China, Part III: Double dipping.

To wrap this China series, we end with an encore story. Yes, we stuffed ourselves full of the greatest hits we had been dreaming of for months leading up to the trip (see the grey squares on the NINGBO card for a small sampling). Yes, we had our adventurous share of unfamiliar fare (I forgot to mention the waitress who took one look at Nick and asked in the local dialect, "Should we make him a steak?" which my parents quickly declined). But of all the amazing food we tried, we only repeated one restaurant the entire trip:

Officially "Hong Yuen Nan Men Hot Pot" (but better known by its short name, "Nan Men," or "South Gate" based on its location at the South Gate of Tian Tan in Beijing), this local gem is famous for its Mongolian lamb hot pot -- my parents had found it nearly ten years ago. Our first dinner in Beijing (not counting the late-night room service when we arrived the night before), we hopped in a taxi and Dad tentatively asked the driver, "Nan Men?" who replied with a big smile, thumbs-up and Mandarin even I could understand: "Nan Men is the best lamb hot pot around."

We arrived maybe an hour after opening (like amateurs) and had to wait in a bullpen of lined-up rows of chairs for what felt like eternity (but was probably more like 45 minutes). We were finally rewarded for our patience with a cozy, screened-off booth. Each table has its own gas hookup, and on top of the burner sits a copper pot with a central chimney (kind of like a bundt pan with a tall center, around which the ring-lid slides up and down). My parents said this is a remnant of back in the day when hot pot was simmered over coals which filled the chimney for maximum heated surface area:

The menus were somewhat like giant, reusable sushi menu cards: they were laminated, and you select your components with a grease pencil which gets wiped away for the next guest. The waitress came over and lit the burner with a deft flick of a match, and we placed our order.

Meanwhile, we enjoyed the table snacks:

But we quickly discovered that the only snack that really mattered were these perfectly roasted peanuts:

We had ordered enough food for about twelve people (there were four of us), starting with two types of lamb (one cut was fresh, another frozen) and beef; building on a giant platter of assorted mushrooms; tofu; followed by vegetables and noodles (both bean threads and wheat noodles).

Once the pot was hot, it was off to the races! Just dip a few seconds in the boiling brew...

...dab the prize in your personal bowl of tahini (swirled with a dot of what I think was cilantro paste and another of a mild chili paste)...then pop into your mouth and enjoy nirvana.

It was so cozy in our little booth, building flavors and memories in the copper pot. We sloshed happily home and were fueled to take on the rest of our final leg of the trip. Though we enjoyed amazing and special meals the nights after (the Imperial chef's tasting, ridiculous Peking duck), we had one "free space" the final night and unanimously opted to come back for a second visit.

THIS time we wasted no time -- nor stomach room -- and optimized based on our first experience:

• Arrive RIGHT at opening (we timed our exit from Tian Tan perfectly) -- we were the last group to be seated before guests were corralled into the bullpen, mooing unhappily
• Ignore other snacks and order more roasted peanuts
• Order fresh lamb only -- forget the beef and frozen lamb
• Order half the mushrooms
• Ask for a bit of salt for the end broth: at home, we do hot pot with broth, but there they used water with herbs and spices. This is more than sufficient for imparting good flavor to the dippables (especially with the tahini condiments), but just a touch of salt brought out all the amazing brewed flavor, and we drank every drop.

It was the perfect end to an amazing trip.

The South Gate of Tian Tan, or Nan Men:

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When we were first planning our trip to Asia, my parents asked where we wanted to go -- at first we were interested in Japan, Singapore, and other places outside China in addition to the Motherland. Ultimately we focused on China, knowing that we could go other places on our own someday, but couldn't possibly experience the ancestral villages and less English-speaking parts of the country without my parents. We are so glad we made the choices we did -- between thousands of photos and over 40 pages of journal scribbles, we'll be savoring this one for a while.

Tom yum(my) in my tummy.

 

Hard to believe the summer is almost over: farm share veggies start transitioning, the morning commute is suddenly dense with school traffic, and all the Oktoberfest beers appear on shelves. That and our two months of nonstop travel and hosting come to a close. We've been cooking up a storm as usual (backlog of summer posts to come), but last weekend, we did something we rarely do: ordered food in. I had to text my sister to ask for a good Thai takeout place in our area, and then I was unsure of how to handle the payment ("Do you have cash? Do you tip the driver??"). But after weeks of nonexistent Friday evenings to relax, we figured we had earned the right to lay low.

The Similans: authentic Thai with a delivery radius that includes our address. We ordered

• Scallion pancakes: order again for sure (crispy and fulfilling)
• Spicy ravioli: will try fried next time (the wrapper was a little thick for my taste)
• Tom Yum noodle soup (which I spotted on the lunch menu and they were willing to do for dinner - very spicy, chock full of seafood)
• Country style Pad Thai: I would tell you about it firsthand, but Nick devoured it all (always a good sign, I suppose)...he said it was delicious

We opened a bottle of wine and spent the evening cuddled up with Ryan, Marissa, Summer and Seth. It was perfect.

Life through rosé-colored glasses.

I really can't claim to have accomplished much in the last month, but I also can't say I really mind. In my time outside learning the new job, I've taken advantage of my transient status to enjoy a little R&R, reconnecting with old friends, spending time with family, and celebrating my quarter century. My mom came to visit  (of course, she baked a cake), and we got to celebrate my birthday on the actual day for the first time in years, compliments of my excellent new employer's take-your-birthday-off policy. The day of my birthday, we cooked pork chops with peaches...my sister's Scotch of choice is Laphroaig, and as we always try to keep things simple and use what ingredients are on hand (wink), our flambéed peaches had an intense smoky flavor.

We celebrated with a little bubbly -- a lovely and crisp rosé -- to accompany our cake.

Friday night, we went to No. 9 Park, a French and Italian restaurant downtown.

Corn velouté poured over little cubes of foie gras and summer truffles

Prune-stuffed gnocchi (wonderful little pillows)

Roasted hake over corn, butter-poached lobster, and fresh (!) chanterelles

My surprise birthday dessert (chocolate decadence with marshmallow cream and cinnamon ice cream)

Trio of assorted ice creams

Our waitress was friendly and gave great suggestions, and the food -- oh, the food! -- so flavorful and perfectly cooked (I think I have a favorite new fish).

Over the weekend Nick, Mom and I walked through the Public Garden...

...and then drove up the North Shore to Crane Beach and Russell Orchards, where we picked our own apples and picnicked. The day was gorgeous, and we fortunately had more luck than last year's apple-picking expedition.

It was a bit of a team effort: at first, for any I couldn't reach, I would point and Nick would pick.

After a while, we decided we needed a little more height.

Heavier by 15 lb of Gala, Honeycrisp, Gingergold, McIntosh apples (as well as a couple bottles of cider and half a dozen cider donuts), we returned home utterly successful.

I would say it was a pretty spectacular birthday. Faithful blog followers, stay tuned for when I get settled and can inaugurate my new kitchen. For now, I'm enjoying getting to know my new/old town.

New life, in pictures.

My first week here in Boston has been -- like the rest of the summer -- quite a whirlwind. Between starting a new job and installing myself temporarily in my sister's apartment (until mine opens up in October), I've seen old friends and made new ones. A quick recap:


Restaurant Week (surprise!), pt. I at Upstairs on the Square: reunited with a good friend/former roommate and her sister, at the first "fancy" restaurant I ate at in Boston (age 16, visiting sisters in college) with my good friend/former roommate (corn veloute with a seared Diver scallop, soupe au pistou with black bass and Sweet 100 tomatoes, dark chocolate mousse with Port-poached cherries).

Restaurant Week, pt. II at T.W. Food: a new spot for Nick and me, with an adventurous take on classic dishes (charcuterie, duck heart ragu over pasta with a miso-cured duck egg, fruit ile flottante).

First Family Dinner: chicken with lemon-arugula spaghetti

Barbecue and sailing on the Charles: grilled peaches, burgers, hot dogs, s'mores.

Drinks at the Liberty Hotel: perfect evening weather for a Hendrick's G&T.

Birthday lunch and shopping with another good friend/former roommate: my first trip back to the 'burbs to the ENORMOUS Natick mall and the delicious Nordstrom restaurant.

BASTA. PASTA. My old college favorite and sensational Italian spot. I finished my mountain of legendary bolognese, of course.

Tonight's Family Dinner: seared bay scallops in a lemon-herb cream sauce over fresh fettuccine, with local ratatouille (Cait's CSA box had some gorgeous corn, so we added that. Cait's CSA box also had fresh mint, so we made mojitos, of course.)

More posts as the dust settles!

Continental drift.

Dearest readers, it has been an embarrassingly long time since I posted. So long, in fact, that my "remember me" sign-in has expired and the Blogger form has even changed setup. Other changes are coming as well...in the last two weeks, I have taken several trips, interviewed with nearly two dozen people, went to Lollapalooza (dedicated post to come!), accepted a job offer, scheduled a mover, and bought -- for only the second time in my life -- a one-way ticket. I'm moving up the coastline for a great new job opportunity, and to finally be in the same city as my favorite chef. I will also be rejoining one sister and a handful of dear friends from college, so things are looking good.

It has been an emotional whirlwind, saying goodbye to colleagues and a wonderful group of friends I have made here. There is so much positive to come, but I can't help but feel sad about everything I'm leaving behind. I will save my sappy goodbyes for those people in-person, but thank you all for making DC my first true home away from home.

Of course, when everything around you is changing, you cling to the things that taste are familiar. I have reverted almost entirely to comfort foods, allowing myself an unbridled period of carbs -- primarily in the form of noodle soups, milkshakes, and fries -- as I push through finishing work, finding an apartment, and moving. This week I ate at two of my favorite restaurants, Acqua al 2 and Toki Underground, cramming in as many local food trucks and old stand-bys as I can.

One of those stand-bys is a lurid orange-and-blue-painted barcade near work, The Continental. Dubbed "the Conti" by anyone who works at my company, this combination restaurant-bar-shuffleboard-pool-skiball-Big Buck Hunter joint is a popular post-work spot, with decent rail gin and ample seating. It was actually the first bar I went to when I moved here, sitting awkwardly with my new acquaintances who had also just started. One of those acquaintances turned into a very good friend who introduced me to a great crowd.

Serendipitously, Martha (who has since left for graduate school) planned a visit which happened to coincide with my last weekend in town. The two of us used go to the Conti after a particularly long day and drink Shock Top with a basket of fries. When she said she was coming back for the weekend, she said, "I only have one request," and of course I knew what it was. It was an appropriate -- and wonderfully familiar -- way to wrap up this chapter for now.

Not your average pasta salad.

I recently celebrated a friend's birthday dinner at Floriana in Dupont Circle. As you may remember, our little group rarely dines Italian -- she picked the restaurant for its rustic-yet-elegant vibe, and we couldn't have asked for better atmosphere on the patio that evening: it was one of those perfect late spring D.C. nights where the sun was just setting so the air was still warm, but the summer humidity was still at bay.

As much as I enjoyed the dinner special which half the table ordered (fontina-stuffed meatballs in a fresh pomodoro sauce over pasta), our complimentary birthday desserts, and the fizzy prosecco cocktails, my favorite dish was a truly simple salad: arugula tossed with lemon and olive oil, with shaved Parmesan. The spicy bite of arugula and creamy cheese (with my favorite little salt crystals) balanced perfectly with the bright lemon. I love arugula as a green because it has body and flavor on its own. It stands up in salads but also wilts beautifully over pasta or pizza.

A few weeks later, D.C. has hit full-blown summer heat and humidity. Feeling too hot and lazy to fire up the stove for heavy-duty cooking, I decided to make a pasta dinner inspired by my refreshing salad from Floriana. Fortunately, Smitten Kitchen had a great recipe seemingly tailor-made for the occasion. The cream, cheese, and olive oil did their smoothing act on the spiky arugula and citrus flavors, just as I had remembered.

*
Spaghetti al Limone
(Adapted from Smitten Kitchen)
Serves 2

1/3 lb spaghetti
Salt
2 lemons (depending on the size of your lemons - add to taste, 1 T at a time)
2 T extra virgin olive oil (I added a dash of lemon-infused olive oil for a boost)
2-3 T heavy cream
1 oz finely grated Parmesan cheese (about 1/2 c), plus additional for serving
Ground black pepper
Generous handful arugula
Cook pasta in well-salted water until al dente. While pasta is cooking, zest and juice both lemons — you’ll have about 2 T of zest and anywhere from 1/3 to 1/2 c lemon juice.

Drain pasta, reserving 1/2 c of the cooking water. Dry out your pot, then boil the olive oil, cream, zest and 1/4 c of the reserved pasta water together for two minutes over high heat. Return pasta to pot and stir until coated. Add the cheese and lemon juice and toss well. Add more pasta water, a drizzle at a time, if you’d like your dish a little looser. Stir in arugula and season generously with salt and pepper.

Serve immediately -- this isn't one for leftovers.

Mom's the word.

I went to New York for another whirlwind weekend with my family -- this time celebrating Mother's Day. We had a lovely weekend walking in the gorgeous weather, complete with shopping and good food as usual. We browsed a fabulous rare bookstore, where we found signed first editions of some of our childhood favorites including The House at Pooh Corner, going for $2800. Some books were easily in the tens of thousands, and the most expensive crested into six figures. Needless to say, we didn't buy anything, but we loved finding our old favorites on the shelves. (It's actually been a bit of a tradition of my sisters over the last few years, finding and buying our favorite out-of-print children's books and giving them to Mom for various holidays.)

This weekend we were celebrating not only Mother's Day but also Mom's graduation from an MBA program (her second Master's) which she just finished last week. She's been taking classes online and on the ground for the last few years, and we couldn't be prouder or more excited for her. It seems a little odd, being "proud" of your parents, but I can't think of any other word for it. In my years growing up, it's an understatement to say she was always there: shuttling me from school to various activities, lessons, practices, and rehearsals; quizzing me on spelling words, vocabulary, the periodic table; helping me glue captions on posters in the wee small hours of the morning, bringing me sliced fruit and snacks to keep me going. I just wish I could have been there to do the same as she managed getting her MBA while still running her normal life simultaneously.

An appropriately sumptuous dinner at Daniel marked both the graduation and Mother's Day occasions. Our waiter asked if there was a special occasion, and when we told him, he was so enthusiastic that he brought us not one but TWO surprise dessert plates in addition to what we ordered. Another excellent surprise, Chef Daniel himself actually walked around the dining room, but he had to leave ("for a dinner reservation") before he got to our table (I was a little star-struck anyway).

The tasting menu offered two options for every course, so we basically had the good fortune of a double tasting menu by making sure someone ordered each option for each course. Since the menu ended up being so enormous, here is just a sampling of my favorites from the evening:

Amuse bouche trio featuring spring peas: my favorite "bite" of the three was shrimp with pea puree and a pickled hon-shimeji mushroom

 
First course: Mosaic of poularde, foie gras, and daikon radish set in black trumpet gelee with hazelnuts

Second course: Maine peekytoe crab salad with hibiscus gelee, compressed cucumber, mint oil, and anise hyssop salad

Third course: Mousseron and Swiss chard ravioli with fiddlehead ferns

 
Fourth course: there was a salmon option, but I substituted a red wine reduction-marinated sea bass with bechamel braised leek and a crispy potato crouton (for the record, the cedar-wrapped salmon with bourbon sauce was so delicious and tender that I missed photographing that one as well)

Fifth course: Duo of beef: an insanely flavorful braised short rib with carrot puree, seared Wagyu tenderloin with crispy rosemary polenta and a spring garlic confit

 
Dessert: Molten Guanaja chocolate cake with milk sorbet

Passion fruit-vanilla vacherin with mango-passion fruit chutney, mascarpone chantilly, and crispy meringue wafers

A delightful (and delectable) way to celebrate Mom, all around.

Ippudo, you-ppudo, we all scream for Ippudo.

A couple weekends ago Nick and I were in New York with my parents, celebrating our engagement. On the last day, we braved the rain and crowds to try to squeeze in at Ippudo, anecdotally acclaimed to be one of the best ramen restaurants in Manhattan. Situated in the East Village, Ippudo is always crowded, but the food is phenomenal. I had been once before with a friend, who warned me of the long wait times because of its popularity and limited seating area. On that particular rainy Sunday, the front entrance was packed with people and umbrellas, held captive by the tantalizing smells from the kitchen. For two, our wait was just over an hour (not bad!), and were seated -- ravenous -- at about 2:30pm.

Everything in Ippudo is a blur: the servers whiz by with steaming bowls of noodles and rich broth, and everyone is always shouting to greet customers and call in orders, adding to the buzzing atmosphere.

We started with flash-fried shishito peppers with yuzu salt:

(The citrus salt cut the hot oil and gave that zing that makes the corners of your mouth turn up.)

I ordered the Akamaru Modern with a seasoned, soft-boiled egg -- an umami explosion with lots of garlic and sesame:

Nick ordered the Miso Ramen with a GIGANTIC ball of ginger on top and a poached egg:

The anticipation and long wait had made me extra-hungry...I ordered extra noodles halfway through. Extra noodles, or "Kae-dama," is a common offering in ramen restaurants, but this was the first place I had ever seen a policy:

"When you have almost finished your first serving of noodles, order by saying 'Kae-dama, please.' In a few minutes the server will bring you another 'ball of noodles,' and put it in the soup. At that time, you must have enough amount of the soup in the bowl to accommodate the new noodles, that is, you shouldn't drink much of the soup if you are going to order the Kae-dama."


Well, I got my Kae-dama, and I still managed to finish:

It's easy to see why Ippudo is so wildly popular.

East meets Central.

Introducing Moksa, a new(ish) pan-Asian, pan-entertainment establishment in Central Square. The place is, literally, a long, narrow set of rooms beginning with a bar in the front, a middle restaurant space, and a dance club in the back. Moksa serves up unique cocktails (each created for an animal in the zodiac) and artistic small plates sampling Indian, Malaysian, Szechuan, Japanese, Vietnamese, and Korean cuisine.

Before we get to the food, it's important to note that they got the zodiac-cocktails just right: Nick's "Eye of the Tiger" was Scotch-based, and my delicious "Shanti Shanti" included sparkling wine, Campari, and grapefruit sugar.


Thai green mango and papaya salad with tangy lime and crunchy peanuts (ribbons of color and flavor):

Fried chicken and mushroom wontons (a crowd-pleaser):

Miso-braised shortrib roti with ginger scallion sauce (so much umami, you don't even know):

Hand cut ramen noodles with pork belly and a five-minute egg (thick, chewy noodles, just as we like them; and a perfect egg).

Still curious, we added on a dan dan mein with spicy pork-mushroom ragu (a bit more hot than spicy)...and evidently I was so busy eating that I didn't capture it on my camera.

Conveniently located in Central Square, we'll definitely be back.