Pigs Ears

Cali Love. I always vibe and get along with my Cali peeps. I must of been Cali hippie in another lifetime, beach bum fo so. Their energy, style, mystery and look is so infectious. It something I didn't grow up with, something that I love. I met Daisy last week at a Luckyrice event and we exchange numbers because she wanted to introduce me to her friend Tracy. We decided to meet Sunday at a dive bar in Bushwich, where the Bloody Mary's flowed and where I met Gene and Tracy. My first impressions of Tracy were positive. She was pretty, I noticed her tats and her style was all me. I thought she was so my type but of course I still needed to get to know her. Time passed and we were 3-4 drinks in. We talk about the west coast, what Asians are suppose to look like and my past relationships. I really didn't get to know Tracy, she was really into her music on her iPhone and talking to the bartender. Maybe I wasn't her type, maybe she was buzzed but I really couldn't tell. Our second stop was Oh! Tasho. I haven't been there in so long and damnnn the food was legit, probably the best ramen I've since LA. Gene opened up about her dealing with racism and I totally felt connected to her. I couldn't compare to what she going through growing up in Dallas but I understood her. As a model minority their are things we all grew up dealing with. You know the neurotic Asian mom, being good at math, becoming a doctor or an accountant, playing basketball was made for the black kids, being called ching chong, feeling nervous when your friends came over because the house smelled like Chinese food. I knew where Gene was coming from and I'm glad she was opened with her feelings even though I just met her. Maybe she knew I was down, she did say that she could tell I was from NY because I was very straight forward. We also talk about Jnco and how we should bring it back. Criss Crossed, everything. We had a chill time while we getting our munchines on but I really didn't get to know Tracy, still.

Next stop, St. Marks Ale House. Daisy and I decided to go for round three while Gene and Tracy walked home. Daisy was so anxious to ask me what I thought about Tracy, lol, we weren't even at the bar yet. Tracy was pretty and attractive. I also told her I thought that she was a bit shy, I didn't know exactly what it was but she knew exactly where I was coming from and my answer was not surprising. I felt that Tracy could have been uncomfortable in her own skin. I hope that I didn't make her feel that way. Was I being to open or Cantonese, loud?? I'm definitely too raw and honest sometimes. Maybe I shouldn't have talked about my best friend's drunk stories. Then we started talking about Daisy and her past. I totally saw that she wasn't over her break-up or maybe she was but I knew something was bothering her. I told her that this feeling that your feeling will never go away. It's something you live with no matter how much you want an answer. We talked about being "in control" of your situation and not letting things that you don't have control of bother you. Last night we had a deep, rich, honest convo and I really felt what she was going through. Even though god gave me a gift of being Dr. Love, I know I can't fully diagnosis anyone but the least I can do is share my experiences and hopefully that will be my leading hand. Overall I met really down peoples, friends that I wouldn't mind kicking with again. A random Sunday that far exceeded my expectations, to drinking Bloody Mary's and eating pigs ears. Hours passed and we were the only one's left at the bar. My and Daisy kept it 100 and we could've talked for hours but then we still have to write chapter two. three. fifty.

Great Love

As a kid I remembered always being a bit more mature than all the kid's around me, at least for my age. It made my decision making easier, especially when it came to girls. My elementary years were my finest moments. I always played the dad in the family and all the girls had a crush on me and the boys wanted to be me. As I ventured off to middle school, it was the first time my Kwok Fu-shing haircut failed me and there were no longer girls screaming at my door. It sucked going to a new school where you had to met new friends. High School was the same, the unfamiliarity sucked at times. Though I was crushed on I never really gave anyone a chance, I just wasn't interested. I knew what I wanted. 

Then in my senior I had my first real girlfriend. My boy Rich Chang went to Bronx Science and he invited my to their senior ski trip. I had no expectation, no feelings, really. I remember when I first laid eye on Grace Wen, it was in front of 40 Rd. park while we were loading the bus. And then when I sat down in the back of the bus, I had my eyes peeled to the front as she approached her seat. I never felt the way I did about someone until I met her. She was beautiful, stunning and the connection we had for each other felt right. Nothing else ever did but she did. After 3 years of dating, amazing years and at times really tough, but 100% real. I heard the words "I don't see you in my future" and "I don't have the same feelings for you anymore, " from the one person I'd never wanted to hear say. It wasn't pain I felt. But a numbness and in that moment things didn't feel real and time stood still. Happiness was taken away from my senses. Shit really hurt and I loss all control. Feelings, reality, everything, especially her. I had dreams of suicide and every waking moment I just thought about her. It was a battle. A war that seemed like I wasn't ever going to win. I never felt I had enough in me, whatever it was and I was fight a losing battle. Finally 2 years later, the pain subdued and the sulking finally started to disappear. For a person that once couldn't imagine such pain, a feeling that felt like your heart was pumping blood through your system but the body wasn't reacting to the oxygen, that person had finally accepted the pain. Remorse was next. I was sorry, sorry to her, sorry that I couldn't be the best bf I could. And that was the only thing I ever wanted. I would have given everything for her but I wasn't the best I could be for her. It's been nearly 8 years since that day and almost 2 months before she gets married. As a mature man looking back, I realize that I wouldn't thank her for making my feel the way I did. But I want to thank her for giving me a chance, the chance to love and be loved. To hurt and learn from my mistakes. To take blame and cherish the things that seemed everlasting. My heart will always live with the great memories we shared and it has molded me into who am I today, good or evil. I learn that I will always care and I will always have love in my heart for her. And great love will always live with you until the end of day. But we weren't meant to be together, in that moment, in our lives.

Patty Ewing's

I remember when I was 9 years old, waiting for the teachers to sound their horns to signal play time after we ate lunch. We would rush out to the middle court with our rubber basketballs in our red Chinese bags. It was always my crew (Patty and Ryan) against them (Franz and Daniel), we fought world wars everyday while we still were trying to digest mechanical formed chicken patties and 2% low fat chocolate milk, but we all knew this was the court, where the cool kids played. My love for basketball started at a young age, I still remember hoopin downstairs with my playsckool. I don't know what got into my parents when first introduced me to hoop since they never played basketball, but I'm glad they did. It help me develop a love, a passion, a hobby, a lifestyle, an attitude that is still strong today.

My mom would never let me buy the expensive shoes. It was what the cool kids were wearing and my bother's best friend Chris was always rocking, the newest shit. He had the illest style and I always envied his sneakers. For some reason mom would always take me to Jamaica Ave. when it was time for new kiks. She loved going to KFC after shopping where she sweared that "the chicken is bigger here". Mama was right, the distributors knew where to send the premium pieces. To the hood. I still remember the little shack where I copped my first Knicks hat, some of my earliest and most vivid memories were at the ave with my mom. We would hit up V.I.M, it got me off, it felt like watching my first porno. I guess it was seeing all the new kiks that were out at that time. Either it was the new Penny's or the Bo Jackson's, but it was the mecca of sneakers stores, all their sneakers were stacked on the wall, in between the isles, stacks and stacks. I was always stuck with the mid-level shit, never got a taste of the new MJ's or Griffey's. After trying on a few pair, mama finally ok'd the Ewing's. At that time I was bummed out but I was a die hard Knick fan and I knew I would be reppin. I was a bit scared and embarrassed that the kid's at school would make fun of me because it wasn't the "Nike's". I was always worrying about what everyone thought, it must have crossed me a million times that they would look at me as the cheap ass Asian kid that couldn't afford the real kiks. But then their was Ryan Punsulan, he was my best friend and the cherry on was top was that he was a die hard Knick fan too, Ewing's #1 fan. I couldn't believe he was sweating my Ewing's. He loved them as much as I loved his mom's iced tea. That iced tea was legit always made with TLC, it was always cold, always had the right amount of fresh lemons, and always sweeter then the suggested amount. It was iced tea, but we didn't have that at my house. It's 2013 and who would have thought they would bring back the Ewing's. No longer a mid-level, but an exclusive.

Recommended Reading: Medium Raw

A sequel to Kitchen Confidential? First it was the underbelly of the cooking world and now a bloody valentine to the world of food and people who cook it. Last time you were in a book , your goods were being censored by a cow's femur talking about your last supper on earth. Well thank the heavens that meal hasn't come yet, and you're still writing witty clever bullshit about food. Medium raw sounds gory, cold, and as delicious as a well cooked poterhouse steak. Maybe I should write a book about how much my feet and lower back aches after a 16-hour shift or about my unpassionate managers. But wait I don't have a hit television show and food network isn't knocking on my door to do cooking demos at their food festivals. That's why I will be attending Anthony Bourdain's book signing next week Tuesday, June 8, 2010 at 7:00 p.m at B&N Union Square, 33 E 17th St. Reserve your copy now.

Best of Miami

Pollo Tropical

Multiple Locations

Marinated grilled chicken, rice and beans with curry mustard sauce

Los Perros

13313 SW 42 Street

Miami, FL 33175

Superperro: Hot dog, sour cream, mozzerella cheese, mustard, ketchup, pink sauce, and potato chips with a Colobiana

Los Mega Perros

9511 W Flagler Street

Miami, FL 33174

Mega Burger: Beef burger, ham, bacon, lettuce, tomato, mozzerella cheese, ketchup, sour cream, pink sauce, potato chips

Mexicano Auténtico

The 7 train is as much a part of Queens as the Mets are. There's a brewing debate over why there isn’t any "authentic" or "good" Mexican food in New York like there is in Los Angeles? Last time I checked Mexicans are still working at our restaurants, which is a good thing. They run the 7 train, especially during late hours, likely coming back from a long shift at Chef Flay or Chef Boulud restaurants. These Mexicans have to eat somewhere.

I make treks out to Jackson Heights every so often when the weather behaves and today's weather definitely did. I know I keep coming back to this area for a reason. Maybe it's the diversity, grit, hustle, or noise coming from the tracks, or it could simply be that they're serving damn good food under the 7 train. Frommer's, Fodor's and other city guides better start paying attention to Jackson Heights or they will miss out on a big part of New York culture and eats. Today I decided to try Taqueria Coatzingo on 76-05 Roosevelt Ave.; I wanted to prove to myself and the critics that there is good Mexican in New York. Food from the south should be simple. There shouldn’t be any white cream, fire sauce, yellow processed cheese, hard taco, or molten hot melted cheese. A taco should be made with meat or nasty bits, some cilantro, onions, a wedge of lime, a side of radishes wrapped in two corn torillas.

You can find this on taco carts, joints, stands all over Roosevelt Ave. from 61st St to 90th st. Being pretentious, fake, or selling out is a crime here. You will find mom and pops selling food that they grew up eating and are currently eating at home. There's no fancy lighting , decoration or trademarks, street carts have no crazy signs to attract customers. Sometimes signs are being held forks if need be, cheeck the pictures from the Tamale Lady. Don't limit yourself to just tacos, please do try everything that looks good here. I went with for the carnitas, tripa picante, and al pastor today. It was probably the most juicy authentic taco I've had in New York. They were over stuffed and topped with onions, cilantro, and guacamole. It was accompanied with lime, radishes and a roasted jalepeno. Everything just worked. These people down here are eating well and you should envy them. For dessert I suggest you go to a corner stand and get mangoes with lime and chili powder. But I wanted to splurge today so I walked 16 blocks over to 61st St and checked out the Tamale Lady. Should I get the Mexican Hot Chocolate or piping hot tamales? Of course, you know I had to try the tamales. So I got the Mole con Pollo and Salsa Verde, again authentic. This lady was as gentle as your grandmother. You knew these pillows of masa were going to be deliciously made from those hands. Maybe it's the language or the fear of exploring a foreign territory, but be adventurous and get off the 7 train between Main St. to Queensboro Plaza to experience really good authentic Mexican food.

 

Down Under the 7

 

Tacos, Limes, Radishes, Roasted Jalepeno

 

Carnitas (Fried Pork)

 

Al Pastor (Pork on a Spit)

 

Tripa Picante (Spicy Tripe)

 

3 Tacos: $6.53

 

Tamale Cart

 

Menu

 

Tamale Lady

 

Mole con Pollo

 

 Salsa Verde con Pollo

My Classic Creations

Deviled Eggs

 

Kneading dough for the Eggs benedict

 

Eggs benedict topped with canadian cacon, poached egg, topped with holladaise sauce

 

Caramelized apples topped with creme anglaise, whipped cream on a drop biscuit

 

Buttermilk biscuit topped with mornaise sauce