Mission of Burmese.

Yes, it's true, I popped back in to New York for a few days earlier this week. In between reunions with friends and the trip to Flushing with Dave chronicled below, I found time to stop in at the Burmese Cafe written up in the Voice just after I left last year.

I was really there because I wanted a pork knuckle, though. It's replaced the old Uncle Bino's Filipino restaurant, the cuisine of which I had developed a craving for over the last few weeks. But having specifically made a stop at 74th and Roosevelt for it, I was unwilling to admit defeat, and having recognized the Burmese joint from its review, was at least going to give it a shot.

Good thing I did, too, because the meal I had was a contender for the best one I had in my five days in the city. When I arrived for a late lunch, most folks were slurping at noodle soups, and I felt compelled to do the same, ordering the "Hot & Spicy Rice Noodle Soup" ($6). It was slightly fishy, slightly spicy, and largely delicious (not to mention quite hydrating after a long plane flight).

The star of the show was, however, the "Pork & Mango Pickle" ($5), which is a somewhat sour and dry curry (kind of like a rendang that makes you pucker a bit). It was absolutely phenomenal. I think the pork used was belly, with its layers of fat being perfectly stewed (or otherwise cooked) to melt in your mouth, and the meat being totally infused with the flavors of the sauce. That lovely, lovely sauce.

I would encourage you all to visit Burmese Cafe. With only a limited number of meals in New York City this week, I spent one of them on it and was not disappointed.

(PS, in case you're interested, Spicy Mina, Cheburechnaya, Miss Ruthie's, and DeFonte's have lost nothing off their fastball, and most of the other places I went have nothing to be ashamed of, either.)

Holding court

Mike and I went back to the J&L Mall Food Court in Flushing this weekend, to take another crack at the Szechuan stall near the end of the hallway. We were in between meals, so three of us split two small plates (about $4 each), each of which had two dishes in them.

My girlfriend and I opted for spiced cucumbers and seaweed salad, of which the latter was rather bland, and the former was quite extraordinary.

The cucumbers were lightly bathed in a sweet, slightly vinegary solution that yielded a lighter, less spicy version of the cucumber kimchee that you find in Korean restaurants. It still kept a crispy texture, except for a little bit of tenderness on the edges, and turned out to be a perfect summer treat. The seaweed, alas, was too tough stringy to be satisfying, and finishing it felt like a chore.

Mike opted for a peanut-and-tofu dish with spicy Schezuan peppers that left a pleasantly numbing tingling on the tongue. The tofu almost had the texture of chicken.

The other dish was somewhat of a mystery, with the texture of a lotus root or a stem-y shoot vegetable. Most of the flavor came from the Szechuan peppercorns anyhow, and the inclusion of peanuts in the other dish left us a bit more satisfied.

Does This Make Me a Tree Hugger Now?

Maybe my trip to the Bronx left patties on my mind, because last week, I had a real hankering to try to jerk chicken patties at Under D Tree, a small, no-frills Jamaican steam table joint smack dab in the middle of Harlem.

Actually, that's not true. I had a real hankering to try their goat roti, which wasn't at all a bad deal at $7.50. However, the two times I stopped by, they were either out, or just not making any. It was hard to tell--the woman running the place simply told me "no roti," and the expression on her face didn't reveal any desire to elaborate.

Not wanting to leave hungry a second time, I asked for two jerk patties ("no more jerk patties"), but left with one beef and one chicken ($1.60 each). The beef was pretty good--it had a little more of the springy texture I like, as opposed to the pure pate feel of the patties at Feeding Tree. Still, it wasn't spicy enough for my tastes.

But, boy, did that change. The chicken patty was almost a revelation. I admit, it started out a little weak, having dried around the edges and strangely smelling like bouillon cubes. But a few bites into it, I could feel a steady march of curried heat, with a nice helping of potatoes to deliver the flavor. In essence, it was a chicken roti delivered in a savory patty shell, and though I certainly prefer a well-made West Indian roti shell, I haven't been able to find one of those anywhere in Manhattan. I'm rather curious about the steam table offerings, which also come in rather cheap, but it'll be hard to resist those chicken patties.


Under D Tree (map)
182 Lenox Ave at 119th St.
(212) 410-1183