I Want You Inside Me - Momofuku's Pork Buns Are The Best Thing You Ever (kinda) Made At Home
Last week I wrote about Fiore's Roast Beef Special... A sandwich that everyone should write down. And, apparently, some people did more than write it down because I had dozens of readers reach out to say they either revisited the place because of my reminder or tried the place for the first time solely on my recommendation.
One guy had commented on how the line was very long this weekend, which (he thought) MUST have been a direct result of my incredibly well-written review. I knew, of course, that the line is ALWAYS long at Fiore's on Thursday and Saturday and that my stupid fucking blog did not make a ripple, so I quickly told that reader that he was 100% correct and it WAS because of me that a small biz like Fiore's will now NOT have to shutter its doors amidst this pandemic...
This week I am staying closer to home.
I have mentioned too many times over the past 3 weeks that I am in quarantine after testing positive for COVID-19.
Catching a virus that robs you of your sense of taste and smell (among other things) is certainly not ideal when you are starting a weekly food blog, but I was lucky that both my Fiore's trip AND my trip to Keen's for their mutton chop with Super Bowl winners Willie Colon and James Harrison happened before I caught this fucking thing.
Now I am at the tail end of the quarantine, my senses have all but returned, and most importantly, I am breathing freely AND I haven't shit my pants in just over a week, so I need to get back out there and highlight some delicious food.
But what about the tens of thousands of Americans who can't leave the house?
And what about the readers who will never make it to some of the places I love?
Well... This edition of I Want You Inside Of Me is for you.
For those who are unfamiliar with the name, Momofuku was founded by chef David Chang in 2004 with the opening of Momofuku Noodle Bar in New York City.
Credited with “the rise of contemporary Asian-American cuisine” by the New York Times and named the “most important restaurant in America” by Bon Appétit magazine, Momofuku has since opened a number of different-themed restaurants in the US, Australia, and Canada.
And this is straight from the brochure- "The restaurants have gained worldwide recognition for their innovative take on cuisine while supporting sustainable and responsible farmers and food purveyors."
I personally don't give a shit about supporting sustainable and responsible farmers and food purveyors… Sustainability and responsibility are not on my radar when establishing desirability… I would eat a freshly clubbed endangered baby seal tartare if we're being honest... But apparently, those other criteria are important to Chang, so I left them in.
If you go down the list of Chang's restaurants, there are only a couple that I have been to, and my favorite of the bunch is actually a location that no longer exists… Ma Peche closed its doors in 2018, and part of the blame was the reduced foot traffic in that area around Midtown because of the additional security and prolonged street closures around Trump Tower.
I am not sure if Trump needs any more blame piled on his plate this week, so I will mourn the loss of this restaurant and its wonderful habanero fried chicken in a non-political manner.
But the place I want to talk about today is their original NYC restaurant, Momofuku Noodle Bar in the East Village.
The Noodle Bar is called that because it serves ramen along with a roster of dishes that changes with the seasons. Barring any pandemic restrictions, the place only takes reservations for the larger format fried chicken and the caviar and fried chicken meals, and those reservations can be made only online. Otherwise, Noodle Bar is a walk-in only restaurant… Again, barring any pandemic restrictions, so if you're not calling restaurants before making a visit in this day and age, then you are a fucking idiot.
People who are ramen-snobs will probably say that Momofuku's noodles are very good, but not the greatest bowl in New York. Ramen people are arguably worse than pizza people, but I won't shame those who go to great lengths to find that perfect noodle. My ramen palate, however, is not that defined, and I find the bowls at the Noodle Bar to be extraordinary.
But ramen is not what I am going to talk about here…What I LOVE to order at any Momofuku location is their pork buns, and their pork buns originated at the original Noodle Bar as an appetizer.
What makes a great appetizer?
For me, it's a smaller dish that makes you regret ordering a larger meal.
I don't know about you (mainly because I have no clue who-the-fuck you are), but 9 times out of 10, I have a better dining experience in a tapas-style joint where 15 dishes come to the table than in a more traditional place where I need to unbutton my pants in order to get through the one Veal Chop Valdostana.
And that's what this place offers… You can normally choose between 4 different types of buns and then have another 7 or 8 "Small Plate" options plus their fried chicken. I would highly recommend the Noodle Bar for a person who doesn't even like ramen because you can easily have 10 servings hit your table and then walk away more-than-satisfied without ever seeing a noodle at the Noodle Bar.
--- SIDE NOTE: I realize that as I am typing this, I feel like a bit of a douchebag compared to last week.
Fiore's is an old-school Italian sandwich spot, and the line to get in is littered with hungover kids from Hoboken and regular-guys on their lunch break… Places like Momofuku are filled with sober kids from the Lower East Side and guys with ironic facial hair and knit hats but it is still every bit as outstanding.
I don't claim to be a kid, a regular guy, or someone who deserves facial hair, but I'd like to think I know what's delicious, and the pork buns at Momofuku are worth putting up with dozens of denim shirts filled with hundreds of forearm tattoos. ---
But I can't get there.
I have COVID.
Or I live far away.
Or I am just lazy.
So, what can I do?
I have always been leery about having food delivered… And I mean that across-the-board.
We live in an age where the luxury of delivery services makes people who bike 60 miles on something called a Peloton refuse to walk 2 blocks for a cup of coffee.
And people are more than willing to pay the premium in price and suffer the disadvantage of cold food just sitting on the cloth seat of some stranger's car all for the luxury of dialing up a chicken sandwich that could be eaten piping-hot-out-of-the-fryer just a short three-mile drive away.
To each their own, I guess (but know the delivery guy has had his questionable fingers down his own pants in the driver seat AND THEN in your bag of fries next to him in the passenger seat).
Then there are the longer delivery situations… You are craving a deep dish from Chicago, so you order one from Chicago. It also costs you a premium to get it to your door, but you are forced to weather the loss-of-quality that inevitably comes from re-heating a flash-frozen meal because it fills a need without you having to buy a plane ticket.
Well, here's how I try to make that long delivery situation more palatable… We now have the ability to not only order say a pre-made cheesesteak from your favorite place in Philly, but to instead order the shaved ribeye, caramelized onions, Whiz, and frozen rolls from that same place and then go through the small hassle to put them together at home.
And I will use that same stat as above- 9 times out of 10 that cheesesteak you cooked at home with the ingredients imported from John's will be exponentially better than the one made fresh at John's that was immediately wrapped-up tight in foil and shipped off to you NEXT DAY AIR packed in dry ice.
So that's EXACTLY what I did with Momofuku's pork buns.
I ordered them deconstructed in some make-at-home kit with ingredients sent directly from the restaurant.
The package came within a couple of days, and when I opened it up, the contents looked like this…
Nothing overly palatable but also nothing overly difficult to assemble.
A container of hoisin… Which is a sweet barbecue sauce.
A container of their pickled cucumbers… Which (thankfully) did NOT have a strong "pickly" taste to them at all.
Two dozen raw baos… Which are just steamed buns.
A container filled with fully-cooked thick slices of pork belly.
To be honest, the gray pallor that existed over the pork was a tad disconcerting, but I was hoping a cast iron pan would remedy that…
And it did.
And I am going to stop and tell you right now… I don't know if my kids have showered in the last week, but I know that my cast iron pan is expertly seasoned and 'down-to-fuck" right now.
There was ZERO reason for me to use a cast iron to brown up this pre-cooked pork belly, but I am convinced that I wouldn't have gotten that beautiful caramelization on the surface of the pork if I simply went with the non-stick.
The slices they gave me were the perfect balance of meat-to-fat also… You can get a slice of pork belly that is all meat and it gets dry without all the oil from the fat… Or you get a slice that is mostly fat and it gets… Well… TOO FATTY (which was my DJ name in high school).
"GO FATTY!… GO FATTY!… GO!… GO!… GO FATTY!"
And once the pork was cooked, the raw baos just needed to be sprinkled with a tiny bit of water and steamed in the microwave on a tightly wrapped plate.
Then it was just assembling the sandwich…
The only thing that wasn't included was the scallions and the only thing I don't like on my bao is scallions, so I replaced that with a little cilantro.
Slathered the inside of the hot bao with hoisin, tucked in the generous slice of fried belly, layered on their pickled cukes and the cilantro, and I was good to go.
People who judge food on TV often talk about how the best dishes have contrasts in textures and in tastes, and that is what you get from these little sumbitches.
Texture-wise: The bao itself is pillowy soft, the pickle has a snap, and the belly has a slight crunch.
Taste-wise: The bao has no flavor, but the pork is salty, the hoisin is sticky-sweet, and the pickles have a slight acidy bite.
Put that shit together, and each bite is a soft-crispy-crunch that tastes salty, acidic, and sweet.
To put that another way- There is a party in your mouth and everybody is coming.
They sent 24 buns and a gentlemanly 27 slices of pork… But I made only 7 baos that day.
Two for my bride and 5 for me… I added a ramekin filled with a Sriracha-plus-agave mixture, only because the dish contained no spicy-component, but it really wasn't necessary.
We scoffed them down with a little cold sake (actually a lot of cold sake) and I can say to you confidently that it was the closest thing I have had to an iconic restaurant dish made at home.
So, to sum up, here's that same stat again… 9 times out of 10 I will tell you to go to a restaurant as opposed to getting it delivered, but if you take your time reconstructing this pork bao kit from Momofuku, you can easily discover that 1 in 10 experience.
IWYIM
-Large
I casually mentioned a Veal Chop Valdastona above… For those poor bastards who don't know, "Valdostana" refers to the Val d’Aosta region of northern Italy that is famous for Fontina cheese. So the dish is simply slightly-pounded-out breaded veal chops that are browned in a pan, then topped with prosciutto and Fontina, and then finished in the oven, so the cheese melts and the chops remain moist.
It's the type of dish that makes Italian delivery drivers guys kiss their own filthy hand before plunging that same hand into your bag of food and stealing another french fry.
(he's on a Peloton)
So, if you never try a pork bun, try this veal dish next time you are at a good Italian joint.
TAR
-L