I’ve tried really hard to not order pork every single time I go here but it’s impossible. The Momofuku steamed pork buns might just be my favorite dish New York City has to offer, and the new addition of the BBQ rib sandwich? Are you kidding me? This thing is unbelievable! So there you go, two pork appetizers before we even get into the mains. Bottom line is, if you’re going to the Ssäm bar, you’re hanging out with Johnny McEnroe, drinking OB’s by the bottle (the only reasonably priced beer at five dollars – the Coors Light of South Korea) and eating a serious amount of pig. If you really want to take your pig consumption to the next level and are rolling deep, you can call ahead and have them prepare the $200 Bo Ssäm that easily feeds ten. It’s a whole butt served with a dozen oysters over kimichi, rice, and bibb lettuce. New Yorkers aren’t stupid. We wouldn’t voluntarily wait 45 minutes to an hour at David Chang’s Momofuku restaurants if the food wasn’t ridiculously amazing. Believe the hype, it’s worth the calories. The haters are just jealous.
Much has been said, on this site and every other media outlet in New York City, about David Chang and his “Momofuku Empire”. While its true that there is a bit of an Infatuation man crush going on here, I will also be the first to admit that the Momofuku Noodle Bar does not always live up to the hype (how could it?). It can be pricey depending on how you order, and it’s not the easiest place to get a table. There are definitely other celebrated ramen establishments in the neighborhood that serve a cheaper bowl of noodles, but to visit Momofuku Noodle bar in hopes of spending 10 bucks on some soup is to miss the point altogether. What makes the place special are all those other things on the menu that keep me coming back for a bar seat at the open kitchen like I’m actually going to learn something (I won’t). Come for the fried chicken special, come because there is pork in damn near everything, come because they have a soft serve machine, and come because they have a solid beer list. Make an evening out of trying new things and you won’t leave disappointed. Steinthal and I may argue over whether Momofuku or Ippudo claim title to the best steamed pork bun in the city, but we both certainly agree that Momofuku Noodle Bar is an indisputable Infatuation favorite.
I usually have a keen sense for the exact moment when something is going to take a turn for the worse. Just like any time a big name rapper appears in the opening credits to a blockbuster action film, sometimes you just know things are about to suck. I found myself confronted with exactly such a moment when I made my recent trip to Fatty Crab in the West Village. I rolled in with a party of six, and was initially told my table would be ready in ten minutes. Twenty passed, and then came the “wait, Common is in this?” moment. The host explained that the table of two he was expecting to leave just ordered an extra vegetable and some beers. At this point, I had to be at a show in forty minutes and had no choice but to wait it out or head to the Highline hungry. I chose the former, and waited for my table, now convinced that my rushed dinner would be a huge disappointment. Luckily, I was wrong. Once we finally sat, our waitress hit the ground hustling and made sure we not only got out of there in time, but also had a killer meal. Fatty Crab is not for everyone. The food is Malaysian, and the flavors aggressive. However, if that sounds like your style, you are in serious business. The chili crab is fantastic, and the watermelon pickle and crispy pork salad belongs in the pork dish hall of fame. I did happen to be with a friend who travels to the region often, and he made it clear that while Fatty Crab is good, there are other authentic joints in Manhattan that do excellent Malaysian food for a fraction of the price … sounds like we’ve got some research to do.
“Look for the red lantern,” instructs the Macao Trading Co. website. This is how you will know you have reached your destination – the Portuguese colony of Macao circa 1952, “a fugitive’s heaven from which there is no turning back.” Awesome. We’re apparently having dinner at Universal Studios tonight.
Last week, we went out on an Immaculate Infatuation blind date. A mutual friend introduced us to two food enthusiasts with whom we share similar tastes and interests, Miss Info and Heather Park. Team Infatuation suggested Macao Trading Co. for dinner based on some recent hype and the promise of an interesting “Chinese meets Portuguese” meal. A Thursday dinner went in the books and we hit the town feeling it. We met our partners in crime at the bar, hit it off immediately, and sat down at our table ready to get into some serious eating.
This review wrote itself so fast; I think I have enough material to make it a three part series. First of all, Macao is a huge scene … everyone in the house is either on an early in the game date, or starting off their night before they hit Pink Elephant. Second, the place is essentially a theme restaurant. There must have been a yard sale after the last Indiana Jones movie and the owners of Macao cleaned out every prop that Planet Hollywood didn’t already scoop up. I honestly wouldn’t have been surprised to see a monkey in a shriner’s hat come out and bus the table. The food and service were right about on par with a downtown Ruby Foo’s. We ordered a lot from the menu, many of the dishes suggested by our waiter, and nearly everything was overcooked, over seasoned, and overrated. The shining stars from our meal were the chicken dumplings, and you can get five of those for a dollar a few blocks north on Canal Street. Moral of the story? Next time we let our new friends pick the restaurant.
What an incredible disaster. Look up The Hindenburg on the internet and you will get an idea of the special kind of catastrophe our recent visit to Shang was.
Having heard some good things, Team Infatuation headed out on a rainy Monday night for further investigation. We made a reservation and arrived on time to an empty bar and an obviously slow restaurant – yet we were told to wait at the bar for our table. Fair enough. I understand the concept of not seating too many tables in a waiter’s section, kitchen capacity, or whatever – even though we had a reservation. After about fifteen minutes, we asked the host what the deal was and were reluctantly seated. We sat down and could hear a pin drop. Maybe a quarter of the tables were occupied, and judging by the complete absence of audible conversation, everyone was either angry or afraid of the staff. No waiter or busboy visited the table for about ten minutes, and throughout the evening we had to ask someone to find our server three times to rectify various mishaps.
Read the food rundown for the rest of the story, but the service was a joke, and this place is not cheap. Also, they will tell you it’s “family style”, which is perfect if you are family of exactly two, you are rich, and you hate food.
Giveaway: Dinner On Us
