Due to an irrational craving for Peking Duck, our April Birthday dinner gathering was this year held at South Sea Seafood Village in Millbrae. The 2 ways duck was perfect - the fat perfectly rendered off and the skin light and crisp, served with puffy mantou style wrap. The lettuce cup filling made with the duck meat was probably the best I've ever had. However, we didn't order the soup ahead of time so we missed out on that - no duck 3 ways. I also loved the roast suckling pig, which again, had perfect skin and juicy meat and came with a sweet/savory sauce for dipping. A lot of times, the cold cut platter with jellyfish comes with dried up slices of tough meat but here everything was served just perfectly chilled and tender, except for the jellyfish, of course, which was appropriately bouncy. Our sandpot order was full of firm eggplant and little diced bits of pork perfectly just spicy enough. The walnuts for the walnut prawns were less candied than I'm normally used to, but were much crispier for it. The prawns themselves were served just tender and had the correct balance of creamy mayo dressing. We also ordered flash fried marigold, in Thailand, or "hollow heart greens", in Chinese, that were tossed with jalapeno's and a fermented tofu sauce. Finally a whole fish was stir fried with various vegetables in a cornstarched sauce, with the fins and head deep fried for easy bone picking tenderness.

The Birthday noodles were a little less than al dente, but held up the day after. Have a Cantonese speaker make the reservations, because otherwise they seat you at a shitty table where the door drafts over you every 15 minutes and then will refuse to move you to better seats in an otherwise not that busy restaurant. They also have takeout, which I imagine is a pretty luxurious meal for home.

The high point at this clean, busy and relatively friendly restaurant (the waitress actually smiled several times and was very helpful with the menu even though I wasn't Korean) is the Ssambap, which is a huge plate of very crisp red leaf lettuce, baby greens with radicchio even, and perfectly blanched cabbage and kelp used to wrap your choice of meats or fish. Also worth trying, #7 DaeJi Bo Sum, a huge plate of napa lettuce used as boats for poached slices of pork belly and a garnish of mildly spicy salad made of oysters, pine nut, walnut, shredded apple, and radish sprinkled with sesame. There is also an unusual dipping sauce made of fish sauce and tiny dried shrimp, reminiscent of a pungent and tasty condiment that is served in Thailand. Very refreshing.

Instead of fancy tabletop cookers or charcoal, the restaurant uses simple portable burners, like the kind people use at home for hotpot. After five, you can order combo meat plates to cook yourself. While the precooked standalone meats like Bulgogi and Kalbi - sliced through the bone* aren't bad, I will probably order the BBQ self serve that comes with very thinly sliced meat or head to Jangsu Jang next time. The Jap Chae seemed just competent but perhaps I wasn't paying it enough attention since I was overwhelmed with wonderful new dishes to try, particularly the new combinations and textures. Thicker than normal although perhaps as much as Jangsu Jang, the Seafood Pajeon was very soft and moist on the inside, crispy outside, and got mixed reviews which were more a matter of personal preference than of quality.

I really enjoyed large variety and freshness of pajeon that were served, including a candied sweet potato. Nothing felt like it had been sitting on a counter for days. The Jigae is substantial and thick though lacking perhaps a little bit of depth.  Bibimbap made here comes in the traditional bowl and is topped with a perfectly crisped sunny side up egg, gochujang, and lined at the bottom with an even golden brown crust. Prices are really quite reasonable and while this may not wholly be true, eating at Choi's kitchen at least feels healthier than typical Korean fare.

*I find that Northern California and Southern California seem to have different ways of cutting meat and serving or not serving dessert. I prefer cubed beef with Shikhye but I will definitely be returning to Choi's for some of the rarer dishes.

 

"Dalek: You cannot hurt me. I am immortal.

Rose: You are tiny. I can see the whole of time and space. Every single atom of your existence. And I divide them."  -- Dr. Who, Season 1 Finale

Catalog nudibranchs and lumpfish for fun. Dig for truffles. Read literature on a quiet beach. Swim with a whale shark. Swim with a mola-mola. Allergy shots and health insurance. Develop my stamina and strength with a comprehensive exercise regimen. Take pictures with my SLR. Eat homecooked meals while traveling. Dogsled. Grow my own herbs and zucchini. Dirtbike once a month during riding season. Cook and eat with other people who also like to cook and eat. Finish all my leftovers. Live in a house with hardwood floors and the sound of waves crashing in the distance. Dance while my friend spins tunes with moving bass on a pair of Technic turntables. Eat out every so often at a super gem hole in the wall with friends. Scuba in tropical water at least twice a year with a buddy I trust implicitly. Sew garments for my wardrobe and have enough money leftover to buy nice shoes. Dress up and try one very very fancy meal a year. Raucous potluck movie nights. Walk my dog two times a day. Do great dependable work at my job. Remember the personality of the people I love when presents and compliments are due. Speak my mind with as little offense as possible. Mentor someone as someone did for me. Be grateful for what I have. Live minimally. Learn all the time.

During a trip to Puerto Vallarta in 2008, we took a bus to a small beach outside of town to do some surfing. A pack of friendly dogs decided to spend the day swimming and dozing with us. Here's one lady sleeping under our table amidst packs and slippers.

I found this picture in my archives of a 2007 trip to Piute Mountains. The old motocross/enduro champ is in the front, leading all us amateurs around. That's me at the very back. This ride started out with my first flat tire, but 10 minutes later and we were back on the trail. I was proud that I had all my tools and knew how to fix it.  I really do miss my motorcycle, the confidence building, and all the camaraderie I found through dirt biking.

Crab and green onion quiche, livened with tomato paste, Madeira and freshly grated cheese. I used frozen puff pastry for the shell, baking it for 5 minutes in the dish before adding the filling and baking some more. This simple substitution makes for an elegant meal on the table in very little time. Again, the recipe is from the illustrious Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

Note: I don't have a proper pie server so my pieces came out ragged. The quiche could have used a couple more minutes in and out of the oven for a tad more firmness. I also don't think the puff pastry needs separate cooking time but perhaps a traditional crust might.

Working through Beouf Bourguignon several times gave me the confidence to tackle Coq Au Vin with ease. Cooking time is much shorter, but the steps are almost the same. Julia Child's Coq Au Vin recipe from Mastering the Art of French Cooking includes 1/4 cup of flaming cognac, omits the braising vegetables, and thickens the final sauce with beurre manie - a simple paste of flour and water.

The Menu for tonight:

Homemade rustic bread with salt and butter
Green salad with simple vinaigrette
Carrots roasted in light glaze and duck fat
Blanched green beans with a squeeze of lemon
Pellegrino Aranciata and Limonata
Steamed Rice (because I forgot the potatoes)

"Don't say that word. That word is offensive to advocates of me." --Sarah Silverman

I started this book at the library and couldn't put it down. If it wasn't for dinner, I wouldn't have. The Bocuse d'Or is the Olympics of the food world, a place where young talented chefs from the Michelin starred kitchens across the globe convene to test their mettle. Writer Andrew Friedman wrings a lot of mileage out of the American Team's unsuccessful bid for the podium in 2009, which was impeded by belated organization and clashing personalities. Friedman's narrative is intense and intensely intimate, letting you not only into the kitchen but delving straight into the competitive head game. Friedman lays out the little pitfalls that engender inspiration or the dreaded chef's block, mental obstacles that can cost a win. The thriller-esque writing depicts less subterfuge than you would expect, because there are no villains in this book. Instead, there are a lot of dedicated working heroes, people passionate about craft and driven to perfection by a culinary idee fixe. In particular, Thomas Kellar's nurturing spirit towards apprenticeship/mentoring (which I find lacking in architectural offices), resonates very clearly as the best path to promoting excellence. The Chef's integrity and worldview seems improbable in this messy world, but his success ultimately touches me deeply.