HUNGRY GERALD

HG has had a long standing love affair with Manhattan’s Chinatown. It all began when eight-year-old HG and his beloved older sister, the late Beulah Naomi K., would climb the steep steps at Fordham Road in The Bronx and ride the scenic 3rd Avenue Elevated train (fare — 5 cents) all the way to Chatham Square in Chinatown. Little HG was fascinated. The strange language. The exotic (to little HG’s eyes) people. The vast variety of food being sold in shops, outdoor stalls and by itinerant vendors. And, the restaurants. Ducks hanging in the windows. Fish swimming in tanks. Barbecue experts slicing pork. At first, HG and sister were timid eaters — won ton soup, chicken chow mein, almond cookies for dessert. Ridiculously cheap, of course — 20-25 cents. But, the two fledgling gourmands quickly became more adventurous. Shrimp in lobster sauce. Roast pork over rice. Moo Goo Gai Pan and much much more. In his late 20s (some 56 years ago!) HG discovered dim sum. Nom Wah on Doyers Street was the only dim sum restaurant in Chinatown (now there are scores). HG became an addict and every Sunday morning devoured Nom Wah dim sum while reading the hefty Sunday edition of The New York Times. (Blessedly, Nom Wah has been revived by a new generation of the original owners and they have maintained the wonderful charms of the original decor while giving the place a much needed spruce up.The dim sum are as good as ever). HG realizes that Flushing (and maybe even Brooklyn’s Sunset Park) have replaced Chinatown as the great centers of New York Chinese cuisine. HG and BSK have rented a Chinatown apartment for one week this December and there will be a thorough exploration of the current Chinatown food scene. HG relies upon three Chinatown culinary guides: SJ, David Sietsma of the Village Voice and the blog, lauhound.com. HG remembers when Chinatown only had Cantonese cuisine. Now there are many restaurants featuring regional cooking — Chiu chow, Fujianese, Szechuan, etc. Dumpling and noodle restaurants (many strictly hole-in-the wall) have proliferated. There are many Vietnamese restaurants, including an HG favorite, Nam Son. Chinatown has expanded into the Lower East Side and Little Italy. Mission Chinese, an adventurous California/Chinese venture, has a pastrami dish on its menu. Does this represent a challenge to Katz’s?

SJ here.  As a dedicated hunter of all sorts of obscure, ethnic food treats, you learn to read the signs — the tells — of a great culinary experience: a line of taxicabs in front of Pakistani take-out, absolute unfamiliarity in English, a certain grittiness mixed with equal parts pride…the list goes on and I was fairly certain my ability to read those signs was infallible.  Well, pride is a bitch.  What comes up must go down, and so shall I share with you a cautionary tale of When Bad Food Happens To Good Food Hunters:

She had it all.  No English.  A mouth full of metal.  Enthusiasm. A kitchen made up of various coolers and snap lid trays hauled around in a red shopping cart.  I had noticed her for a week dishing out food for the Central American workers in the Chinese owned glass and vegetable wholesalers that line Broome Street.  I finally decided to make my move and pick up whatever it was she was dishing out.  She was thrilled.  With what little Spanish I possess I came to understand that she had a chicken stew, with a kind of bean soup and a side of mashed eggplant; and a dish of baccala which did not look appetizing.  Sure!  I thought.  $5 for this awesome meal served out of coolers in between glass cutting machines and a smiling Guatemalan wearing an shirt covered in hand drawn pentagrams and the names of Nordic Black Metal bands — AWESOME!  As she dished out the food, I had dreams of writing posts in Chowhound about the brilliance of the meal and how those posts would cause food lovers to wait on line for this incredible street food experience and how one day my hero Robert Sietsema would feast on her chicken and then search me out to thank me for this incredible culinary find and how then we would become best friends and go to Flushing and eat banquets of dumplings together and…..and….and then I tasted my meal.

If it were disgusting, wretched, horrific even — I would have been happier!  It would have been an experience I could boast about and say: Remember that time I had that crazy Central American special chicken that tasted of tires and old socks?  Unfortunately the Broome Street chicken was just not good in the most boring way.  The chicken was very dry and over-cooked.  The stew itself had no strong flavors.  The eggplant thing tasted of baby food and the bean soupy thing had no zing, no nothing!!!!  For all its gritty surroundings and strong, ethnic profile, the meal was as bland as something served up in a hospital. My secret, ethnic food vending lady turned out to be a Midwestern housewife in disguise.

The signs had proved wrong.  My arrogance was shattered.  My friendship with Robert Sietsema never happened.  It will take me some time to recover. Thanks Broome Street Chicken!

Thank God for Flushing. In that noble Queens neighborhood, cheap rents in the warrens of underground food courts and back alleys allow purveyors of obscure, Chinese regional cuisine the chance to thrive. And if they do in fact thrive the next step is to take their goods to Manhattan’s Chinatown.

Thus, Flushing’s Henan Feng Wei — lauded by heroic restaurant critic Robert Sietsema — recently opened an outpost at 68 Forsyth St named He Nan Flavor. Again, thank you Flushing!

Henan is a northwest province in China and He Nan Flavor celebrates the food found in the night markets of Zhengzhou, the capital city. Forget about typical Cantonese fare, this is a bold stuff that reflects Henan’s Middle Eastern and Sichuan influences.

The first dish I tried was the “Pancake with Pork” which just that — a crispy, griddled hot-cake dotted with sesame seeds and stuffed with anise tinged minced pork and cilantro. Not a bad treat for $2!

Next up was a dish called “Spicy Chicken Hui Mei” which was just remarkable. A huge bowl filled with hand pulled, chewy, wide noodles covered with stewed chicken. These noodles come lathered in a sauce of red chili oil, Sichuan peppercorns, tiger lily bulbs and cumin seeds. It was a taste explosion. While the chili oil added a satisfying burn, the Sichuan peppercorns have a narcotic, numbing effect and great flavor — but it is the earthiness of the cumin seeds layered against those pleasantly chewy noodles and stewed chicken that makes the dish something to dream about on a cold, winter day.

On further visits, I tried the Lamb with Lo Mein Soup — which was those same amazing noodles in a milky broth redolent of lamb and an under tone of anise. Powerfully addictive. I also tried their boiled dumplings which come 15 to an order!!!! No dish here tops out over $6 and it is a generally clean and cheerful place with attentive owners who have a real pride and seem genuinely happy that you have decided to dine with them. On the wall there is a photo of a dish called “Big Tray of Chicken” — I will be back!