An Exercise in Far Eastern Sensibilities

I almost broke down and ordered Chinese food tonight. Not that there's anything wrong with that. It's not as if I'm on some sort of deprivation kick (although I freely admit to being a colossal food snob), it's just that it kills me to spend good money on bad take out. Even when I'm in absolutely no mood to cook, digging into the junk draw for the menus piled at the bottom of all the detritus we collect is an act of last resort. But the hankering for something Asian remained. What was in the cupboards?

Pasta in all shapes and sizes, sesame seeds, soy sauce, even the dregs of some peanut butter. The chill chest held a sad looking piece of ginger from god knows where, and frozen chicken breasts. The mind reeled.

Double Happiness Chicken Asian Noodles - by Blog O. Food

2 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves ⅛ cup sesame seeds ¼ cup peanut butter, I like chunky 2 garlic cloves, minced ½ Tbsp fresh ginger, minced 2½ Tbsp soy sauce 1 Tbsp rice vinegar ½ tsp hot sauce 1 Tbsp light brown sugar 8 oz Perciatelli* pasta ½ Tbsp Asian sesame oil ½ Tbsp peanut oil 2 green onions, thinly julienned ½ carrot, grated *Long strands of pasta. Fatter versions of spaghetti that have a hollow center running the length of the noodle.

Toast sesame seeds in a dry skillet over medium heat, tossing frequently, until golden brown, about 10 minutes. Reserve a half-tablespoon of sesame seeds in a small bowl.

Along with the peanut butter, garlic, ginger, soy sauce, vinegar, hot sauce and brown sugar, pour the remaining sesame seeds into the bowl of a food processor, set with a steel blade. Purée until smooth, scraping down the sides of the bowl once or twice.

With the machine running, drizzle in just enough hot water to form a creamy consistency to the sauce (a couple tablespoons). Set sauce aside.

Preheat the broiler on your oven, and place the broiler rack 6 inches away from the heat source. Heat the rack. Meanwhile, bring plenty of salted water to a boil in a heavy-bottomed stock pot.

Spray hot broiler rack with vegetable spray and set chicken breasts to broil until lightly browned on top, about 6 minutes. Carefully turn breasts with tongs and continue to broil until internal temperature reaches 160°, another 6-8 minutes. Transfer breasts to a cutting board, lightly tent and allow to rest. Shred chicken into bite-sized pieces.

While chicken rests, add noodles to boiling water and cook until tender, about 10 minutes. Drain and rinse with cold water until cool to the touch. Drain thoroughly, then pour into a large mixing bowl. Toss noodles with sesame and peanut oils to evenly coat. Add chicken, green onions, carrot and peanut sauce and toss to combine. Divide among soup bowls and sprinkle each with reserved sesame seeds and a little extra green onion for color. Enjoy with an ice cold Chinese or Japanese beer, or warm sake.

Again with the rinsed noodles, I know, I know!!! I've made sesame noodles several times now, and if you don't rinse the starch off the noodles after cooking, the next day's lunch is more of a gummy peanut butter paste than a pleasant reminder of last night's dinner. Ordering take out would most definitely be justified then. Also, most recipes call for a whole tablespoon of sesame oil for tossing with the noodles. I always think the dish tastes slightly burnt that way, so I cut the sesame with a little peanut oil and get, I think, just the right amount of toasty sesame flavor. Two breasts and a half-pound of noodles ought to serve 4 people.

Well, I saved about twelve dollars in food and delivery charges and can still look myself in the mirror. That made me doubly happy. I'm not judging anyone who picks up the phone or heads to the drive-thru instead of facing the dilemma of what to put on the table. There just may be an easy, tasty, money-saving alternative. I'm just sayin'!

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

Fatty Crab

Word of mouth - after the Dining and Wine section of the NY Times - has to be the absolute best way to learn about restaurants in New York City. I've been turned on to some real winners by friends and acquaintances in that fashion, and Fatty Crab is no exception. I first visited about two years ago on someone's recommendation and was blown out of the water by the fresh ingredients in the dishes, the intense heat of the chilies, and the casual intimacy of the setting. I've since taken several parties there and the verdict has always been a resounding validation of my first good impression.

Along with Chef de Cuisine Corwin Kave, owner Zak Pellacio opened Fatty Crab in October of 2005 after stints at 5 Ninth in the Meatpacking district and the Chickenbone Café in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Previously, Pellacio spent some considerable time in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia cooking and snooping around the food stalls for which most of Asia is justly famous. There, his aesthetic evolved with exposure to exotic flavors and ways of cooking. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Fatty Crab has a neat interior and an unfussy, eclectic atmosphere. There is a grudging nod to southeast Asian culture with elaborately carved wood chairs, ritual masks, and in the lavatory, aggressively red walls and hung bamboo. The space however can only be described as cramped. If you go, choose your dining companions with care. You'll be knocking knees with them most of the night at the tiny tables. The only relief that I've discovered is a stool at the bar where one can spread out a bit. You get a view of the kitchen and the dishes coming out, and free entertainment from the ever-cordial bartenders. I suspect they're hired not only for their mixing skills, but for their critically chic musical tastes, as you can always count on something interesting yet obscure blasting from the speakers.

On this latest visit, I was stood up by my date, who thought it would be more fun to catch a summer cold. I didn't want to miss the opportunity though, so after making sure my friend had nothing really seriously wrong, I headed out solo instead. It was relatively early for New York dining. Most of the tables inside and out were taken, but there was no waiting list, and I easily found a seat at the bar. I introduced myself to Devon, a bartender unfamiliar to me and we went over the menu. I wanted to capture a good cross section, but with a party of one, it is often difficult not to over do it. I settled on a couple of signature dishes and another that I had seen others order but had never tried myself. Instead of the predictable Asian beer, which can confidently hold its own against fiery dishes, I wanted to find a good wine pairing. Devon pointed out a Sicilian red that I had never heard of before, but since I love taking risks with unknown wines, we agreed on the Valle dell'Acate "Il Frappato". The frappato grape is found only in Sicily and is usually put into service as blending fruit. Standing on its own though, its freshness and acidity stand up admirably to spicier foods.

Line cooks John and Jesse brought out my starter. I went with the Watermelon Pickle and Crispy Pork salad. Tender chunks of roasted, fatty pork are tossed with fresh watermelon and pickled rind. They're complimented by a mound of julienned scallions, Thai basil and Vietnamese mint. You simply cannot fathom the genius of combining watermelon and pork until you've tried it. "You got your pork on my watermelon! You got your watermelon on my pork!" Somehow, the sweetness of the melon heightens everything you worship about pork. The herbs and pickling add a complexity that resolves itself into a light, almost sensual finish. It's as if someone were nibbling on your earlobe, only very subtly and in your mouth. (My worst analogy yet.)

Next was a new dish for me, the wet Wonton Mee, or soup. I say wet, because you can also order the soup without the soup. In Malaysia, evidently, mee, or noodle soup, often times comes dry with a broth served on the side. You can either add the broth to the dry ingredients, or sip it separately. Crazy, right? But then again, Americans smother their meat in A-1 sauce, so go figure. Fatty Crab's mee consists of thin, crispy-fried ramen noodles, steamed shrimp and pork wontons, wilted greens and more julienned scallions. The vegetable broth, seasoned perfectly with sesame and herbs, is added to the dry ingredients just before serving allowing the noodles to remain crisp for some time. On the side is a chili oil which I caution you to use with the minutest care. Just a couple of drops go a very long way. The overall impression of the mee is sesame. The noodles are fried with some sesame oil, and it stands out in the broth as well. Yet here again, subtleties come through as herbs, greens and scallions mix in the mouth. The wantons wontons are very nicely steamed and the mixture of the ground shrimp and pork compliment one another. Were I to change one thing, however, it would be the stock. A lighter liquid, I feel, would allow the other flavors to come forward on the stage.

Finally, and since my last post was about burgers, I ordered the Fatty Sliders. Simple, straightforward, perfectly executed. They come sandwiched in a little bun with a fresh slice of cucumber, butter lettuce, and what must be a spicy aioli. Because these mini burgers are a combination of ground beef and pork, they are cooked a little longer than I would normally prefer, but remain very juicy and quite flavorful. There is a wallop of black pepper mixed in the ground meat, and the garlic stands out in the mayonnaise, but not abruptly so.

I've had many of the other dishes on previous visits to Fatty Crab. Most have been exceptionally well thought out and prepared. Some of the fish paste items may initially challenge the palate, and other offerings like the Quail Egg Shooters never come to full effect, but the overall experience is always positive. The confined space and moderately high prices might keep some diners from becoming regulars, but this is a place that ought to be tried at least once. Just cozy up to your neighbors and keep your elbows off the tabletops!

Line cooks John and Jesse

Fatty Crab 643 Hudson Street (between Horatio & Gansevoort Streets) New York, NY 10014 212-352-3590 Open noon to midnight Monday through Wednesday, noon to 2:00am Thursday and Friday. Open for brunch at 11:00am on Saturday and Sunday. Reservations are not accepted. N.B. (web link), Current prices are way out of line with what are listed on their web menu - almost double in most cases. The curse of overhead and success, I guess.

Thanks for taking the time - Blog.O.Food