Weeknight-Friendly Duck Ssam

I love any kind of Ssam dishes. Ssam means 'wrapped' in Korean, and was most famously introduced to the masses by Momofuku of New York. Typically, it takes the form of lettuce wrapping rice, meat, kimchi and sauces. David Chang's recipe for Bo Ssam marinates and pretty much cures the pork shoulder in sugar and salt, roasting it low and slow with a final sugar rub into the pork fat and a high blast, rendering the fat crisp and sweet. It is incredible, but it does take the best part of two days and quite the occasion to warrant it.

I've always loved this way of eating. Sang choi bao is the Chinese version, often made with minced meat and piled into rigid Iceberg lettuce cups. You get all the textures; crisp fresh vegetable, rich meat flavours. The all-in-one mouthful.

When I had a friend come for dinner on a Friday night, I set out to recreate my favourite meal in an easily doable space of time to still be hospitable. It worked a treat. Duck breasts were slung in a marinade of mirin, soy and sake for the duration of preparing the other ingredients, roughly half an hour. The marinade itself was utilised afterwards, as a sauce for the glass noodles to soak right up. Duck being a very richly flavoured meat, benefitted from a mint, coriander and jalapeno dressing along with my favourites of ginger and spring onion sauce, and kimchi. A lovely combination of flavours, one we customised to each mouthful.

Duck Ssam

Serves 2 generously

2 duck breasts
2 tbsp light soy sauce
2 tbsp mirin
2 tbsp cooking sake
1 inch of ginger, grated
1 clove of garlic, grated

Mix the marinade ingredients well, and place in a shallow bowl. Place the duck breasts into the marinade, meat side down. Try to keep the skin dry.

1 head of Little Gem or a small butter lettuce, leaves separated and washed

4 stalks of spring onion, minced
2 inches of ginger, minced
1 tbsp cooking oil
1/2 tsp sherry vinegar
A hefty pinch of salt

2 tbsp store-bought or your own kimchi in a bowl

A small handful of mint leaves, picked off the stems
A larger handful of coriander
2 green jalapenos
A hefty pinch of salt
A squirt of lime juice

30gr glass noodles, soaked in hot water until softened, then drain

Whizz up the mint, coriander, jalapenos, salt, lime juice with 1 tsp water until you a smooth sauce. Place in a bowl.

Add the ginger and salt to a heatproof bowl and heat the cooking oil until smoking. Pour over the ginger so it sizzles a lot. Add the spring onions and vinegar, and mix well. Set to one side.

Dab the marinade off the duck and dry both sides. Salt the skin and then place in a cast iron or non-stick pan skin side down, then place on the heat. The key to a good, crisp duck skin is starting it from cold. Gradually heat up the pan, rendering the fat out, and checking frequently. You can tilt the pan and spoon some of the accumulated fat over the meat side, but you may need to remove some too as duck is super fatty. Do this until you have a rich, golden brown skin, then flip. Fry on the meat side on a medium-high heat for around 3 minutes, pressing it down for even contact. Remove immediately and place on a plate to rest for 15 minutes.

Drain the fat out of the pan, then add the leftover marinade and bring to a bubble. Remove from the heat and add the glass noodles, constantly moving them around to soak up the marinade and prevent from sticking in clumps.

Slice the duck breast finely and place back over the noodles to serve with the lettuce, sauces, and kimchi. Assemble the perfect mouthful with a lettuce leaf, some glass noodles, a slice of duck and whichever sauces take your fancy. Serve with napkins.

Manhattan In a Weekend

My trips to New York are becoming more and more audacious; everyone I told that I was going just for a weekend responded with incredulity. It's a touch longer than a weekend; we went over the bank holiday, leaving work at 1pm on the Friday, to arrive back in London on Monday evening. Obviously it isn't enough time in My Spiritual Home, but it would have to do.

Our last odyssey had us there at the beginning of January 2015, a frigid time filled with freezing winds, snow and a lot of woollens. This time, it couldn't have been more opposite, the balmy weather hitting the early 30s Celcius. Due to our shortened timescales, we decided to stay at Hotel Chandler, a lovely little hotel right in the middle of K-Town, to allow us good access to Newark Airport - definitely, definitely fly to Newark over JFK. It is dreamy, in comparison.

We dumped our bags and headed straight to Gramercy Tavern, which has been on my list for years. We slung a bucketful of martini down our necks, and were taken aback by the deliciousness of the cornbread with lamb sausage and green tomato. It's not the Deep South cornbread I thought it was going to be; the crisp flatbread was embedded with corn, topped with minced lamb patties, and the green tomatoes were apple-like in crisp sweetness. For days afterwards we still debated if this was the best thing we ate.

A tomato salad with stone fruits and basil was light and summery, refreshing and served to us in individual bowls, divided so we didn't have to fight, as they knew we were sharing. That is service. I don't think I really knew good (casual) service until going to New York.

Grilled corn, shrimp and dumplings in miso was richly flavoured, bursting with sweetness and seafood. We both zoned in on this one the minute we opened our menus, being the Asian-lovers we are, and it was everything I wanted out of a bowl.

Roasted tomatoes, macaroni and cheddar cheese was comforting goodness, without being too rich and sleep-inducing. We had just come off a nearly 8 hour flight and we were wary of cutting our evening short with a carb-hit to end all evenings, but we needn't have worried. Just the right portion size for two, the extra crunch of the breadcrumbs on top ensured each mouthful kept our attention till the end. We forewent dessert, and I regret not trying the wild blueberry pie, but cocktail bars required our attention. Of all the meals of the weekend, it wasn't the cheapest, at $170 total but it was worth each one of our hard-earned Brexit-fucked pennies. I can't talk about the exchange rate right now, it hurts too much.

The next day we bounded out of bed to meet a dear friend at Jack's Wife Freda, a restaurant that has branches in SoHo and the West Village. The latter is larger, so we only had a short wait for a table as my hangover kicked in with ferocity and I was only able to muster the orange blossom and honey pancakes. The green shakshuka and the Madame Freda, made with duck prosciutto were well received by my friends, though a little more care on the egg cooking may have been necessary to be rid of that dreaded egg white flob.

Root & Bone was the venue for lunch, where we met up with Rej of Gastro Geek fame, and reminisce about the good old days of food blogging in London. Well, I imagine we would have done more of that if we weren't so bewitched by her utterly gorgeous two little boys who ran us ragged with their cheekiness and boundless energy. Parenting is hard. Anyway, we bimbled around for a while until our table was ready and dang (to use a localism?) that place was packed, but you can book.

The waitresses were harried, but efficient and soon enough, a half bucket of the crispest fried chicken arrived, along with a watermelon salad dressed with jalapeno buttermilk. Around us, people were having fried chicken with waffles and eggs benedict, brunching hard and enjoying the shaded outdoor seating.

We stopped for a drink at The Frying Pan, a big boat off Chelsea, along with a lot of New York's younger revellers (top picture). I'll freely admit I felt a little old there, but the sun was shining and it's nice being on water. We plotted our course through the afternoon and decided to stop off at Momofuku Nishi in time for Happy Hour (5:30pm). When The Impossible Burger was on the menu, we had to try it.

Made entirely from plants and plant-based products, it's meant to mimic the flavour of a hamburger. It does, and I think it's largely down to the condiments. The burger comes with a McDonald's-esque burger sauce, strong in pickle flavour, and the lettuce, tomato and slappy cheese go along to help that. The bun is squishy and sweet, and there is a hint of a meaty char. It's a decent attempt and I think if I were a vegetarian I might enjoy it more, but it definitely doesn't have the same mouthfeel or satisfaction of a normal cheeseburger.

I had to convince my friend to order the 'butter noodles - chickpea hozon, black pepper' - "but Lizzie, we were only coming for a snack!". Well, if it isn't the best bloody noodle dish I've had in a while. It's like cacio e pepe, except somehow richer in flavour, and lighter in feeling. It had intense savouriness from the hozon - a term invented by chef / owner Chang for making miso out of non-traditional ingredients (soybeans being the most common). The noodles were cooked to almost too al dente, but only almost. I know I'm a David Chang fan anyway, but seriously. (Also, for $19, I'd hope so too.)

We ate in Korea Town more often than we'd intended to, but that's no bad thing. After going to my friend's incredibly beautiful and fun wedding, we found ourselves hammered and hungry at 4am. K-Town was still up an at it, and we wobbled through the doorway of BCD Tofu House down to the basement for some late-night booze-soaker-upper-supper. It. Was. Rammed. At 4am, packed to the rafters. We were agog; truly, it is the city that never sleeps. They brought us banchan (Korean pickles) of kimchi, marinated beansprouts, pak choi, a strange mayonnaise-y potato salad, a freshly fried salted fish and various other bits before we'd even ordered. I think I had a soondoobu jjigae (spicy seafood and tofu stew) and I'm pretty sure my friend had the pork bulgogi but what I do know is we left stuffed and happy, $30 all told (though we were all boozed out by then, so that's just food). I love you, New York.

On our last night too, we went to Kang Ho Dong Baekjeong (say that after a few) for Korean barbecue; the place is open till 6am EVERY NIGHT. Two floors, and packed at 10pm on a Sunday night. Mental. We feasted on their beef combo of bulgogi, prime rib and other cuts, while omelette poofed and cooked on the right and corn cooked down with gooey cheese on the left. A vast array of pickles and lettuce and sauces accompanied the meal and they also brought us a fiery kimchi stew. A teeth-achingly sweet carafe of yuzu sochu cocktail made us giddy. I was in heaven.

I wanted to try some ramen in New York, so we headed to Ivan Ramen's Slurp Shop in Hell's Kitchen which is housed in a pretty helpful food court. It's a bit Westfield in feeling but as it has tacos, tapas and decent coffee, it would suit the most diverse of cravings amongst a group. The breakfast ramen, with cheesy dashi, ham and omelette (top) was pretty mega; too much for me to handle, but my friend went in with gusto. I opted for the Shio ramen with extra toppings of enoki mushrooms (weirdly plonked on raw), a soft egg and toasted nori. It was a decent bowl of noodles, but we do it better in London. Spicy miso-buttered corn on a stick was a nice touch, though the cabbage salad was uninspiring. It is not the crisp, crunchy sweetness of our very own Bone Daddies.

We walked 17 kilometres around New York on both days, enjoying the sunshine and avoiding the subway - as well as working up our appetites for more food. Harry & Ida's Meat Supply Co. was an oasis of calm, shaded and bedecked in wood, reminiscent of a film set though I'm not sure which. We'd squeezed in some cheeky dumplings from Tasty Dumpling (I wouldn't bother again; they were roughly hewn, and overly doughy) as well as crammed in some tofu and noodles from Xi'an Famous Foods, a must if ever I'm in the city - so this sandwich wasn't one I was hugely enthused about. I was positively lethargic. "Can we get Ida's?" I bleated. Ida's is the 'light' version of the pastrami sandwich. (Something something female stereotypes huff huff something). 

It is wonderful. The bread is light - no roof of the mouth scrapings here - and spongy, and the inside is smeared with wholegrain mustard that has a strong hint of the American about it (you know the type, French's). The meat is warm and fatty - and actually the American 'pastrami' is our salt beef - and full of fatty, juicy flavour. The cucumber pickles are crisp and sweet, though we plucked out some of the over-generous fronds of dill. If I lived in New York I'd buy that pastrami by the pound, which they sell there in bulk, along with smoked eel, bluefish salad, smoked chicken etc. 

We waddled off to get an ice cream at The Big Gay Ice Cream Shop, and went for the Salty Pimp; soft serve vanilla with salted caramel, dipped in chocolate. Holygod. 

Diet time. 

Mushroom & Perilla Tagliatelle

Perilla is a brilliant herb. Incredibly beautiful, with purple undersides, it's a robust leaf and it has an incredible fragrance to it. A little anise, a hint of mint, slightly medicinal, it is used across Vietnamese, Korean and Japanese cooking. It is very similar to shiso - I would find it difficult to tell the difference in a flavour test. In London, you can buy huge bunches of the stuff cheaply at Longdan in Elephant and Castle - they also have other branches. You can buy shiso leaves at The Japan Centre, but here they're not cheap at all. I bought this particular bunch for the Bun Rieu, and I was left with a huge bunch of the rest. So what to do? 

Pasta. Obviously. 

This kind of pasta, called 'wafu', is based on Japanese fusion. It takes European ingredients and fusions it with Japanese flavours. Here, I used tagliatelle and a rich butter and miso sauce to dress the pasta in. Exotic mushrooms like shimeji and brown beech mushrooms are bolstered with oyster mushrooms too. I loved this; the butter gives it a luxurious richness, and when mixed with soy sauce and miso, it really adds a whole lot of umami to those mushrooms. Shredded perilla give it an extra citrus-like freshness. 

Mushroom & Perilla Tagliatelle

Serves 2

400gr dried tagliatelle
A handful of oyster mushrooms, washed and roughly chopped
A half handful each of shimeji & brown beech mushrooms, washed well
1 clove of garlic, minced
40gr butter
2 tbsp white miso 
2 tbsp light soy sauce
A rib or two of cavalo nero or spring greens, shredded finely
1 stalk of spring onion, greens finely sliced at an angle, whites saved for another
3 perilla leaves, shredded
1 tbsp vegetable oil

Put the pasta on to cook in heavily salted water. 

Melt the butter and mix in the white miso and soy sauce until completely incorporated In a cast iron pan, add the oil and heat on high until smoking. Add the oyster mushrooms and sear for a few moments before moving them around the pan. Add the clove of garlic and stir continuously so the garlic doesn't catch. Add the shimeji and brown beech mushrooms, cook for another minute, and then add the butter miso and soy mixture, taking it off the heat as you mix it in. 

For the final minute, add the cavalo nero to the pasta cooking water, then drain, reserving 4 tbsp of the cooking water. Add the tagliatelle to the mushroom mixture and mix well, with a little of the reserved cooking water. Serve, and garnish with the spring onion and perilla leaves. 

Korean-Style Glazed Meatballs

I'm as guilty as the next person of buying groceries and promptly forgetting about it, going off to meet friends, work late, neglect dinner. It always makes me feel really guilty; so guilty in fact that I find myself boiling eggs at 1am, half drunk, so they don't go off and I can make the most of them. Waste is a bad thing, and I hope I never change in this respect. I don't want to be one of those people who can wantonly throw away food without a thought behind it. Long may the guilt live. 

This recipe was borne out of that very feeling. I watched flat peaches slowly wrinkle, the skin toughening, the fruit ripening. I just kept forgetting about them until it wasn't possible to ignore any longer. I could bake a cake with them, or make them into compote maybe. That would then sit in the fridge and grow fur. 

Or I could make Korean-style meatballs! A much better idea. These are a perfect starter for a few people, or you could have them over rice. I actually preferred them wrapped in lettuce leaves, like a riff on bo ssam, that pork dish served wrapped in leaves, with condiments. A bit of fresh lettuce crunch is perfect with the sweet spiciness of this sauce. 

Korean Style Glazed Meatballs

300gr minced beef with a bit of fat
A handful of panko breadcrumbs, soaked in a splash of milk
1 clove of garlic, minced
1 inch of ginger, peeled and grated
A hefty pinch of salt
2 small flat peaches, peeled and cut into cubes
2 tbsp gochujang 
1.5 tbsp rice vinegar
1.5 tbsp light soy sauce
1 tbsp sesame oil
1 tbsp water
A handful of chives, snipped
Lettuce leaves - round, Iceberg or Romaine, washed and cut into palm-sized pieces

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C. Place the peach in a small saucepan with a lid and cook on a very low heat until the fruit has softened and released its' liquid. Add a splash of water if it is catching. 

Meanwhile, drain the breadcrumbs and add to the beef with the garlic, ginger, sesame oil and salt. Mix lightly with your hands, and roll into golf-ball-sized balls. Place on a oiled sheet of greaseproof paper and place them in the oven. Cook for 15 minutes. 

Once the peach has softened into a mush, add the tbsp of water, gochujang, vinegar and soy sauce. Blitz with a handheld blender, and return to a low heat to simmer for 3 - 4 minutes. Keep warm. 

Fan out the lettuce leaves on a plate. Dip each meatball in the sauce and roll it around so it is covered, then place on a lettuce leaf. Repeat, and then scatter with snipped chives, and serve. 

CheeMc, Walworth Road

It's taken me a while to write this up, and I am placing the blame solely on the above. Soju. Freely available at Chee Mc, a divey little Korean place on Walworth Road, walkable from my house - at least I think so, as neither of us remember the journey home - and with an extensive fried chicken menu. I was tipped off by the ever excellent Su-Lin and me and my friend bumbled off there one Saturday night to try it out. 

They are really not messing about with the fried chicken. They sell them as half portions or whole in various different sauces, but you can also order a mixture of two types, which obviously we did. It is my motto in life that one shouldn't have to make a choice if they can just have it all. This one was covered in finely shredded spring onions, so dense and bushy we struggled to separate the strands. In any case, the chicken was freshly fried with a crisp crunchy coating. Tables around us filled up, mostly Koreans, though there was one lady on her own next to us, sniffling and sucking air through her teeth as she negotiated a portion of the chilli chicken. 

We ordered beers and soju, and were talked up to the stronger 19% version by our very sweet waitress who went to great lengths to explain everything to us. That's where things became a little... blurry. I had wondered what these ice-bucket-esque tongs were for, and looking around, people were picking the chicken up with them and eating directly from them. It was a lively atmosphere; lots of people drinking beers with big groups of friends. I liked the place a lot. 

For a little vegetable balance, we ordered some kimchi which was unremarkable but refreshing, spicy and crunchy to cut through the fried-ness of the chicken. At around £4 or £5 a portion it wasn't a great deal, but we also got lightly pickled radish included with our chicken so we were satisfied that we were not going to become vitamin-deficient. 

Our mix n' match was the 'sweet garlic sauce'. FFF me. It was honky. It was so honky, in fact, I feared it would linger until Monday. The garlic was indeed sweet, but wow, that garlic. Let's not forget the amount of spring onion I ingested too. Another bottle of soju to wash it down. The first text message I sent the next day said "I SMELL TERRIBLE". 

Woman cannot live on chicken alone though, so we ordered the cheesy ramen which was exactly that. Instant ramen in a spicy broth (Shin raymun perhaps?) topped with stir-fried onions and spring onions for added breath-effect, and then topped with a melted piece of slappy cheese. Friends, it was glorious. The cheese mixed in with the broth to give it some creaminess and to temper the spice. We hoovered this up. I have a recipe for something similar, called Buddae Jjigae in Chinatown Kitchen and it was developed as a hangover of the Korean War. The Koreans used frankfurters, spam and processed cheese in their cooking, left behind by the American G.Is, which is where this sort of fusion comes from. 

We boxed up the leftover chicken and paid around £30 per head with service. A not-insubstantial amount given it was a tiny little café near the Elephant and Castle, but I don't think we went light on the booze since I was so unwell the next day I cried. Yup. Garlicky little hungover sobs. I'd go back though, especially since everyone else we saw had ordered the glistening, sticky red of gochujang on their chicken, studded with sesame seeds. And for that slappy cheese ramen. Hold that soju though.

CheeMc

310 Walworth Road
London SE17 2NA

Kimchi & Spam Fried Rice

I know, I know, Spam isn't the most glamorous of foods but it is one of the tastiest and I won't hear otherwise. Canned meat isn't always going to appeal, but cast aside any doubts of that pink rectangular mass sliding out of that can and do as follows. Because really it is delicious, as long as you treat it properly. 

So. Slice it, or cube it. Fry it with just the littlest bit of oil so that all the edges are bronzed and crisp. And then fry it for a little longer, just to make sure they really are crisp. Then, top freshly steamed rice with it. Squirt a little Sriracha over it. Or lay it upon instant noodles for a really filthy treat. You could wang it on a slice of bread, melt a little slappy cheese on top, squirt some ketchup and top it with more buttered bread for a treat that is strictly relegated to winter sport holidays, because by god you'll need to burn that off. My book, Chinatown Kitchen, includes other recipes using Spam, as well as a recipe for home-made kimchi. 

One of my favourite preparations is to cook it with fried rice in strong, punchy flavourings. Kimchi's garlicky pungency works well with the salty meat, flavouring the blandness of the rice, studded through with some guilt-balancing vegetables. You can use anything - sweetcorn, peas, carrots... I went for tenderstem broccoli and fine green beans. 

Kimchi & Spam Fried Rice 

Serves 2

200gr dry white rice, cooked and cooled overnight
1/2 a white onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
70gr kimchi, drained and chopped
1/2 a can of Spam, cubed
A handful of green beans, or broccoli, or whatever your choice - diced
4 eggs
1 tbsp fish sauce
3 spring onions, sliced diagonally, whites separated from greens
4 tbsp cooking oil
Chilli oil (optional, to serve)

Heat a wok to a high heat and when it's smoking, turn it down a touch and add 2 tbsp cooking oil. Beat two of the eggs together in a bowl, then add it to the wok. Stir a little, then when it has just set, remove and place on a plate. 

Add another tbsp oil to the wok, swirl around and when it is just below smoking, add the diced onion,  whites of the spring onion, kimchi, garlic and the vegetables. Stir fry until the kimchi is dry-ish. 

Meanwhile, fry two eggs in a non-stick pan with the remaining tbsp oil until the whites are set and the yolks are runny. Place to one side. 

Push the vegetables to one side and add the cubed Spam. Stir-fry gently every couple of minutes so that the edges crisp up, then mix the vegetables in. Turn the heat up to the highest, then crumble the rice into the wok and leave for a minute, then toss together and stir fry for a minute, breaking up any clumps. Drizzle the fish sauce over the rice, and continue to stir-fry for a minute. Add the scrambled egg back in, then stir fry for another minute to break the egg up within the rice. To serve, garnish with the greens of the spring onion, and drizzle with chilli oil. 

Where to Shop in Chinatown, London

I love Chinatown. I love my Chinatown, I love Toronto's Chinatown, I love New York's Chinatown - both Flushing and Manhattan. I love Chinatown so much, I've written a cookbook about the ingredients you find in Chinatown. That's how much I love Chinatown.

Our own, just off Leicester Square, isn't huge. Three main streets - Wardour Street, Gerrard Street, Lisle Street - make up the main bulk of it, with smaller capillary streets running off and around it. It's rammed full of restaurants, shops, supermarkets and bakeries - it's never anything short of colourful and bustling.

Here are the places I like to shop for ingredients the most.

Dansey Place - parallel to Gerrard Street, it's a grimy little alleyway, and rather a daunting one to walk down. But it is home to Lo's Noodle Factory, a tiny little shop that sells rice noodles and buns. I can't say that this is the most comfortable shopping experience. It isn't really a shop - it's a bunch of cardboard boxes and industrial machinery in a room with a man who doesn't speak a great deal of English. They definitely don't take card. But they do sell silky smooth fresh flat rice noodles, called ho fun, and rice noodle rolls (chee cheung fun) as well as fluffy buns. It might be a point-and-grin situation but he's really friendly, and the noodles are so fresh they're often still warm in that slightly greasy plastic bag they're sold in. They're incomparable to dried, fresh are so much better, and it's £1 a bag. (I have a recipe in my book for seafood ho fun noodles in egg gravy...) 

Down the same alleyway, is a teeeeny tiny shop that sells fresh vegetables. Apparently it's called Mrs Mao's, after the owner who grows the vegetables at her smallholding in Kent, but it doesn't have much in the way of English signage. Bok choi, chives, mustard greens, gai laan (Chinese broccoli) are all sold here, and in a way that you can choose your own portion rather than pre-bagged.

Young Cheng Fresh Seafood Shop often sells crabs and lobsters straight from the tank, and pigs blood, clams, whelks, prawns and a variety of fresh fish from slabs of chipped ice.

Back out on to Gerrard Street proper, Loon Fung is the largest of the supermarkets and I shop there for their butcher counter. There, you can buy tripe, minced pork, tongue, pork belly and various other bits, or they have a fridge section with it pre-packaged. This place is good for general Chinese stuff.

New Loon Moon also stocks a lot of Chinese products, but their main specialism is Thai and Vietnamese produce. This is the place to go to buy herbs and vegetables like lemongrass, Thai basil, galangal and the likes. They also sell green peppercorns, krachai, Vietnamese hot mint and coriander, and even stinky petai beans. They have a vast Korean and Japanese dry goods section upstairs too.

See Woo also has branches in Greenwich and Glasgow, and this tightly packed shop is where I buy my equipment (downstairs) and also has a great variety of vegetables. They're the only place I've ever seen that sells celtuce, and their greens always look fresh and perky. They also sell my favourite soy sauce, Pearl River Premium Deluxe light soy.

Of course, not all of us have access to Central London, so a few other places to shop:

Wing Yip, Croydon & Cricklewood
Korea Foods: New Malden, Cambridge, Golders Green, Bournemouth, Birmingham, Mitcham, Reading, Coventry 
Wing Tai: Peckham, Brixton & Croydon
Wai Yee Hong, Bristol
Longdan (specialises in Vietnamese): Shoreditch, Leyton, Kingston, Elephant & Castle
Hoo Hing: Romford, Enfield, Leyton, Mitcham, Park Royal, Milton Keynes and online

Online:

Sous Chef
Japan Centre

Where do you like to shop? Where have I missed? Do you have any hidden gems? Do share!

Korean-Style Spaghetti

I know. On first sight of those ingredients together, you might be forgiven for thinking I'm off my rocker. But bear with me, because this WORKS. It really does. 

It stemmed from what my more successful experiments usually stem from; insane hunger mixed with deep and abject skintness. The root cause of this is that I'm moving house. I'm flying the nest 2.5 miles away to the bright lights of Camberwell. So long, East Dulwich! You've been good to me. 

The fridge needed clearing out. Despite moving at least 12 times in my 28 years, I'm still a hoarder. I love stuff. I uncovered university prospectuses that I must've lugged around with me for 8 years. I didn't even go to uni. In a feeble attempt to cut down on packing, I rootled around the fridge and the cupboards and this beauty was born. Kimchi and gochujang combine to make a spicy sauce base, the latter's stickiness thickening the sauce up nicely, while the milk, cheese and sour cream (BEAR WITH ME) take the harshness down a notch or two. Bacon is essential because, well, bacon. You can leave the vegetables out but on your head the scurvy be it. 

Korean-Style Spaghetti

Serves 2

220gr spaghetti
1 small courgette, cut into batons
A handful of sugar snap peas, julienned
2 tbsp kimchi, chopped finely
2 rashers of streaky bacon, diced
2 heaped tbsp gochujang
1 tbsp ketchup
200ml milk
2 spring onions, whites separated from the greens, also julienned
2 tbsp sour cream
A handful of cheddar or parmesan
1 tsp vegetable oil

Set the spaghetti on to cook. In a saucepan, add the vegetable oil with the diced bacon and fry on a medium heat until browned and crisp. Add the courgette batons, whites of the spring onions and the kimchi and fry, stirring every couple of minutes, until the courgette has softened. 

Add the gochujang and the milk to the courgettes and stir together well, incorporating the milk into the sauce. Add the ketchup and simmer gently for 5 minutes. By now, the pasta should be just under al dente (if the sauce is taking longer just take the pasta off the heat). Add a scant few tablespoons of the pasta water to the sauce and drain the pasta. Add the sugar snap peas, sour cream and the pasta into the sauce pot and cook on a low heat, tossing and turning the pasta so that it is evenly coated and the sauce clings to the strands. 

To serve, divide evenly into bowls. Garnish with the cheese and the green julienned spring onion. Chopsticks? A fork? I don't know. 

Spicy Seafood Ramen

I've always been obsessed with noodle soups. My noodle of choice is that wide flat noodle, hor fun - soft and slippery, filling and comforting. My heart has been stolen recently by another though. Ramen noodles, now so trendy in London at least, so elastic and thin. Emma of Tonkotsu gifted me a bundle of fresh ramen noodles, made in-house by their beast of a noodle machine. I knew I had to rustle up something special to make the most of them. 

I didn't have time to be simmering tons of pork bones long enough to make a tonkotsu. I decided instead on a seafood ramen, a spicy one at that to blow out the cold I had picked up. 

I'm lucky enough to live near an excellent fishmonger; their raw shell-on prawns have heads that give you a vividly orange and intensely prawn-flavoured, sweet stock. They threw in a sea bass head and carcass for free after I asked for one; if you do the same, don't use oily fish for this - white fish only. A piece of kombu seaweed went in as well, to really deepen that flavour of the sea. Once strained, garlic was softened in a little oil and then gochujang, that sweet fermented Korean chilli paste, to flavour the broth. A handful of Korean chilli flakes, famous for their colour but mild heat, went in too. 

And then it's really just quick cooking and assembly. Mussels, cleaned and debearded slip into the broth - just as they're about to open, some raw prawns. Warmed bowls are filled with freshly cooked noodles, vegetables placed carefully on top. A couple squares of nori followed, then ladles of hot stock and seafood. To finish, fish skin crisps - yup, crisps made of fish skin - carefully placed so that they're half in the broth and half out. That half crispiness, half floppiness is one of my favourite texture contrasts. It was a comforting bowl, spicy but deep in flavour. Inspired by Bone Daddies' seafood kimchi special, some kimchi would have gone in had I had any but actually the broth benefitted from being subtle and spicy without the fermented cabbage tang. I wish I had been bothered enough to make nitamago (that gooey, marinated egg) to nestle on top. 

I won't lie. All these ingredients are pretty specialist, but you'll find them in Oriental supermarkets or online. 

Spicy Seafood Ramen

Serves 4

4 bundles of ramen noodles (or use fresh wonton noodles from the supermarket)
4 raw prawns, head and shell on
1 fish carcass, like a sea bass or hake head
1 large handful of mussels, cleaned and debearded
3 coin-like slices of ginger
400ml chicken stock
1 square of kombu seaweed
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1 heaped tbsp gochujang
1 handful of Korean coarse chilli flakes
1 handful of beansprouts, blanched
1/2 tsp salt
A small handful of mizuna or rocket, roughly chopped
2 leaves of Chinese cabbage, roughly chopped
2 sheets of nori, quartered
1 spring onion, julienned
A bag of fish crisps (optional)

Simmer the chicken stock with the kombu, ginger, prawn heads and shells, salt and the fish carcass for 45 mins. Strain through a fine sieve. 

Fry the minced garlic in a little oil, then add the gochujang. Fry until fragrant. Add a little of the stock to the pan and mix well so that there are no lumps. Add the rest of the stock. Add the mussels for a couple of minutes, then the prawns. As soon as the prawns have turned pink, sieve the stock into another pan, reserving the mussels and prawns. 

Cook the noodles for 35 secs or so, until tender. Drain and add to the bowls. Meanwhile, bring the stock up to the boil and add the Chinese cabbage. Arrange the mussels, prawns, beansprouts, and nori neatly in the bowl. Ladle the broth evenly over the noodles. Garnish with fish crisps, rocket / mizuna and the spring onions, then serve immediately, with chilli oil for everyone to add in themselves.

Eating in Toronto, Canada

I spent just over a week in Canada - mainly Toronto, with a countryside jaunt to Penetanguishene. Yes, I can't pronounce that either. Toronto was perfect for sightseeing (EATING) with 25 degrees and sunshine every day. We wandered around happily, devouring bags of pickle-flavoured Doritos and bacon chipotle popcorn, willing our digestive systems to do its thing so that we could stuff another meal in. Here's some of the things that made me fat. 

Upon our arrival we headed for Chinatown where we witnessed a spring roll eating competition. Two of the three competitors managed a pitiful 4 in 6 minutes. We heckled, and then headed for Mother's Dumplings. Well-flavoured with thin skins and decent crisp bottoms, the pork and prawn potstickers came as 10 priced at around £5 (top picture). Siu long bao, those broth-filled dumplings that are so hard to get good were listed as 'juicy pork buns' on the menu. Left to cool down for as long as we could bear, I caved in and delicately grabbed one, with only mild burnage from the exploding dumpling. It's a real skill, judging and being able to wait until the dumplings are of temperate heat. The dumpling skins were just the right thickness to hold their contents, and the broth was appropriately porky and full of ginger flavour. 

We were staying in Koreatown so a lunch there was inevitable. It was a particularly hot day which prompted me to order the Naengmyeon in an empty Korea House - buckwheat noodles, served in an icy cold noodle soup. The soup even had ice floating in it, so cold it was. The noodles had a great chewiness to them and I was pleased the waitress had come with scissors to cut them into manageable lengths as I was victim of the noodle flap. Garnished with half a boiled egg and a seriously chewy, dry piece of beef, this was a vinegary dish; the slices of radish are pickled, and it was served with a bottle of vinegar on the side so that you can add more to your taste. Refreshing, though I found the one-flavourness of it all a bit dull by the end of it. But no matter, as little dishes (provided FREE, as it should be - you hear, London?) of banchan - two types of kimchi, some seasoned bean sprouts, seasoned seaweed and a totally awesome potato marinated in something salty and sweet - broke up the monotony. I have no idea whether this is the best place to eat in K-Town, but my friend's stew and a noodle dish were pretty good too. 

Banh Mi Boys was recommended to me by the lovely Shayma and happily it turned out to be almost next door to where we had arranged to go boozing that evening. It was meant to be. Inside, you park a friend at one of 10 or so seats while you go and place your order and wait for the food. The menu reads well, with a selection of banh mi, Korean-style tacos and steamed baos. I went for a classic lemongrass-grilled pork banh mi - a bargain at £3.50ish - with a side of kimchi fries. The banh mi was excellent, properly airy and light baguette with intenselyporky pork that was juicy from its marinade. Pickled carrot and daikon was in abundance and provided a crunchy contrast to the meat. Kimchi fries were thin skin-on chips topped with pulled pork, kimchi, spring onion and mayo; despite its name, the kimchi seemed an ingredient too far but they were still hoovered up quick smart.

Speaking of chips, we couldn't very well go to Canada without trying poutine, could we? Chips topped with gravy and cheese curds was never going to sound massively appealing, but they were awesome drunk food, and I imagine it would also be awesome hangover food. Poutini's House of Poutine serves only that, with standing room to enjoy your gravy-drenched chips interspersed with squeaky curds. We went for the classic, while my friend went for 'the works' - topped with bacon, sour cream and chives. I'm surprised he didn't die of a heart attack then and there. Compared to another poutine we had (at Holy Chuck), the gravy was more peppery but had decent beef flavour. 

It was at Holy Chuck that we had awesomely beefy burgers. The only day it rained, we took shelter by stuffing our faces with them, poutine and bacon panko-crusted deep fried pickles. The menu (PDF alert!) is massive and daunting as well as slightly terrifying (check out the Go Chuck Yourself) but I finally decided on the Big Bad Wolf. At around £6, it was two patties fried in 'ball park mustard' and topped with caramelised onions and cheese. Cooked medium as standard, it was so juicy and beefy the juices ran down my hands almost to the elbow. The deep fried pickles, thick cut and served with a spicy mayo were glorious. The poutine was addictive. I'm drooling a little, recalling this meal actually. 

La Carnita was recommended to us and we popped by for a taco snack before our dinner plans. Once a street van and now a permanent fixture, La Carnita was opened by a couple of chaps from a digital design agency. We sat outside so I can't comment much about the decor, but the tacos were far from authentic Mexican street food; instead they were presented prettily, with modern takes on them such as using apple and mango as part of the toppings. We were big fans of the ox tongue tostada (back left) and the battered fish taco was greaseless and light. I wish we'd gone back for a more thorough work out of the menu. For a more traditional take on tacos, we liked El Trompo on Kensington Market. Good margaritas too.

A trip to St Lawrence Market saw us eating three lunches. We started off with a Canadian speciality; peameal bacon. More like a ham steak these were half an inch thick and crusted with corneal. It was like an awesome ham sandwich. 

Downstairs, we couldn't resist the meatball godfather. Holy god. In a soft bun, firstly breaded and deep fried aubergine slices covered the base of the bun. 3 meatballs, sliced in half and topped with red sauce went on top of that. Another slice of aubergine followed, with hot peppers (which were really freaking hot) softened with onions and mushrooms. More red sauce. Then the lid. It was bigger than my face. 

Back at ground floor level, Buster's Sea Cove offers various fish in sandwich format or to serve it with salad, fries or rice, mostly under a tenner depending on what type of fish you  choose. We opted for a sandwich - beautifully fried fish with tartare sauce and a little salad in thin, crisp bread. We also got grilled calamari that was dressed in a garlicky, lemon and parsley sauce. The squid took on the flavours of the charcoal grill, and was tender and smoky. The slaw was thankfully mayonnaise-free, and I was only sad we couldn't fit in a portion of fries as they looked like the skin-on, crispy, curly version. Who doesn't love curly fries? (Don't say you. Then we couldn't be friends.) Be warned; the market isn't open on Sundays or Mondays.

And finally, I had to indulge in my guilty pleasure. McDonald's fillet o' fish. But in Toronto they have DOUBLE fillet o' fish! Double deliciousness. Don't judge me.