hungry sofia » Queens

Catching Up in May

hungrysofia — Tue, 01 Jun 2010 02:51:47 +0000

I collect links and articles for my monthly catching up posts every day so it’s not until I sit down to go through them all that a theme emerges. The New York Times City Room covered the struggles of two neighborhood restaurants. Due in part to the efforts of community leaders and a last minute fundraiser, Coqui Mexicano was able to temporarily stave off eviction from their South Bronx location but Manhattanville’s La Floridita, one of the last Cuban restaurants left in the area, was forced to close for repairs and faces an uncertain future. The Village Voice interview with Fernando Ruiz of the Tortilleria Nixtamal, which is doing well, was about mistakes, misconceptions, and underappreciated ingredients — a more interesting read but still. Even news that Rick Bayless would be preparing the state dinner President Felipe Calderón of Mexico stirred up some controversy both before and after. On a brighter note, Carolina González wrote for the Daily News about the prominence of women chefs and restaurateurs like Zarela Martínez and Sue Torres in high-end Mexican cuisine. I thought May would farmer’s markets and spring blossoms but there were some shadows too.

The Other Chinatown

hungrysofia — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 05:23:51 +0000

After years of winding my way through the streets of lower Manhattan, I think I’ve finally figured out Chinatown. A little overwhelming and often confusing, you always know you’re in New York. A few blocks in any direction and you’re in Little Italy, Tribeca or the Lower East Side. I’d always been curious about the “other” Chinatown – the one they keep in Flushing, where Jennifer 8 Lee said the “real” Chinese restaurants were. I had no good reason for not making it out there until now so when my teacher, Steven Shaw planned an excursion for his current food blogging class, I had to sign up. After all, he’d written the book. This weekend we met up at the French Culinary Institute on a gray day to make our way through cast iron Soho to Spring street where a 6 would get us to the 7 to Flushing. When we came up from the station, it was clear we were not in Manhattan anymore.

Coming out on Roosevelt Ave. and Main St., my head swimming from the smell of roasted duck wafting from the first stand we passed, I did my best to keep track of where we were going so that I could find them again but it was hopeless. After a few blocks, I lost what little sense of direction I had. Here are a few images from the day:

Our first stop was across Roosevelt Ave. on the corner of Kissena Blvd. for roasted meats on skewers. The chicken and lamb skewers were spicy and succulent (hate that word but they were) and the cart sent out wafts of roast-smoke for a heightened sensory experience. Fortified, we kept moving.

Our next stop at Zhujiguotie, a cramped beehive of a shop with a window looking out onto the street, was my favorite. Packed at 2:00 in the afternoon, Steven said it might be just as full at 2:00 in the morning (see comments). Located just off Main St. and 41st. Ave., Annette pointed out the giant bowl of rice on the corner so that might help me find it next time. I was able to get a picture of the dumplings, sadly the pork buns didn’t last nearly long enough to photograph.

Working our way down, we stopped in the Golden Mall. A warren of food stalls and small shops, it was like entering the hull of a ship. Looking at this one galley kitchen, you would swear the entire building was rocking side to side.

Our longest layover was at Flushing Mall. Before we settled into their food court, we watched them make hand pulled noodles. I tried to capture the process but it was a blur. First their was a mound of dough then in a few swings it was noodles, and then there was all this – soup, more lamb and chicken, dam-dam noodles with dried fermented beef, pigs ears with chili oil, cold chicken feet, more dumplings, and a special mango sundae over shaved ice.

Working our way out in a happy food daze, we’d passed harp school, photography studio and bridal store when we saw him. We weren’t sure why he was posted just inside the entrance or why he was so distorted but I could relate. We’d gone through the looking glass but I was pretty sure that every thing I ate was only going to make me bigger.

That was our trip. I tried to cover most of it but of course there was more – bubble tea, cream filled cakes, giant banquet rooms, roasted ducks, markets, bakeries – and a lot more smoke. Steven warned us that every trip out there is a new experience with different vendors and more food stalls. Like any neighborhood with a thriving immigrant community, they’re seemingly settled but still unpacking so there will always be more to see. Still, it was a great first visit.

New Arrival

hungrysofia — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 03:43:02 +0000

A few weeks ago, I went on a search for fresh masa through the Mexican owned grocery stores in Sunset Park. I was surprised that despite the growing Mexican population in New York, it wasn’t sold anywhere. Settling instead for masa de harina, the dried corn flour that can be reconstituted to make fresh tortillas at home, I actually thought of taking a closer look at corn grinders instead. If I couldn’t find fresh masa, how hard could it be to have my own corn nixtamalization set up at home? Was it a slippery slope? If I ground my own corn would end up churning my own butter? When I read this article in today’s New York Times about Tortillería Nixtamal which now offers fresh masa, I knew I had been rescued from a bad and expensive idea (for now).

Lost in Translation

hungrysofia — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 01:56:24 +0000

Finding Latin American staples in New York is harder than you’d think. A little spoiled, I expect everything to eventually make it’s way here though the trick is finding where its landed. Divided by a common language, a dominican grocer will give you a noncommittal shrug when asked whether the mountain of batatas he’s standing in front is not actually the cuban boniatos that you’re looking for. Although I’m fluent in Spanish, I have a second-generation-american’s insecurity when faced with a native speaker and assume the miscommunication is on my end. That’s how I ended up lost in Jackson Heights buying a colombian arepa griddle which is actually a mexican comal for making tortillas, or maybe it’s both?