A postcard from New York: Momofuku Noodle Bar

I turned 30 yesterday. In testament to the fact that I am now (allegedly) a thoughtful and rational adult, I celebrated my third decade on this earth by running away to New York, pumping loads of money into a jukebox in the East Village and dancing badly to ‘Abracadabra’ by the Steve Miller Band. And then, because no birthday would be complete without me eating my own body weight in at least one meat product which will inevitably cause me to have a massive coronary before the age of 65, I went to Momofuku noodle bar to stuff my face with pork belly and noodles. LOTS of pork belly and noodles.

I’ve longed to go to Momofuku ever since I first read about David Chang and his legendary pork buns on Serious Eats. I’ve recreated some Momofuku and Momofuku Milk Bar recipes at home with varying degrees of success, but knew that I wouldn’t be entirely satisfied until I’d tried the real thing for myself. A quick Internet search revealed that I wouldn’t be able to go to Momofuku Ko unless I had booked six days in advance, and didn’t mind spending a ridiculous amount of money on my tea. However, the noodle bar looked like just the thing to slake my thirst for an authentic bowl of ramen.

Mr. McMc and I rocked up fully anticipating to wait for an hour or more before we could get a table, but as it was we were seated within five minutes of arrival (they must have guessed it was my birthday). We also managed to drink what might possibly be the world’s biggest can of Asahi (one can = two pints. Not too shabby considering the tiny glasses we were given to drink it from).

We started with the legendary pork buns (pictured above). Comprising of a giant slab of pork belly wrapped in a squidgy white bun and garnished with pickled cucumber, these were consumed with almost indecent haste. Porky fat, soft melting meat and the wonderful hit of pickles to cut through the richness – these were heavenly, and I only wish that I’d ordered more of them. (They were so good in fact that Mr. McMc scoffed half of one while I was in the bathroom before I could take a picture of it).

Smoked chicken wings weren’t as smoky as I maybe would have liked, but were still absolutely delicious. Punchy with soy, pickled chillies and garlic, the meat practically disintegrated off the bone at the first bite. These were a perfect example of bar food done well, and were just the thing to soak up a pint or two.

I was slightly unsure of what to expect from the Roasted Rice Cakes I ordered. Being a carb fiend, I just knew that I really wanted to try this typically Korean dish that I’d heard so much about. I need not have worried. A firm crunch of toasted rice gave way to deliciously firm, chewy insides. Smothered in a fiery red sweet-yet-spicy sauce, punchy with ssamjang (a fermented bean and chilli paste) they were like nothing I’d ever eaten before. Indeed, I’m already thinking of where I could visit in Manchester to try them again.

The highlight of the meal was undoubtedly the ramen bowls. I ordered the Momofuku Ramen and Mr McMc ordered the Spicy Miso Ramen. Both were absolutely stunning – my bowl was full of pillow-soft pulled pork, chewy toothsome noodles which were firm and springy to the bite and topped with a perfectly poached egg. I also found the thick, fat slab of pork belly to be a nice touch. I could have drunk the broth like a cup of coffee. It tasted like the absolute essence of pork, rich, fatty and slightly salty. It was a bowl of perfection – the ramen which all other ramen I eat from now on will be judged against. Mr McMc’s ramen was equally good. It tasted of spicy, smoky chicken, as though the world’s best portion of KFC had been liquidised and served up to us.

By this point, we were feeling pretty drunk on good food (as well as that gigantic can of Asahi) but I felt that the whole experience wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t try at least one of their signature desserts. A soft serve scoop of peanut butter and ritz cracker soft serve seemed to be almost too salty at first bite. Then, the pow of salt gave way to a slow, creeping sweetness, helped by the twist of grape jelly (jam) the ice cream had been layered over. It reminded me of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches of my childhood, served up to me in ice cream form.

The total bill for four courses of belly-bursting-goodness came to 90 dollars (roughly 60 pounds in UK money), an absolute bargain considering how much food we ate. While I’m in New York for another four days, I have a feeling that eating at Momofuku Noodle Bar will be one of the highlights of my trip, and something I’ll look back on fondly for years to come. It’s certainly set one hell of a precedent for the rest of my 30s.

Pulled Pork Sandwich with Homemade Sandwich Buns

You’re probably looking at the above image wondering why I have posted a picture of a relatively normal sandwich whose only distinguishing feature is that it resembles a meat-filled PacMan. But looks can be deceptive. And whilst this may not look like much to the naked eye, it is, in fact, possibly the best sandwich I’ve eaten all year. A sandwich so good, that – if I was one of those God fearing types – I’d be offering up a prayer to him thanking him for inventing tasty tasty pigs. For this vision, dear readers, is slow cooked pulled pork piled onto a home made bun. And bugger me, it is pretty bloody amazing.

Read any (good) food blog from the USA, and they will tend to rhapsodise about the beauty of a delicious pile of pulled pork. Juicy, tender and piquant with a baste of vinegar, tomato sauce and brown sugar, it is a taste of the South wrapped up in one delicious messy bite. Most of the time, the pork is barbecued slowly over a smoker, but seeing as it is November, and not exactly barbecue weather here in Bootle, I decided to improvise and give my slow cooker a bit of an airing.

First, I smothered my pork joint in a dry rub and left it overnight. Then, the next morning, I dunked it in a pot and allowed it to stew in its own juices for a few hours. The end result was divine – a nice hunk of pig, braised to breaking point, rich with delicious unctuous fat which was slightly crispy from being sizzled against the hot crock pot.

I would have happily eaten this delicious meat spaghetti on its own, but then I decided that that might be unseemly. Also, apparently it’s not ladylike to eat a big plate of red meat whilst shouting at the TV. So, I threw together some easy home made sandwich buns to accompany my bounty. Warm, squidgey and nicely sweet, these were devoured with almost as much relish as the pork.

This is big, messy, thoroughly filthy food. So leave your manners at the door, don’t be ashamed to lick your fingers clean, and let that juice run down your chin with pride. November’s here. It’s time for some serious soul food.

SLOW COOKED PULLED PORK (Serves four)

You will need:

• 1 kg pork shoulder joint (preferably bone-in – I got mine from Abel and Cole)
• 1-2 teaspoons chilli powder
• 1 1/2 tablespoons cumin
• 1 tablespoon garlic paste
• 1 tablespoon ground black pepper
• 2 tablespoons muscavado sugar
• 1 tablespoon oregano
• 1 tablespoon salt
• 2 1/2 tablespoons smoked paprika
• 1 tablespoon white sugar
• 150ml barbecue sauce (I was lazy and used some stuff out of a bottle that I bought from Florida, but it’s super easy to make your own)

Make It!

1. To make the spice rub: combine all of the spices and the garlic paste in a bowl. Massage the spice rub into the pork, ensuring that you coat each side of the joint thoroughly. Place in a cool place and leave to marinade for at least five hours (I left mine overnight).
2. When you’re ready to cook your joint, place it in your slow cooker with 150ml of water. Cook on the ‘low’ setting for six – seven hours, or until the meat flakes into shreds when you pull it apart with the prongs of a fork.
3. Once the pork is done, transfer it to a chopping board and discard the leftover liquid in the slow cooker and the bone.  Shred the meat finely with a fork,  place it back in the slow cooker and coat it with the barbecue sauce. Heat it on the low setting for ten minutes or so until warm. Pile on top of home made sandwich buns with the toppings of your choice (e.g. a nice slaw).

HOMEMADE SANDWICH BUNS (Makes 8 buns)

Recipe adapted from The Kitchn

You will need:

• 1 tablespoon fast action yeast
• 125ml tepid water
• 125ml semi-skimmed milk
• 1 large egg
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 2 tablespoons white sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 360g bread flour (I used wholemeal as it was the only thing I had in my cupboards)
• 1 tablespoon butter

Make It!

1. Activate the yeast by stirring it into the tepid water and let it sit until it’s dissolved and has become frothy (it should have a good head on it).
2. In a separate bowl, whisk together the milk, egg, oil, sugar, and salt. Add this to the yeast mixture and stir until combined. Add all the flour and stir until it forms a shaggy dough. Knead for 10 minutes until the dough feels smooth, slightly sticky, and springs back when poked.
3. Return the dough to the mixing bowl and cover. Let the dough rise in a warm spot  for around an hour until it has doubled in size.
4. Dust your work surface with a little flour and turn out the risen dough on top. Divide the dough into 8 pieces and shape each into a ball which is roughly the size of your fist. Transfer the balls to an oiled baking sheet and let rise for around 30-40 minutes until they look puffy and hamburger-sized.
5. Pre-heat the oven to Gas Mark 6/200 degrees C. Melt the butter and brush it over the risen buns. This helps them to brown and keeps the crust soft. Bake the rolls for around 15-18 minutes until they have turned puffy and golden.
6. Let the buns cool to room temperature before slicing and using.

Pork, Potatoes and Pilsner – Adventures in Prague

As you may have gathered from the dearth of posts on here, I’ve been rather busy recently – who knew that trying to hold down a full time job, a freelance career and a personal life whilst studying for a digital marketing qualification could take up so much time?  The past fortnight has seen me pretty much living out of a suitcase, and being forced to buy clean knickers from Tescos because I had no time to go home and fetch a fresh pair. I’m scared I’m going to become one of these women who carries emergency underwear in her handbag, next to the lipbalm and the loose change.

So, finally, last Friday I decided I’d had enough. It was time for me to leave these shores and head to pastures new for a few days. Those pastures new being Prague, land of churches, cheap pork products and a strange foodstuff known as “beer cheese” (the promise of beer cheese alone was enough of an incentive for me to be honest). The holiday didn’t really get off to the best start when we were faced with a seven hour delay after one of the engines of our plane set on fire whilst we were on the runway. However, when faced with such a setback, I turned to the one thing which I know for a fact will bring me succour in times of woe. Namely, booze.

Some would say that 7.30am is too early in the morning for Breakfast Martinis. I am not one of those people. Especially when aforementioned Martini comes with a (frankly ridiculous) slab of cold toast shoved onto the side of it.

By the time we got to Prague, both myself and Mr. Cay wanted to do nothing more than go to the pub. Which we duly did. This decision was justified when we discovered that beer in the Czech Republic is both cheap (an average pint will cost you around £1.20) and delicious, and that you could smoke in pubs. Which led to us both getting rather tanked, smoking like priests and eating pizza in bed. A very fine way to start a holiday by anyone’s standards really.

Being sensible and ridiculously gluttinous types, we decided to spend our holiday eating, drinking and looking at beautiful (and occasionally strange) buildings. Here’s some of the highlights:

WHAM, BAM, THANK YOU HAM

On our first day there, we decided to go exploring, and upon entering the Old Town Square, our nostrils were immediately assailed by the delicious smell of roast meat. I’m a sucker for any time of pork product, so I couldn’t really turn down the opportunity to feast on some authentic Prague ham, served up with rye bread and plenty of mustard.

It might possibly be the best ham I’ve ever eaten – juicy, smoky and with a delicious layer of crackling which we crunched between our teeth whilst watching a Czech television personality sing traditional folk tunes. It was so good, that I’ll even forgive the bloke who sold it to me for ripping me off after I handed him the wrong bank note.

It transpired that the ham man was there as part of International Chefs Day. Which meant that it would have been rude not to try some of the dishes being served up, like this amazing homemade lamb sausage from Apartmán hotel Jítrava . Served with garlic spiked mashed potatoes and an apple relish, it was just the thing to keep out the chill of a rainy October afternoon.

BEEF AND BREAD

The evening saw us dining at U Pinkasu, a cute – if slightly touristy – restaurant situated in Jungmannovo Namesti. U Pinkasu specialises in traditional Czech cuisine which, it transpired, is exceedingly heavy on the whole ‘meats and carbs’ side of things. Seemingly every dish on the menu appeared to contain ‘bread dumplings’ (which weren’t so much dumplings as very soft, doughy slabs of white bread), potatoes or (frequently) both. This is not the kind of food you want to be eating if you’re on the Atkins diet. Full marks must also go to our waitress – a woman who could not only carry five steins of beer in each hand, but who also appeared to speak four different languages (whilst we were there, we heard her speak to diners in Czech, Italian, English and Russian), and the section of the menu which was entitled ‘For Gourmets and Feeders’.

Beef goulash with bread dumplings and horseradish

Old Bohemian Beef in Cream Sauce with Cranberries and Bread Dumplings (apologies for the poor pictures, beer had been consumed at this point).

STUPIDEST THING I ATE

The award for ‘most outrageously stupid thing I ate on my holidays’ undoubtedly has to go to this heart attack on a plate -a deep fried potato pancake filled with pork & chicken, and covered in cheese. For some bizarre reason, I decided to order this for my lunch. In my defence, I think I might have been slightly under the influence of strong drink at the time. It would be wrong to say that this wasn’t delicious, but it was also absolutely bloody enormous. I ate about half of it before I gave up, and spent the rest of the afternoon lying on the bed in my hotel, rubbing my distended belly, and feeling like a boa constrictor who has just consumed a large deer.

You would think that after that little incident, I would have learned my lesson. No. No I didn’t. On our final day, prior to boarding a flight back to the UK, I had these potato dumplings filled with smoked meat and fried onions on a bed of cabbage. Undoubtedly tasty, but not the kind of thing you want to be eating when you have to be wide awake and drag a heavy suitcase across a city full of cobbles. They also gave me a raging heartburn that took me a good 24 hours to eradicate.

JEWISH FOOD AT KING SOLOMON’S

On our final night in the city, we decided to treat ourselves, and dine at King Solomon’s in the Jewish Quarter, allegedly the oldest  Jewish restaurant in the Czech Republic. The meal wasn’t perfect – they don’t serve wines by the glass, the restaurant was dreadfully quiet and one of the waiters appeared to having an argument with one of his colleagues about the music on a Jewish radio station which was being played in the background – but the food was excellent, and there’s always something quite lovely about an intimate  candlelit dinner. The standout highlight of the meal for me was their chicken soup with herb knedlich. I always thought that my Bubbie made the best chicken soup in the world, but sorry Bubbie – you’ve got competition.

Goulash with Matzo and herbed dumplings

Veal with bread dumplings (which, slightly bizarrely, came with a large squirt of whipped cream on the side of the plate)

We washed this all down with complementary shots of slivovitz, a potent plum brandy that you’ll find being served up at restaurants and bars across the Czech Republic. We would have had dessert, if it wasn’t for the fact we’d consumed this bad boy earlier that day.

Baileys Chocolate Mousse cake, aka three layers of chocolatey-dessert-joy. This was sinfully, indecently good. Especially when coupled with a strong espresso.

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE BOOZE?

Ah yes. The booze. Czech beer is possibly some of the finest beer I’ve ever tasted. Crisp, refreshing and punchy with hops, it’s a million miles away from the bland swill you so often find in British pubs. There’s a seemingly giddy array of Czech breweries, with Pilsner Uruquell being the most common. A lot of pubs also served Kozel, a dark beer, that looked like ale, but had a surprisingly light, almost fruity taste to it.

I also – in a fit of post dinner madness one night – indulged in a shot of the local spirit, Becherovka. It’s pretty interesting stuff, with a taste that’s a cross between floor cleaner and cinnamon tictacs, and a kick like a donkey. The lemon version is slightly tastier, but it’s definitely not something I’d advise you to try if your preferred tipple is Malibu. For reasons I’m still not entirely clear of, I bought a bottle to take home with me which is now taking pride of place in my drinks cabinet. I’m thinking of making cocktails with it. Does anyone know what mixes well with alcoholic Dettol?

SO, THAT WAS PRAGUE

After five days of Central European bliss, me and Mr. Cay  finally returned to Liverpool on Wednesday pickled in alcohol, marinaded in pork fat and – very probably – two stone heavier. It was worth it though. We’re already fantasising about where our next adventure is going to take us. But for now, back to the real world. Thanks Prague. You’re really something.