World to Table

Emily, Jeff and Youngsun

It’s almost been two years since I first moved to Queens, but I find that there is still so much to see and explore. Since most of my friends either live in Brooklyn or Manhattan, I’m usually biking across the Pulaski Bridge into Brooklyn or hopping on the subway to Manhattan; I really haven’t had much of a chance to explore my own borough. But this all changed when I began to prepare and plan for Asian Feastival. In the past few months, I’ve spent more time in Queens than ever before. As a result, I’ve gotten a chance to know more Queens people and Queens places, and I really love it.

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Gamelan rehearsal in action

The Javanese Gamelan group Kusuma Laras holds rehearsals at the Indonesian Consulate twice a week on Mondays and Wednesdays. Beginning at 5:30, members trickle into the basement of the Consulate, each taking their respective place in front of the majestic bronze instruments, sitting shoe-less and cross-legged while rhythmically beating to the numbered musical notations. An hour and a half later, a cooker of rice and tupperwares filled with aromatic Indonesian home cooking are placed on the table buffet-style, indicating that dinner has commenced.

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Shanghainese soup dumplings are a culinary phenomenon: a bite of pork and a spoonful of soup all within a neatly pleated wheat wrapper. You’re probably curious: how does the soup get in there? Over the years, I’ve come up with a fair share of outlandish theories – at one point I was convinced the dumplings were injected with a soup-filled syringe. But all my conspiracy theories were finally laid to rest two weeks ago when the high priestess of Nan Xiang Dumpling House, Chef Huang Jian Ping (黃建萍), came over to make soup dumplings from scratch. In anticipation for Asian Feastival, an epic culinary event in Queens on September 6th (check out asianfeastival.com for the complete rundown), we decided to test her off-site dumpling-making capabilities and invited some friends over to witness her pork and dough sorcery.

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Every morning you can find my mom upstairs, tending to our rooftop garden, fully equipped with garden gloves, a wide brimmed hat and a hose in hand. They say Mom knows best, so here she is, doling out gardening advice and talking about rooftop plant sex. -Veronica

Season One

To our delight, the rooftop garden last year was a meeting place for buzzing bees, fluttering butterflies, vocal songbirds and, ahem, migrant workers – a colony of mail-order ladybugs that worked for food and board. Since we’re in a mid-rise building in Long Island City with plenty of sun, seasoned gardening experts assured us that bees and butterflies can still grace our plants. The bountiful abundance of vegetables — beans, tomatoes, peas, zucchinis, cucumbers, radish, lettuce, eggplants, pepper, green onion and a host of other experimental fruits and herbs — throughout May to October last year pretty much exceeded our expectations. We had enough not just to indulge in “flower pot to cooking pot” dining, but also to share with others. Our little baskets of fresh-cut garden produce became a great diplomatic gesture to reach out to our new neighbors in the community.

Peas, lettuce, tomatoes, bitter gourd

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It’s been a long way since my freshman year in college, when skipping out on greasy cafeteria grilled cheese to indulge in restaurant brunch was a regular occurrence. Since then, I’ve wised up on my spending habits, and sadly, this has meant goodbye to the weekend brunch, for the most part. But there are times that I’ll make an exception to the rule — for a very worthy meal. Last Saturday, Talisa, my first friend in college and a current Greenpoint, Brooklyn resident, asked if I wanted to go to brunch in her hood hosted by the Plates & Records supper club. After looking at the menu, I didn’t need much convincing to say yes.

Menu:
*Kimchi Omelette
*Brioche French Toast with Maple Syrup, Berries and Bacon
*Savory Tart with Caramelized Onions, Gruyere, and Roasted Tomatoes
*Wild Blueberry Scones with Clotted Cream and an Assortment of Jams
*Tea & Coffee with Buttermilk Rusks

Plates & Records is a nomadic and themed supper club organized by Joann, Ram and Andrzej, a writer, a human rights lawyer and an artist respectively. To attend, all you need is a plate, a record, an empty stomach, and an Andrew Jackson ($20). The original P&R trifecta includes Andrzej, but in his place at the stove that morning was their friend Georgie.

Joann and Ram

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Traditionally, Indonesian fried rice, or Nasi Goreng, consists of pre-cooked rice stir-fried with prawn, eggs, tamarind, chili, and coriander. But there are an infinite number of variations to be made by simply adding a dollop of WORLDFOODS Indonesian Fried Rice ‘Nasi Goreng’ Paste, a concentrated medley of herbs and spices that I often throw into the pan with my leftover rice and whatever I have lingering in my kitchen drawers.

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One late December night, I was in New York at Rolf’s sharing a beer and schnitzel with Lee Anne under the hypnotic glow of the festive holiday lights. Between bites, I mentioned that Kelly and I were going to Japan, and immediately Lee Anne’s face lit up. She whipped out her phone and excitedly flipped through a slide show of photos. “You must meet Shinji. He will tell you where to go,” she asserted.

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Some people stuff turkeys. Others stuff peppers. Annie stuffs baby suckling pigs with 8 treasure rice. One of the most passionate people I know when it comes to cooking, Annie Leong is a cookbook author, avid home cook and a close friend to the Lin sisters (three sisters who are practically my aunts). What sets Annie apart is her dedication to create the PERFECT recipe — multiple baby pigs were sacrificed for the perfection of this dish, but trust me, they died for a worthy cause. Behold my encounter with the “Roast Suckling Pig Extraordinaire”!

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A few weeks ago, while I waited for Robyn and LeeAnne to arrive at the Underground Lobster Pound in Brooklyn (more informally known as Ben‘s apartment) Ben and I got to talking about food bloggers. More specifically, Ben asked me why an overwhelming majority of food bloggers are: A. Asian and B. Female. Before I could give him an adequate answer, I had to think about it long and hard. Fitting both those categories, I have often thought to myself, why do I love food so much?

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Balut, an Asian delicacy popular in the Philippines, is a fertilized egg with a nearly-developed embryo inside that is boiled and eaten in the shell. It is traditionally made with duck eggs, but balut also comes in the chicken variety. While I have an undeniable love for eggs — fried, boiled, scrambled, cooked any and every way, I had never considered eating an embryo until my Filipino friend Louie sang praises about balut. The idea of slurping a duck fetus straight from its shell both intrigued and frightened me. Sadly, during my summer in Asia, I never got to try any balut. But all of was not lost. My chance arrived two years later, in an email from Chef King of umi NOM. I clicked open the email and read:

“Duck Balut tonight @ umi nom!!!”

And just like that, I was headed to Brooklyn.

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