There’s always that food you crave most when you’re lying in bed with a fever. For me, it’s rice porridge – a soupy bowl of fluffy white rice topped with seaweed, pork sung, and green onions to fill the stomach and ease the throat. It makes me feel better every single time; I’ll swear my life on it.
When I recently discovered Charm Juk, a restaurant entirely devoted to rice porridge and nestled between the H Mart and Yogurtland in Carrollton, I knew I was a goner. Sometimes you fall in love without even taking a first bite.
Alexander Nham wrote “An Ode to Chinese Pastries” in City of Ate last week, and pointed Observer readers to Vivian Bakery located in the New Chinatown in Richardson. Not sure why he called it “new” when Chinatown has been there forever. I mean, I was probably too young to even walk when my mother brought me along with her to shop there. That was twenty-something-odd years ago. The only thing that’s new are those knock-off Terracotta soldiers they added to make the place look less dumpy. Plenty of bakeries have come and gone since then, but Vivian Bakery, to which Nham references, has been there for more than a few years now, attached to the hip of a Chinese grocery store called Tian Tian Super Market.
It’s rare when this happens (because I’m a sucker for every kind of carb), but I walked into Vivian Bakery two weeks ago and walked out empty-handed. It was a Saturday afternoon and the breads didn’t look fresh; they were shriveled up in their plastic wrappings. I was willing to give the place a shot until I caught an offensive glimpse of cheese (like the Kraft singles you buy at Wal-Mart) melted on top of a pastry. After reading Nham’s review of Vivian Bakery, I considered the fact that I might have just… you know… imagined that slice of cheese. Wanting to give Vivian’s another chance, I returned for a second trip last Friday. This time I found a “chocolate” bread covered in brown goop with multicolored sprinkles. Don’t get me wrong, I love sprinkles. They’re wonderful on donuts and cupcakes and cookies. But sprinkles do not belong on Asian bread. Period. (more…)
It’s been eleven days, twenty-three hours, and forty-seven minutes since I tasted my first black sesame flan at Masami, a charming Japanese restaurant with traditional touches, and I’ve been going a little bit crazy in the head ever since.
Jump if you’ve never had this before. (more…)
Ever since the Chinese New Year, I made a Chinese New Year’s resolution to find some exceptional Chinese food. Pretty creative idea, I know. If I’m being completely honest, I have never been too impressed with my experiences in the past, and many of this town’s apparent favorites were a bit of a let down for me. After probing many friends, both Asian and non-Asian, about their stand-by establishments, I was pointed to Taiwan Café, an incredibly humble joint in a strip mall in Plano. As the suburbs north of Dallas seemed to be the most celebrated areas for Asian cuisine, I thought this was probably a decent option, and when I found out it was cash only, this was only an affirmation of its legitimacy.
Another location of Taiwan Café exists in Richardson, and at one point they shared the same owner, but since that time, the Richardson location was sold and ownership changed, the name, however, stayed the same. So, I can’t speak for this second location, but the grub at the Plano joint is better than any other I’ve had in Dallas. (more…)
While other children my age were perfectly satisfied with eating buttered noodles (a bland phenomenon I will never understand), I spent my summers and winters in Taipei demanding to eat Peking duck. Give me some fat, crispy-skinned duck caramelized in its own juices, and I will be the most well-behaved kid on this planet. It worked every time.
Let it be known that I hardly eat Peking duck in the States. It is always a sure disappointment that will make me start itching to buy a plane ticket to Taiwan the very second I finish my meal – money be damned. When I heard that Mr. Wok serves up a mighty duck, I decided that it was time to break my golden rule and see what all the fuss was about.
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You all remember Carol Shih. She’s been an intern at D Magazine for a while. Last October she came to me with an idea for a series of posts on SideDish called Good Asian Grub. She did such a good job, we hired her. For the last two weeks she has been getting our restaurant directory in shape. (BTW, we have over 1,000 editorial listings available on any smart phone or computer or our D Recommends App in the iTunes store.) Carol speaks Chinglish (half-Chinese, half-English) which comes in handy in editorial meetings. Here is her official bio:
Carol Shih recently received her degree in Public Policy at Duke University, where she quickly decided her degree was useless if she wanted to write for magazines. So she graduated and moved back to good ol’ Carrollton, the city she was named after. As the new online assistant dining editor, Carol is often hungry from reading restaurant menus (thanks, PR people) and keeps a stash of Meiji chocolates inside her desk.
Be nice to her. She is young and full of enthusiasm. PR peeps, add her to your lists: Carol.Shih@dmagazine.com.
Last night, I schmoozed with some Dallas media people at Five Sixty by Wolfgang Puck for a complimentary sampling of its Chinese New Year’s menu. Big D foodies like Teresa Gubbins, Steven Doyle, Jennifer (RealPoshMom), and the nice lady from foodbitch (I swear you said your name was “Katie,” but your blog says “Rachel.”) busted out their phone cameras the second after Executive Chef Patton Robertson finished introducing each course. Photos of the five courses happily lodging inside my intestines have already been posted on several different blogs, so there’s no point rehashing all the deets. I’d just like to add this little bit: the lobster dumpling had a thicker skin than I’m used to, yet the golden pineapple sticky cake made the whole elevator ride up to Five Sixty completely worth it for someone with baby acrophobia.
Jump because you’re hungry and you know it.
My family used to have the weirdest Chinese New Year tradition. When I was a young lass, my mother would scrub seven or eight coins really well and hide them inside her homemade pork dumplings so she could watch my brother and I go cockfight crazy as we each attempted to amass the most number of coins. To our disappointment, my father would always win; his superior chopstick skills and fast-eating ways would earn him a shining victory (plus some pained teeth from biting down too hard). His winnings meant that he’d have the most prosperity for the rest of the year.
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Dragon babies, this is your lucky year.
Prepare to move halfway across the world for that dream job as a tattoo artist, meet the love of your life (potentially George Clooney, but don’t get your hopes up), and exert your independent strength in some political rally where you’ll end up smelling like those Occupy Wall Street dudes. In any case, you should probably celebrate at these places before your luck runs out.
Kirin Court is going to be a hot spot for Chinese people who like to start off their new year just like everyone else in Asia: family style. It’s going to be packed, especially on Jan 18, Jan 28 and Feb 4 when lion dancers will perform around 7pm. Sit around a circle table with 8-10 people and stuff your faces with lobster, garlic fried chicken, pig feet, and red bean soup for dessert. $278 for ten people and $208 for eight.
Never in a million years would I endorse P.F. Chang’s since I can’t stand fake Chinese food, but P.F. Chang’s will be handing out red envelopes containing unknown rewards to guests who visit between January 23 and February 6. I don’t want to be held responsible if evil spirits haunt you for not receiving a red envelope this year, so maybe you should go just to drink their specialty Dragon Punch cocktail.
Steel Restaurant and Lounge’s website mistakenly thinks it’ll be the Year of the Rabbit, but at least its dinner menu between January 23-29 has it right: three courses for $45 per person with whole fish, duck, noodles, and shrimp. Here’s the menu in case you’re not convinced yet. Traditional lion dancing by the kids from Chin Woo School will take place on January 23 at 8pm.
Reminder: Five Sixty by Wolfgang Puck is having a prix fixe menu for $125 per person like Nancy mentioned in this post. If you’d like to see him in person on February 1, reserve a spot soon.
The first day of 2012 Chinese New Year is January 23 and the festivities go on for 15 days! Bet you didn’t know 2012 is the 4709th Chinese year and is the year of the Water Dragon.
So far, I have only received one notice of a special Chinese New Year celebration dinner: Five Sixy by Wolfgang Puck is doing a prix fixe menu for $125 per person. Wolfie will be in town for the dinner on February 1. All the details are below.
Anybody else out there have info an specific celebrations taking place? (more…)
D Magazine intern Carol Shih prowls Dallas for the best Asian cuisine and also writes a blog about sandwiches.
On Fridays and Saturdays after the last prayers are said in Arabic, the Ismailis of Carrollton exit the holy halls of their Jamatkhana, file into cars that’ll take them across two minutes of roads, and greet each other again inside the Al Markaz shopping complex where they fill their empty stomachs with juice and samosas.
An elevator-sized shop, squeezed between a beauty parlor and cell phone store, bears the name AGHA JUICE and a colorful neon sign that indicates it’s open until midnight.
Before Agha Juice opened its doors in 2004, Kareem Valliani, the owner, discovered that his community was missing a dessert concept. “Back home in Karachi, after dinner we would go out and have dessert. There was no place here for the dessert that we enjoyed back home.” So he bought a small space next to the George Bush Turnpike and covered the walls with bright objects he’d bought in Karachi—objects that Pakistani parents could point out to their American-born children and say, “You see that toy truck? That’s what the trucks in Karachi look like.”

Not On The Menu: Order Niu Nan Bao, tender beef and tendons cooked in a stew of bok choy, carrots, and turnips.
D Magazine intern Carol Shih prowls Dallas for the best Asian cuisine and also writes a blog about sandwiches.
Every month or so, my dad gets this craving for A Wok, a Taiwanese family restaurant in Plano, and moans about their fish fillets until we all get dressed and eat there for dinner. It’s become our go-to place of the century. Don’t feel like cooking tonight? Time for A Wok. It’s Christmas Eve and the whole world has shut down? Hey, A Wok is open. Located on Independence Parkway, this grungy little establishment has saved my family on several occasions whenever we needed Taiwanese food.
Chef and owner Steve Kang, a Taipei man with dark circles and the ability to ramble on a good bit, arrived in 1977 and has been cooking Chinese food on American soil ever since. If his customers don’t like a dish, he takes it off the menu. “It’s a success when six out of ten people like it,” Kang says. “You can’t please everybody.”
Whenever I go grocery shopping in 99 Ranch Market with my mom, I consider buying one of those ridiculous child safety harnesses that some parents use to rein in their little ones. Except mine would be a reverse leash: daughter prevents mother from her crazy tendencies to buy enough pastries from a small Taiwanese bakery inside 99 Ranch Market to feed all the children in Africa.
But who can blame her? Even I can’t help swooning once I’m standing inside Désir Bakery, surrounded by the aroma of sweet and salty breads.
A young pastry chef named Jessica told me that people come again and again because “it reminds them of the bakeries in Taiwan” and they always fall in love with the generous portions for a small amount of change. How much can five dollars buy you at La Madeleine’s bakery? A barely-breakfast of drip coffee and one mini tart. At Désir, those greens can land you a paprika hot dog ($1.19), giant “cup cake” ($1.09 for a cup cake not in the traditional American sense), a Taiwanese pineapple cake ($1.49), and a cup of house coffee ($0.99). That’s what I call a breakfast of champions.
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Combination seafood noodle soup with roasted pork, shrimp, squid, and fish cakes. (photo by Carol Shih)
D Magazine intern Carol Shih prowls Dallas in search of the best Asian cuisine. This time she bribed her Vietnamese-American friend to help her translate and teach her the art of eating.
When I took my old high school buddy Theresa to Bon Mua (“Four Seasons”), a Vietnamese restaurant in Carrollton, she laughed the minute I started draining the bowl of beef broth the owner, Din Huynh, placed in front of me. “You’re not supposed to drink it first,” she said. “You pour a little bit onto your rice to wet it, and then you finish the soup after you’re done with the meal.”
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D Magazine intern Carol Shih prowls Dallas in search of the best Asian cuisine. She’s a weird Chinese American who doesn’t like most seafood, but can’t help feeling passionate about sushi.
In my food religion, sushi is the Bread of Life and I am its most intrepid disciple. If it weren’t for this inherent desire to seem normal, I would have erected a temple of worship for this Japanese food and used a rice cooker as the altar. Instead, I named my blond Labrador “Sushi” and consider this a sign of my lasting devotion whenever she slips through the fence and I’m hollering her name down the street. My neighbors must think I’m crazy and always hungry.
Food porn and more below.
D Magazine intern Carol Shih prowls Dallas in search of the best Asian cuisine. Recently she tried using sign language to speak with a Korean woman. Didn’t work. People are suspicious of writers these days.
When my college buddy Hannah visited last weekend, she dragged me to Super H Mart in Carrollton to find her favorite Korean snack, bungeoppang (literal translation: carp bread), a rare treat in her home state of North Carolina. It took only a couple minutes for Hannah to spot the black appliance most street vendors in South Korea use to make this toasty fish pancake filled with red bean. Our stop: a little shop on the edge of the food court that spells out “Toreore” in red letters and sells “Chicken & Joy.”
Jump for joy.
D Magazine intern Carol Shih prowls Dallas in search of the best Asian cuisine. She used Chinglish (half-Chinese, half-English) to interview chef and owner Sky Kuo, proving that you don’t need Google Translator for everything.
If I’m given the choice between rice or noodles, I will almost always pick noodles so I can release my inner caveman and slurp, slurp, slurp away with my mouth hovering two inches above the bowl and my chopsticks traveling rapidly in between. And there’s no better place than the Noodle House in Plano to practice your chopstick skills. This Taiwanese restaurant is well-respected by the Asian community for its beef noodle soup.
Don’t take it as a bad sign if you walk through the door and there’s nobody else in the restaurant, the owner and his four-year-old son will charm you into playing with his plastic toys. For some reason, the Noodle House is never at full capacity, but this means that devoted customers’ orders are prepared right on the spot.
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