Battle of the (Pork) Buns – Momofuku Ssam vs Ippudo

I have to confess that I am not a big ramen fan so I had never thought of stepping foot inside Ippudo until my niece raved about the pork buns. When a friend from Toronto dropped by for an impromptu visit last weekend, I decided to check it out with her. Coincidentally,  my husband and I had just eaten at Momofuku Ssam the weekend before so both are pretty fresh in my mind. In this post, I’m stacking up their pork buns and other dishes side by side just for fun.

First: Service.

Is it my imagination or do I hear grumbling at the grassroots about Momofuku’s service? Complaints of arrogant wait staff seem to pop up more often now on various sites like menupages and zagat’s.

In the times I’ve been to Ssam, I’ve never encountered this “you’re lucky to be eating here” attitude at all. They may not greet “Irasshaimase” at your arrival or be extra-solicitous about your well-being, but it’s far from the fling-the-plate-at-your-table kind of service that you might get in Chinatown. Momofuku’s wait staff are casual and efficient, but Ippudo’s go the extra mile to make you smile. This round goes to Ippudo.

Second: Pork Buns.

Imagine this picture of Momofuku’s pork buns as a Rorschach test: I see a doughy Pillsbury Pacman devouring two thick slices of seared pork belly smeared with a little hoisin sauce. They’re really irresistible, especially with the sheen and glisten hinting at the glorious unctuousness to come.

Locanda Verde – NYC

Locanda Verde, the Tribeca Italian on the ground floor of Robert de Niro’s Greenwich Hotel, continues to get nods from all over. Chef Andrew Carmellini’s fans from A Voce and Cafe Boulud (where he supposedly served up the best fried chicken south of 96th St.) generate enough positive buzz to keep the place constantly humming.

While waiting for my husband, I sit at the oak bar nursing a glass of the  Produttori Langhe Nebbiolo 2007, sniffing and savoring the licorice with each sip. I’m surrounded by mahogany beams and dark wood louvered windows, more masculine and traditional than yin and minimalist. After my husband arrives and we are seated, the waiter explains that the items on the menu are served family style. This suits us fine as we tend to share everything anyway; however, methinks we ordered too much.

Chicken liver crostino with vin santo and sultanas.

Wood fired king prawn with garlic lemon and sweet pepper. My favorite. Not only is the head still on (which begs for sucking the juices out), the body is done just until barely opaque. Quite a feat as most restaurants seem to overcook grilled shrimp to a tough chewy consistency. The confit of thinly sliced lemon is sweet and punchy at the same time.

Cantler’s Riverside Inn – Annapolis, MD

It’s one of those mysteries of nature, like salmon traveling several thousand miles to return home to spawn and die or male praying mantis doing the horizontal with females despite knowing that they’ll end up headless during or after. Self control, self discipline and even self-preservation are no match when something is pre-ordained and programmed into your DNA.

Txikito – NYC

Of the three Spanish/Portugese restaurants that have gained so much buzz recently, I was most excited about Txikito. If only for a chance to relive memories of hopping around tapas bars in San Sebastian, Spain. I wondered if I would see a burnished oak counter displaying open-faced sandwiches topped with bits of food held together by mayonnaise or if they would be marking up my bill by counting the toothpicks on my plate or if used napkins would be strewn all over the floor.

No. None of that. Instead, I see a rectangular space slightly bigger than a one-car garage with rough-hewn unvarnished wooden planks covering the walls and ceilings. There is a bar, but it’s sleek and modern, laden with (wine) glasses rather than goodies.

To kick off our meal, we each have a glass of txakolin (Ametzoi Getariako Txakolina 2008 and Uriondo Bizkaiako Txakolina 2008), a dry sparkling wine produced in the Basque region. Shortly after, the progression of plates come quickly.

Aldea – NYC

The Iberian Peninsula continues to colonize the NYC dining scene. Recently, I’ve noticed a spate of Spanish/Portuguese restaurants popping up on Eater and other food columns. The three currently on my radar are Aldea, Txikito and La Fonda del Sol. Add these to Boqueria, Casa Mono, Mercat and a host of others that have cropped up in the recent years. What a difference from the 90’s.  As far as I recall, back then, if I was in the mood for Spanish, my choices were limited to either Solera or Marichu.

Since getting back from Piedmont, we’ve laid low on dining out to give our wallets and waistlines a rest, but I think we’re safely back in the swing of things. So, on the evening before a long holiday weekend and despite so much rain pelting pavement, we march over to Aldea in the Flatiron district.

The place is comfortably filled but not packed. We are seated at the ‘chef’s table’ (euphemism for a counter with six bar stools next to the open kitchen). From our perch, we can watch the comings and goings of the six chefs working in random harmony.

We order everything to share and our selections weigh more heavily towards the petiscos (small bites) and the appetizers rather than the entrees.

Happy Fourth!

This year, the annual Macy’s Fourth of July fireworks was held on the Hudson River to commemorate the 400th anniversary of its discovery by Henry Hudson. As it happens, 2009 also marks my 20th year of living in the US.

We celebrated the holiday by having friends over for dinner. After this, we parked ourselves on the promenade just steps away from the house so we could watch the spectacular fireworks display.

All’ Enoteca – Piedmont, Italy

April 30, 2009

After peeking for only a few hours the day before, the sun decides to make a full appearance on our last full day in Piedmont. It’s much too glorious a day to stay inside musty historic buildings, so despite the fact that we have not seen the Shroud of Turin nor the Egyptian Museum, we opt for the Messer Tulipano Festival at the Castello di Pralormo.

Sadly, it’s the tail end of the season (and the last day of the festival), so most of the tulip heads are now bare or sport dry withering petals. Aluminum buckets with freshly cut flowers are inconspicuously placed amidst the remaining leaves in an attempt to augment the tulip beds. You may not notice if you don’t look closely.

We while away the next hour and a half touring the castle grounds which also feature a culinary fair and an outdoor exhibit called Pioggia di Tazze (Rain of Teacups) comprised of teacups hanging from trees and strewn on the grass.

Of course, our real objective today is lunch at All’ Enoteca, only twelve miles away in Canale. At some point during the drive over, it’s as if we’ve entered the twilight zone. A tunnel appears out of nowhere and sucks us into darkness for a moment.  When we get out on the other side, we’re off the GPS grid (again!) and feel like we’ve just stepped into a BMW commercial.  A gentle curving road winds through one of the prettiest scenery we’ve seen so far on this trip, patchwork quilts of vineyards on the hillside slopes.

Boccondivino – Piedmont, Italy

April 29, 2009

Lack of sleep can really hamper one’s presence of mind. It was almost 2am when we got back to the hotel following our dinner at Combal Zero. Today, we’re groggy and listless as we head towards the town of Bra, birthplace of the Slow Food movement, and Osteria Boccondivino, its flagship restaurant. We make many mistakes, repeatedly misspelling our destination on the GPS and missing multiple turns that prompt the device to constantly recalculate our route. The scenery isn’t particularly inspiring. We mostly see factories and warehouses along the way. When we get to Bra, it’s a larger town than I expected, and we actually encounter traffic as we search for street parking.

Combal Zero – Piedmont, Italy

April 28, 2009

It’s almost 9:30pm and we’re truly famished. Unfortunately, dinner will have to wait because we’re a little lost. The road that our GPS prescribed is closed due to landslides, but we don’t panic. We’re experts at being lost. We’ve been off the grid countless times before: driving on some eerie dirt road bisecting a forest, traversing farmlands in total blackout, going around in circles up a mountain a few hours before midnight. If such is required for the promise of a memorable meal, then so be it.

After a few calls to the restaurant, we follow the detour signs up the hill to the Castello di Rivoli, which houses the Museo di Arte Contemporanea in front and Piedmont’s only Michelin two star, Combal Zero, at the back. When we step inside, Simona, our hostess, greets us with relief. One more phone call and she would have come down the hill to pick us up. Thankfully, it didn’t come to that.

Venaria Reale/Mole Antonelliana – Piedmont, Italy

April 28, 2009

Tired feet and hunger pangs. That’s what we get for trying to squeeze every last cent from our Piedmont/Torino card. This two-day pass gives us free access to almost all museums in Piedmont, so we devote this day to pure unadulterated sight-seeing.