Archive for the ‘asian’ Category

Winter is well and truly upon us, and oh! how the days grow short and the nights cold. And on such days (which are destined to continue for at least the next couple of months) the thought of trudging home to cook up a meal after a long day and a stinkin’ bus trip does not hold quite the same appeal as it did back in Summer. The upside? Winter comfort food, and quick qinter comfort food at that. Don’t reach for the phone and call for take out noodles, because in 25 or so minutes (15 if you have an assistant handy), you can be plated and ready for a quick, tasty and nutritionally balanced(ish) dinner in front of whatever you deem worthy of watching.

We are not very hungry. Actually, that’s an understatement. We are, in fact, quite full. It has been a long day of long, large lunches and yet here we are, Friday Dinner Club, debating about where we should go for dinner. The original question was an if, but this idea has been quickly quashed. “You don’t want to get to 10pm and be hungry right?” I say to Miss Shiny. She nods in a vague semblance of agreement. “And maybe we can get something light? Try something different?” I continue. She looks at Mak. “I guess dinner is on then.” …continue reading peking vip restaurant

Back when I was still at uni (I say that like it was so long ago) there was this place that I used to eat at sometimes. And by sometimes I mean five to six times a week. Up to twice a day. That place was the Chinese Noodle Restaurant on Quay St in Haymarket. I ate there so much, that the waitresses would ever-so-subtly gesture at me on arrival and usher me straight in, disregarding the throng of people who were waiting outside. And now that I am in the city, all corporate and suit wearing, and unable to dash across the intersection and through the Prince Centre for my daily dumpling & noodle fix, I miss them. Not so badly sometimes, and horribly at others.

Desparation for a fried dumpling lunch had led me to the internet. And the internet led me here. Just a short walk from the office, Sea Bay Restaurant sits a little way along Pitt Street, opposite World Square. Now, the dumplings aren’t the delicate little creatures you will find inside World Square, at Din Tai Fung, but rather the thick and chunky, standardly meaty dumplings that you’ll normally find in Chinatown. The location means you’ll pay a couple of dollars extra per dish, but, as they say, time is money and lunch hours are short.

tea & chilli for two

I’ve eaten here twice this week. Yes, twice. Once with a friendly dumpling fiend from uni (ahh! the good old days!) and once with Billy on one of his many sojurns to Sydney town. I find the service here quite standard, though the smiley faced older gentleman (maybe owner?) is only around at lunchtimes. Tea will be brought to your table automatically. Don’t worry about this. There’s no charge. (“No charge?!” I hear you exclaim. That’s right. No. Charge. “Yay!” cheers the crowd.) There is also no charge for the miasmic chilli in oil mix that lands alongside. (I will warn you, the chilli isn’t hot at first brush. But the heat builds. Slowly. And suddenly, you will have a drippy nose and a propensity for laughing. Not good on dates. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Also, don’t say I don’t care. I do. Dearly.)

fried dumplings (pork & chive) $9.00

Moving on, did someone say dumplings? Shortly after ordering, 12 plump, crescent shaped, burnish bottomed dumplings landed on our table. They were not as oily as others I have had, and wonderfully plump and tasty. The chives really did their work (I couldn’t speak to people later without having awkward “dumpling breath” moments – easily fixed with gum, and lots of it) and the pork was tender and moist.

steamed meat filled buns $9.00

Ten steamed “xiao long bao” arrive in a double deckered steamer basket. They are piping hot and taste wonderful with the soy/vinegar/chilli mix that I’ve concocted over the years. Now, before we all throw our hands up in the air and say “But they’re not xiao long bao! What about the soup? Anyway, they can’t be better than…” I’m going to exposit a little theory, namely, I’ve decided that xiao long bao at a northern chinese style restaurant are never going to be the same as xiao long bao from a central to southern chinese style restaurant. Northern chinese buns are always bigger, doughier and meatier. They’re made for hunters and people who spend their lives in freezing conditions with little more than some baijiu to keep them going. In central and southern China, however, there is warmth. And fertile soil. And far fewer crazy border crossers ready to attack your yaks and pillage your villages. So the buns are smaller, daintier, more beautiful. Fit for royalty. Case in point, Shanghai Nights. Shanghai. South.

dumplings all gone

The point being that there is validity to both styles. And that a dumpling made in one style shouldn’t be trashed (for want of a better term) for its likeness to the other. My other point is that these buns were good. And, unsophisticated as they were, I liked ‘em.

pork pastries $9.00

My other, other point (how many points have I had so far? I don’t normally rant like this. Truly. But it’s been getting my goat of late and… I’ll stop now. I think this is point three) is that no way those lovely sophisticated central & southerners would have come up with anything like this. No. WAY.

pork pastry innards

Imagine you have made yourself a giant dumpling. It’s filled with mince, and chives, and other assorted, undiscernable goodies. And it is beautiful. Now instead of steaming it, you fry it. And instead of just frying it, you also squish it. And then fry the other side. Oh my word! De-lish. This was, truly, the highlight of my double visit. I would exclaim at the pastry “Oh! It’s so crunchy, and golden! Yummm” and then at the insides “It tastes different to the dumplings. And so moist!” and then at the pastry again, and then at the filling again, and Billy would refill his tea and nod at me. Then he would take photos of the food. And I would revert back to normal conversation.

jellyfish salad $9.80

That flash of green you have been seeing in the back of some of the photographs is not, as some might have guessed, dumplings that have grown mould in the time it has taken me to tell this story. It is, thankfully, a jellyfish salad. Now jellyfish salad, as a rule, is garlicky. So garlicky, in fact, that it usually verges on spicy. It also is a no-go when on a first date. Also when you have to go to that class with that cute boy immediately after lunch. I learnt that one the hard way. This salad is lovely with enough dressing to tenderise the crisp shredded cabbage. The jellyfish is not as crunchy as I am used to, its texture more remeniscent of a slightly chewier konjaku jelly, but I enjoy it nonetheless. The cucumber is an especially appreciated addition in light of the over-chilli-fication that I suffered. (See earlier note).

fried handmade noodles (beef) $11.80

The handmade noodles are flavoursome. Period. The tomato has absorbed all of the flavour from the wok and is absolutely the most delicious bit of cooked tomato I’ve ever eaten. (I’m maybe exaggerating. It was good though). The noodles themselves are wonderfully toothsome, though have sadly been cut short. I like a long noodle. (Get your minds out of the gutter people. I talk food. FOOD!) And the beef is lovely and tender and flavoursome.

almost. full. must eat more.

All in all, two unregrettable meals. Would I go again? I already did. And when you’re in the city and can’t possibly make it to Chinatown, this is a really great alternative. It’s also very clean and spaced out, so you aren’t playing elbow battles with the unknowns next to you. Yes, it is noisy when the crowd hits, and you may not be able to get a table straight away everytime. And yes, it is a little awkward waiting outside because on one side there is a seedy laneway, and on the other lies Eric’s Adult Bookshop. But I am fond of a northern Chinese dumpling. And I’ll likely be back soon.

Sea Bay Restaurant
372 Pitt St
Sydney 2000 NSW
Phone: (02) 9267 4855

I have a soft spot for egg tarts. Something about the warm, eggy custard and the flaky buttery pastry just gets me (I am, as previously mentioned, a flaky egg tart person as opposed to a sweet pastry egg tart person). And the promise of a freshly baked, flaky, warm, eggy egg tart has been the drawcard of many a yum cha for me. It is hard getting to yum cha though. And not always worth the hassle & wait when all one wants is a bit of this and one of that.

My mother discovered Ho’s Kitchen down Pitt St. And by “discovered”, I mean got speaking to other asian mothers who love to eat (don’t all asian mothers?) and was told about the frozen dumplings “So convenient – just boil and then you can have a quick lunch!” and the freshly made baked goods.

six pack of fresh pork buns

Since then, we’ve made numerous trips, walking down from Market St “It’s only one more block mum. Promise. Come on!” “One more block?! You one more blocked three blocks ago! I’ll one more block you!” and more recently, especially after that exchange, driven down and popped out of the car to pick up goodies “Should we get chicken? I think we should get chicken” whilst dad waited patiently for us (and his treats) to return.

happy hot foods cabinet

My personal favourites? Well, let’s see.

Well, clearly, there’s the egg tarts. And at the grand price of $1.00 each, you’ll be ordering six and scoffing them all before they make it home (though I don’t recommend this. You will almost definitely feel not-so-good afterwards).

Then there’s the char-siu-so. A melange of red porky goodness ensconsed in a flaky triangle of pastry. Sweet, and not savoury as you may originally imagine. When we first started our adventures at Ho’s (which sounds more like a low-grade movie than it actually is), these were always (always) on the menu. And then we had to think of our cholesterol. And then one week the flaky pastry was a little crushed. And then we found other exciting things. They are good though, and I’d recommend you try them.

ham sui gok / combination dumpling $1.00

The ham-sui-gok (combination dumpling) is a football shaped, deep fried dumpling-thing filled with a moist mix of crunchy veges, mushrooms and pork mince. This is what we traded the char-siu-so in for, and now pick up one (or three) every time.

char siu bun $1.50

Also in the honourable mentions is the char-siu bun. Soft, fresh and fluffy with a crunchy butter-and-sugar hat. Ahhhhhh!

frozen foods menu (part one)

For the more traditional (and also for those who don’t cook) there are fresh and frozen char-siu bao (steamed pork buns) that just need a quick whiz in the microwave for a delicious and speedy lunchable. There’s also three (count’em – three!) different freezer cabinets filled with frozen siu mai (not bad), as well as (personal favourite) the six treasures vegetarian mix (bung in a pot, add a little bit of water and heat gently), nyow-lam or braised beef (ditto) and dumplings of assorted shapes and fillings that you can buy frozen by the 50-pack. Even easier to manage the pre-cooked cold chicken boxes (the one with chilli oil is a fantastic buy). Add rice and eat.

one more egg tart shot – indulge me

I’m still eating my way through so haven’t yet tried the mango pudding (though I’ve seen it sell like hot cakes) or the biscuits and lotus fileld moon cakes that sit in the shelf next to the freezers. But I will get to them soon, and when I do, you’ll hear about it.

Ho’s Dimsim Kitchen
429A Pitt Street
Sydney 2000
Phone: (02) 9281 2725

I know. Chinese New Year ended a fortnight ago. But there was so much eating done, and so little time in which to record it. Like this meal, for example. A last minute affair, courtesy of 1x newborn baby in a hospital in Parramatta (not mine), the family being in a car to visit said baby, and a sign on the side of a building that said “Peking Duck”. Also, we conjectured later, it was the last day of Chinese New Year the next day, and we should probably celebrate somehow. We are very good at making up excuses when it comes to eating. Truly, we are.

It was with these plentiful excuses in our heads (and the promise of Peking Duck, and maybe even some crab) that we ventured into Carlingford Court on a quiet Sunday evening. We were greeted, promisingly, by a happy waiter (do I love me a happy waiter or what?) and plates of biscuits all laid out and ready for bill time. We were led, even more promisingly, to a table bigger than was necessary for us, away from the other diners (who were spread out across the restaurant) and (bonus!) one with good lighting. Complementary peanuts were served, and we began to peruse the menus.

the elements – awaiting assembly

I should warn you now, everything has a catch. That lovely sign, promising two courses of Peking Duck for $18.80 is the real deal. But for said real deal to apply, you also have to order three other dishes at full price. Ditto the fish special, and the crab special. Having already eaten half the peanuts at the time this was explained to us, and not wishing to move in any case, we settled instead for the banquet for four at a total cost of $98.80. (I’m pre-empting myself here, but should note that takeaway containers are $0.50 each. Ditto freshly cut chilli).

Many people order the banquet, explained the friendly waiter, because it is good value. Also, all the dishes on it are what would be ordered anyway.

the duck being carved

We started with the Peking Duck. Seeing I had a camera, the friendly waiter offered to carve the duck at the table (so I could get a better shot) rather than on the trolley (where it was usually carved). He was so obliging, even pausing at one stage to check that he wasn’t getting in the way of my pictures. Nice man.

peking duck pancake

The duck itself was lovely and crisp skinned. The pancakes were warm to the touch and not too soft, nor too floury. Yum.

1x duck – post chopping

Once the skin had been removed, the carcass was taken back to the kitchen, chopped up and brought again to the table for us to pick at. I’m used to having the meat separated from the bone and served up with fried noodles or similar so found this an interesting version of the “two dish” theme. It was not, however, a bad version as it meant that lunch the next day was super easy to throw together.

crab with tung-hoon; pre-stirring

Next up, the crab in hot pot with tung-hoon and XO sauce. *pause* My MY this was good! A clay vessel was presented containing nothing, it seemed at first, but noodle. And then we stirred. And then we cheered!

crab with tung-hoon; post-stirring!

I’m not normally a fan of blue swimmer crab (too fiddly, watery meat, brittle shell) but this one was a treat. Plump and meaty, with the flesh pulling away easily from the shell. The tung-hoon (a thick, translucent noodle made from beans) had soaked up all of the flavour from the crab and the XO sauce and was absolutely delicious. I have to say, this was the highlight of my night. Baby excluded of course.

crisp skin chicken with salt

The excess was followed by some stock standards. Crispy skin chicken with spicy salt was tender and succulent (even the breast meat). It’s so nice to see a simple dish well done. It also featured a whole chicken. Now, my family does not finish a whole chicken between us on a good day, so at this point, we decided that the chicken would most likely end up coming home with us.

bok choy

The veges, however, we scoffed down at the table. Sweet and simple, the bok choy was the perfect foil to the other, oilier, dishes. Though the slick you see on the surface of the vegetable kinda hints at it’s potentially-less-than-healthy cooking method.
And we were done. Or so we thought.

As we packed the remains up into takeaway containers (half a duck, most of a chicken), I spotted a table being served bowls of something, scooped from a pot behind the counter. “Please please please red bean soup” I muttered to myself. And it was to be! *hooray!*

free bikkies!

Complementary biscuits (one buttery and coconutty, the other crunchy and covered in sesame seeds) were brought to the table. One each and a couple spare.

oranges on ice

Then the oranges, served on a bed of freshly shaved ice.

hooray! red bean soup!

And finally, hot, citrussy, sweet and satisfying, red bean soup. *Ahhhhhhhhh*

So home we trudged. Takeaways in hand, mental notes made. Next time, for there will be a next time, the Peking Duck will make a comeback. As will the crab. The chicken will become a fish (for two birds in one meal is too much bird) and the red bean soup will be eagerly sought after.

King Crab Village Seafood Restaurant
Shop 19G, 372 Pennant Hills Road
Carlingford
ph 02 9872 9255

Opening Hours: 7 days 11am-3pm & 5pm-11pm