SJ here. New York for all of its size and population often seems like the smallest of small towns. You live here for enough time and you develop a personal circumference — where you walk, where you eat, where you live. And, if you are like me, you get to know that personal space down to its grittiest details. You learn the smells, the people, the graffiti, the cracks in the sidewalk, the empty lot that sprouts wild sorrell and the ancient Chinese woman who shuffles along with 400 crushed cans of Malt Liquor on her back. You mark this space like a lion on the Savannah by infusing it all with your personal mythology, your stories, your emotions — you superimpose a map of your own interior over the narrow map of the city that you know the best.
This is why I love Flushing. It is the opposite of my personal New York. It is a place still marked with mystery and discovery for me and like some big game hunter, it makes my forays to Flushing seeking food feel like an adventure. Well, last night I scored the Big Buck, the Big Kill when I went to Sol Hyang Lee, a noted Northern Chinese – Korean hybrid restaurant owned by ethnic Koreans who were raised in China on the borderlands between the two countries and whom speak both languages. I was tipped off to the spot by the excellent food blog apps like feeld.
Sol Hyang Lee specializes in BBQ skewers cooked at the table over real charcoal (a sad rarity in these new gas and electric dominated times). We ordered Mutton, Chicken and Lamb Chunk Skewers from a menu that ranged to such esoterica as pork heart and bull penis. They come 10 to an order (except for the Lamb Chunk which is cooked in the kitchen and comes two to an order but with bigger pieces). The meat is tender, well seasoned and redolent of smoke. It is served with a spice blend made up of peanut powder, cumin seed, chili powder, salt and sesame seeds. You roll your meat in the powder and eat it right up! Cumin and smoke are a beautiful combination, each complimenting the other, egging their unique properties onto higher levels. We also ordered a brace of boiled dumplings (nothing amazing, but hearty and and unstructured in a very home-made, authentic way), pitchers of cold beer, water spinach in garlic sauce and a killer dish of tiny squids served whole on a bed of dried chili pods, cilantro and garlic scapes.
The waitress, who was super nice and friendly, but none too adept in English, gave us a complimentary pickled cucumber dish which snapped with heat and bits of tofu skin and rubbery, clear noodles. There was also Ban Chan (the traditional small dishes served at all Korean restaurants). This was a totally unique meal with unexpected flavours (the cumin/peanut poweder will haunt my brain for a few weeks) and the joy of discovery. Everything I had was top notch and prepared with joy and love and I can’t wait to get back and try some deeper menu items including some of their offal choices and a quail dish that people seemd to be noshing on with much joy.
