March

Num Pang is the New Banh Mi

When you look up “banh mi” in the Midtown East MenuPages listings, you find Num Pang, a tiny Cambodian sandwich shop started by two friends that’s distinctly not-banh-mi yet nonetheless satisfies every spicy sandwich desire I have.

The menu is about fifteen sandwiches long and four side dishes deep (plus a bunch of soups and salads that I barely notice the existence of due to their health benefits), and my boyfriend and I haven’t tried anything yet that hasn’t left us wishing for one more sandwich to eat and one more side to hold onto like a little family pet that we bathe and take on a walk from time to time.

Here’s a sampling of one of our many orders:

boneless spare ribs

vanity shot

five-spice glazed pork belly

grilled corn on the cob

tropical fruit salad

It begins with the bread from NYC’s Parisi Bakery, which has that perfect crusty exterior yet doesn’t flake away all over your best shirt like a traditional banh mi does. Even when the first bite doesn’t yield any meat, the spicy-sweet chili mayo on the bread is a treat on its own. But the meat–whether it’s the spare ribs or the pork belly or the veal meatballs or the sausage–is always seared on the outside and tender on the inside and made all the more spicy and mouth-watering by the complimentary Sriracha sauce. And if you love a banh mi like I do, you’ll appreciate the familiar cucumber, carrots, and cilantro on every sandwich. Every bite is rich but also bright, familiar yet also distinctly Asian-influenced.

The corn was a complete shock to us, because we were expecting the flavors of Mexican corn-on-the-cob: lime, chili, and cotija cheese. The lime is there, and the chili mayo, but what looks like shredded cheese is actually shredded coconut. Shenanigans! I love cheese, but the sweet with the spicy and the tart is enough goodness to make me change factions.

The fruit salad is whole lychees, slices of pineapple, papaya, and mango, and cubes of young coconut in a lemongrass and mint juice. A few bites of this and a few sips of the blood orange lemonade is the perfect sweet-sour way to counteract the spiciness of the sandwiches. My boyfriend thinks the watermelon juice is better, but don’t listen to him.

I originally planned to give Num Pang 4.5 donuts out of 5 but started to reconsider it once I accidentally saw that both locations get 4 stars when you search for them on Google Maps. I thought through the menu and the meals I’ve had, trying to convince myself of a reason to drop its rating. Is too expensive? No, it’s exactly what I’m used to paying for banh mi. Is it not as flavorful as I expect? No, it’s actually more flavorful than most (if not all) comparable sandwiches. Can I think of anything that would make it better? More meat!, but that’s just me being greedy. I asked my boyfriend for his opinion, and he said, “One word: corn.” And then it became clear that I’m right and Google is wrong. 4.5 donuts it is.

Num Pang 140 East 41st Street

New York, NY 10017 (map)

and

21 East 12th Street
New York, NY 10003 (map)

Jungsik is Worth the Trip – Korean – Tribeca

I’ve never seen a negative review of Jungsik. And it’s lucky that people are talking about it, because it’s not the kind of place this American-comfort-food-lovin’ gal would seek out on her own. Luxury Korean food? In Tribeca? It seemed so exciting when I made the reservation, but in the days leading up to the dinner, it started to seem scary and foreign. In the moments before we entered the restaurant, I was almost dreading it.

And then I loved it. And then I couldn’t stop exclaiming over it.

amuse bouches

• squid ink chip with kimchi aioli: the salty familiarity of a light-as-a-feather potato chip with the sourness of squid ink • tofu with soy gelee • shrimp with cucumber cloud

• fried chicken with spicy mayo: pure comfort food; perfectly crisp shell with the juiciest chicken inside

bulgogi sliders

The perfect little bite, with a substantial bun that didn’t buckle under pressure. With the slice of tomato (have I mentioned that I hate tomato? I loved this tomato), it tasted exactly like a sloppy joe. And I mean that as the greatest compliment.

smoked potato soup

These very hefty bowls arrived at our table carrying a folded bit of prosciutto and a couple of brioche croutons, and a server followed with the soup itself. We thought this dish a little “precious” in its presentation, as we’re not sure that pea-sized croutons and a one-inch square of meat needed to be brought separately from the liquid, but we had no complaints about the taste. The soup was smoky and onion-flavored, gel-like in consistency, and accented by the crispy sourness of the croutons.

Schramsberg, Blanc de Blancs, California, 2007

The menu at Jungsik offers three courses or five courses with wine pairings using one-word titles, much like the menu at Eleven Madison Park. Unlike EMP, though, Jungsik offers a little more description to help in the ordering process; someone who might not order a dish based on the word “apple”, for instance, might be convinced by the words “light foie gras mousse” underneath. The back of the menu displays the chef’s suggestions for the perfect tasting menu, and while my boyfriend and I are usually happy to put our palates in the hands of the chef, we wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to try as many dishes as possible and each ordered different things.

apple gelee, foie gras mousse

The thinnest spread of smooth foie gras topped with a layer of apple gelee and studded with apple shavings and cilantro leaves. The sweetness of the apple made the foie subtle and less bitter than usual, and spread over the warm housemade rye bread, it was like butter and honey on toast. I took a cue from the incredible foie gras and salt tasting at Per Se and dipped each spoonful of foie into the chunky salt provided with the table bread and went into a blissful sodium coma.

four seasons: parsley, zucchini, quail egg

The one bite I tried of this seasonal salad left me feeling like it was almost too fresh, the flavors too subtle; I know it’s a sin, but I prefer my salads deep-fried and covered in ranch powder, like the one at Tenpenny. My boyfriend, who actually got to deconstruct the thing, said there were enough powerful flavors–sundried tomato, beet, herbs–to suit him, though. We both liked the hearty zucchini base, the thick herbaceous sauce, and the apple foam.

champs-elysees: foie gras, kimchi

The ingredients in these mod-looking bowls arrived separated with instructions for us to mix them together. This worried my boyfriend, who finds that this preparation leaves dishes tasting one-note, but he was impressed by the strong flavor of ginger, the meatiness the foie added, the sweetness of the port wine reduction, and the risotto quality of the overall mix.

sea urchin, Korean seaweed rice, crispy quinoa

My favourite way to eat uni is to hide it in other foods so I can taste it without looking at it–I can’t get over how gloopy and tongue-like it is with those ridges on top–so the mixing entirely worked in my favor. The regular quinoa with the crispy puffed quinoa added unexpected crunchiness to every bite, and the uni’s organ-y iron flavor managed to be noticeable without overpowering the onion and rice.

arctic char, kimchi sabayon

So beautifully presented, this char was accented with smokiness, sourness from the kimchi, and even a little cheesiness in the sauce. My boyfriend said it was rich enough to stand up to the sauce but delicate enough to feel refined. The grapes and chips provided a juxtaposition of sweet and salty and soft and crunchy.

Tribeca lobster, butter-poached, Korean mustard

This was easily–easily–the best lobster I’ve ever had. Even my boyfriend agreed, and he’s not prone to melodramatic, absolute statements like I am. It was just simply the most buttery sauce covering the most tender lobster mitts and tail with the most perfect accoutrements. The $10 supplement to the tasting was so worth it I felt the urge to get up from my table and dance around the center of the room, making sweeping gestures with my arms, declaring my love for the lobster, and not sitting back down until everyone in the room had thrown their plates on the floor and demanded a helping of it for themselves.

Raspberry and lobster? With pimento chutney? There’s no reason it worked. But it was spicy and sweet, bright and rich, buttery and citrusy. The sauce was so lobster-flavored itself that it tasted as if the lobster shells had been cooked in it. The lobster was the perfect amount of chewy and the perfect amount of tender. I don’t have a bad word to say about this dish–nor even a so-so word–and if what the manager says is true and we can walk in any time and have this at the bar, you can bet I’ll be doing so. Forgive my capitals, but this was SO GOOD.

five senses pork belly: spicy, crunchy, sour, soft, and sweet

My boyfriend and I fought over who was going to order this dish, but I luckily gave it and let him have it. This was the only misstep of the night, and it was partly a misstep just because we expected so much from it. Pork belly is like pizza, right? You can’t do it wrong. But like pizza, some pork bellies are righter than others, and this one just wasn’t flavorful enough. In terms of texture, it was outstanding, with the very crunchiest skin and fat cooked down to near-disintegration. But in terms of taste–well, there almost wasn’t any. We didn’t get the spiciness nor the sweetness; the pickles were more flavorful than the pork. It’s a shame, because the chef who created that lobster dish should do wonders with pork belly, so I’m going to hope that it was just a fluke that night.

classic galbi: beef short-rib, rice cake ball

The galbi, on the other hand, was succulent, rich, homey, and fork-tender. It tasted like it had slow-cooked for 36 hours and then simmered for 24 more. The rice cakes were crispy on the outside but still able to soak up the beef broth. The whole dish reminded me so much of a Sunday dinner made by a mom who really cares, and we both agreed that it was far superior to the pork.

apple rice wine baba, Calvados cream (apple brandy)

Dessert began with a palate cleanser of an Asian pear sorbet topped with a goji berry granita. It was tart and fresh, crunchy on top and smooth on the bottom. The texture of the sorbet was like the actual texture of an Asian pear.

My boyfriend ordered the baba, which was so good on its own it didn’t even need the “side dishes”, but I loved them all. The dish was a study in opposites, with plays on cold and warm, smooth and crunchy, soft and hard. The apple ice was intensely flavorful and complimented the pear flavor so well.

pumpkin panna cotta, cinnamon crumble, amaretto panna cotta

I can’t resist the flavors of fall and was filled with all of the warmth and sentimentality of pumpkin pie with my first bite of this creamy, spicy dessert. The top layer of panna cotta was sweet, the bottom layer almost savory, both leading to a flavorful crumble with a texture that tied together with the crisp squash strip adorning creamy topping.

chocolate pot de creme

Though it wasn’t on the menu, this post-dessert was my favourite of the sweets. The creamy chocolate was complimented by the crunchy, nutty cocoa nib topping and crystal clear sesame tuile, and the whole thing had a slight celery flavor that we loved. Our server told us it was angelica root, which is used as a digestive aid; she said that made it a healthy dessert. Wink, wink.

mignardises

• yuzu macarons: not the least big yuzu-y, these actually tasted like peanut shells (what?) • mango balsamic truffles: mango yes, but balsamic no; still fruity and delicious

• mugwort financier: buttery!

the ceiling at Jungsik

To think that I was worried Jungsik wouldn’t be “comforting” or that it wasn’t “my kind of food”! The amuse bouches alone were enough to convince me that my fears about it being too far removed from the French and New American upscale food I enjoy so much were unfounded, and then every subsequent course only served to prove more and more that there’s a place for Korean cooking in the high-end New York food scene (and that place is in my mouth). The flavor combinations were inventive, the presentation was pitch-perfect, and even the service–which some have said is too stiff–was friendly yet professional, helpful, and never intrusive. Aside from not giving me enough pork in my pork, Jungsik was spot-on and on-par with the best restaurants in NYC, and I expect to continue to see nothing but positive reviews coming out of it.

Jungsik 2 Harrison Street

New York, NY 10013 (map)

Reservations at Brooklyn Fare and How to Get Them

The Chef’s Table at Brooklyn Fare was a hard seat to get well before it was awarded three Michelin stars. I was basically laughed at the one time I called last year and said I wanted a reservation but would only take one on a Saturday, so when my boyfriend said he was ready for me to try–to really, really try–again, I did my homework. And I was successful!

Here’s how you can be, too:

1) Set a calendar reminder for 10:15 a.m. Monday. The reservation line opens at 10:30, and you’ll need those 15 minutes to stretch your dialing finger. Make sure you also go to the bathroom; it could be awhile before you have another chance.

2) At 10:29, dial (718) 243-0050. If you’re like me, you’ll worry that if you call too much before 10:30, they may blacklist you. But if you wait until anytime after, you’ll be out of luck. Remember that they book six weeks out and have a date in mind, but don’t be married to that date.

3) Get a busy signal. Hit the “end” button.

4) Redial.

5) Get a busy signal. Hit the “end” button.

6) Redial.

7) Get a busy signal. Hit the “end” button.

8) Redial.

9) Do this for approximately twenty minutes, switching fingers now and then to avoid carpal tunnel. Wonder how many people are answering the phones there. (What if it’s only one person, who needs a couple of minutes with each caller? Then calling every five seconds is ridiculous. But what if in the ten seconds you’re resting, a new caller was taken and you missed out?)

10) When someone finally picks up, ask for a reservation and get told to wait. (It literally sounded like someone picked up on the grocery store side of the restaurant and put the phone down on a nearby shelf.)

11) When the actual reservationist answers, she’ll tell you that the restaurant’s closed on Saturday for a private event or that Sunday is open to unmarried only-children with two children of their own or something like that.

12) Take that Friday night at 10 p.m. reservation, and be thankful for it.

photo by Evan Sung for The New York Times

As I was dialing and redialing for 21 minutes, all I could think was, “Why should I have to go through this? He’s lucky we’re coming to his restaurant to spend our money! César Ramirez should be calling me!”

But then I remembered that the restaurant fills up every week and he doesn’t care whether I review it or not. In fact, he’s not going to let me take pictures there, and he’s going to yell at me if he even suspects that I’m taking notes.

It doesn’t seem worth it, right? But as my commenter Timmy Lee said on a recent post, “My wife and I had dinner at Chef’s Table on Valentine’s Day. OMG! Do we dare say that the food was better than Per Se?”

We shall see, Timmy. We shall see. Six weeks from now.