Grubtrotters

I have been traveling nonstop for the past three weeks and haven’t had any time to stop and post. Between Florence, Siena, New York and New Jersey, I have had some amazing meals that I hope to find time to blog about in detail. But let’s start with last night’s meal and work backwards. I’m visiting my in-laws in Northern New Jersey. They’re Chinese, and they sure know how to eat. Last night, we visited a nondescript little joint in a Wayne, NJ strip mall called Cheng Du 23. From the outside, it didn’t look promising, with a sign touting “Asian Cuisine.” It opened about a year ago, and Vic’s parents didn’t have high hopes, either, until they tried it and found some of the most delicious, authentic Sichuan food around. They’re regulars now. If your palate is adventurous and you like your Chinese food spicy, you will love Cheng Du 23.

Vic’s parents ordered a ridiculous amount of food — so much so that the owner, who was waiting on us, asked if we were expecting more people. I have no idea how Vic’s Mom stays so skinny. She must weigh less than 100 pounds, and she chose five entrees and two appetizers for the four of us.

We started with a traditional Sichuan cold appetizer of ox tongue and tripe in a roasted chili peanut sauce. This was actually the spiciest dish we had all night so starting there made me a little nervous. But it was just this side of painful. The strips of tripe were long and thin like a flat pasta, with tiny chunks of tongue mixed throughout. For the uninitiated, tripe is made from the stomach of the ox. One of the things I appreciate about the Chinese is something they share with the Florentines in Italy: They make use of parts of the animal that many cultures waste.

My favorite dish, the lamb with special pepper sauce, doesn’t look that great in the photo (sorry, we only had the iPhone) but was really distinct and delicious. Strips of lamb were seasoned with hot red peppers and a cumin found only in the Himalayas near Tibet. This is not something you see on many menus in the U.S., and the flavor had a wonderful, smoky depth. If you have the chance to try this, please do. It’s worth a drive. Even smokier than the lamb was the tea smoked duck, another traditional Sichuan dish that was really done well here. All the flavors were strong, and the meat was moist.

Of course, most moist of all were the wonderful steamed juice buns (labeled “bum” on the menu). These dumplings were filled with soup and pork. We had to carefully pick up the delicate buns with a spoon, take a small bite and then sip out the soup before eating the rest of the dumpling. I had read about similar dumplings at Joe’s Shanghai Restaurant in New York but had never actually tried them until, now. How fun!

We also loved the whole fish in Chili Sauce, which was striped bass with minced pork and homemade Sichuan pickles on top. Fresh, hearty and fantastic. With all these strong flavors, the two least spicy dishes kind of got lost in the mix. The shrimp duet was a combination of stir fried shrimp with vegetables (mushrooms, carrots and baby corn) and jumbo shrimp with garlic sauce. We also had a chicken in garlic sauce, with the breast meat shaped like little flowers. Both were lovely, but the flavors paled next to the other dishes. If you don’t like much spice, these are the ones for you. Then again, I took a menu home and was shocked to read that the spiciest dish we ate (the tripe) only had one star next to it, denoting “medium spicy.” I can’t imagine how hot the two-star “extra hot and spicy” and four-star “very hot and spicy” dishes are. I think most mouths would be on fire. There’s also a handful of Americanized Chinese dishes, such as General Tso’s Chicken, listed as lunch specials. But skip those boring choices and go for something authentic and special. You won’t regret it. — Jenny

Cheng Du 23, 6 Willowbrook Blvd., Wayne, NJ, 973-812-2800

My all-time favorite food film is:

A. Like Water For Chocolate

B. Babbette’s Feast

C. Tampopo

D. Super Size Me

E. Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory

F. Eat Drink Man Woman

G. Soul Food

H. Chocolat

I. The Silence of the Lambs

I already have a good phone, so no sale there, but this did succeed in making me hungry.

If you enjoyed the clip, give it a vote in this poll. – Victor.

You may have noticed I have been missing in action for much of the summer. That’s because I just returned to L.A. from a five-week teaching gig at Northwestern University in Evanston. Make that five weeks of sheer food hell. I was forced to eat most of my meals in the 1835 Hinman cafeteria with 88 teenagers who promptly labeled the place “Nastytown.” I have been teaching at the same summer program for the past seven years, but never before have I experienced such a culinary Death Valley. The program has a soft spot in my heart because it’s where Victor and I met. This was the first year that his job prevented him from joining me, which didn’t help matters. I just couldn’t bear writing about the horror show until I knew it was over.

Of course, I did complain about the sub-par chow the first week, and the new Hinman chef and his bosses at Sodexo provided a lame excuse. They told me a “rogue chef” had been at the helm in prior years. His crime? “He tried to make the food too good,” they said. Believe me, this so-called rogue chef was no Thomas Keller, but, apparently, people forced to eat at other cafeterias complained. So instead of raising standards elsewhere, they lowered them at Hinman. Bureaucratic brilliance at its best.

The entrees for lunch one day looked like a menu for a C-rated restaurant called Carbotopia: potato burritos, corn dogs, popcorn, cauliflower and Mexican rice. That was it. The only green vegetable was in a bowl on display amidst this carbo-loading wasteland. A week later, I actually had to call the Evanston Health Department after finding bugs crawling on my breakfast berries. (My apologies to those who just lost their appetites.) Northwestern officials weren’t too happy with me for going “outside the system” to complain. So I told them, “Surely you aren’t opposed to any effort to protect the health and safety 88 minors?” Needless to say, that was my last breakfast at Hinman. They reimbursed me for the unused portion of my meal plan and let me eat elsewhere.

I’d like to thank a handful of Evanston restaurants that helped me through this culinary abyss. Evanston, the suburb on Chicago’s northern border, is not exactly a foodie haven — at least not since Grant Achatz left Trio to start Alinea. But there are a few down-home joints that seemed like nirvana compared to what I had been enduring.

Olive Mountain: This unassuming Middle Eastern restaurant is an old favorite. It has some of the tastiest hummus I have tried in a while — loaded with olive oil, sumac, parsley and spicy lemon juice on top. I can also recommend the pureed lentil soup, the couscous salad packed with veggies, and the combo platter of kifta kabobs, beef and shish taouk with vegetables and yellow Middle Eastern rice. Don’t expect much in the way of atmosphere. There’s a cheesy chandelier and pink and aqua tables. But the service is terrific. The staff is friendly and attentive, and the food is delicious, unpretentious and cheap. Lunch specials are $5.95 to $8.25 for an entree, beverage and your choice of hummus, falafel, Lebanese salad or soup.

Joy Yee’s: Having lived in L.A. for more than a decade, I was a little skeptical about trying Asian food in Evanston — especially at a restaurant that featured Japanese, Chinese, Thai and Korean dishes. But Larry Yee (no relation), a Chinese student from San Francisco who attended the program last year, had raved about it, and I was seriously jonesing for some noodles. Plus, Joy Yee’s had just reopened after a long renovation and was filled with Asian diners when I walked by. The walls were painted bright yellow, and the modern, web-like plastic chairs were not exactly inviting, but it turned out to be a perfect lunch spot. The menu read like a novel. I finally settled on some Udon noodle soup with soft shell scrab. The crab batter was a bit thick for my taste, but the soup came in a huge bowl with fresh bok choy, carrots and mushrooms. The noodles were thick and slippery. The broth was delicious.  It really hit the spot. (Later in the month, when I ordered the same soup for delivery late at night, the broth was overly salty. Perhaps it had been sitting too long.) I also tried the lemongrass chicken and noodles, which was served with green peppers. Solid dish, but nothing to write home about. My favorite discovery, however, was the fresh fruit smoothies, served with tapioca balls. The smoothies were amazing. I tried multiple combinations of mango, lychee, strawberries, coconut and bananas. They’re served at a counter with shimmering rainbow tiles. Maybe the name carries the power of suggestion, but Joy Yee’s really did make me happy.

Union Pizzeria: This new place is a bit out of place in Evanston. Or perhaps it’s a sign of the “new” Evanton — home to skyscraper condos and loads of yuppies. Union has a decidedly urban feel with a large warehouse space, exposed brick walls, high ceilings, chic hanging light fixtures over the bar and modern couches in the lounge. If you live in Chicago, Union is probably not worth the drive, but for Evanston, it’s nice to have a place that could be at home in LA or New York, too. There’s a wood-burning oven that serves nine different pizzas. I tried most of them and can recommend the sausage, sweet pepper, onion and Sicilian oregano, as well as the mushroom with bechamel, fontina and sage. The pizzas don’t rival the ones in Rome or at Mozza. But it’s a really nice change from the huge quiche-like, Chicago-style pies from Giordano’s. The Baccala of pureed salt cod, potato, cream and garlic was sinfully rich. And for health nuts, the white wine-braised Tuscan kale is also a winner. Service can be really slow, but there’s a strong beer and wine list, and this is a nice place to chill for a glass at the start or end of an evening. It is open late, at least by Evanston standards. The Women’s Christian Temperance Union was founded there, and Evanston was a “dry” until the 70s. So Union is certainly a sign of progress.

Despite these bright spots, I have probably never been so happy to be home. — Jenny

I don’t make it to Koreatown very often anymore. An ex of mine used to live there, and I’d rather not revisit those memories. Of course, when Josef Centeno was the chef at Opus, I did occasionally override my aversion. (Incidentally, I can’t wait to try Centeno’s new place, Lot 1 in Echo Park, and I hear he may still be chef at the upcoming Latin restaurant downtown called Casa. The more Centeno, the better.)

In any case, my Koreatown famine ended a few days ago when I had to visit the Chinese Embassy to get a visa for my trip to Hong Kong and Beijing next week. My visa adventure coincided with the lunch hour so I stopped off at Beverly Tofu House on Olympic, just west of Vermont. Lucky pick.

With valet costing just $1.50, I knew this was going to be a great deal. Beverly Tofu is an odd little spot resembling a woodsy cabin inside and out. It’s decorated with family-style picnic tables, with legs made from logs and hard wooden benches for seats. The attentive servers start you off with lovely Korean banchan: tiny bowls full of pickled cucumbers and turnips, a potato dish, cabbage floating in a bowl of spicy water, bean sprouts, spicy kimchi, which is fermented cabbage, and, of course, their signature tofu dish. The tofu was so delicate and ethereal, it was impossible for this Westerner to eat with chopsticks. Fortunately, they provided a spoon.

I ordered the seafood combo soon tofu, which is a steaming hot stew that arrives at your table popping and sizzling and spitting like a volcano about to erupt. Because this was my first visit, I ordered it medium spicy, which was perfect for my palate. It was loaded with tiny unshelled shrimp — heads and all — oysters, clams and mussels that tasted like they had just been snagged from the sea. The server cracked an egg right at the table and plopped into the center of the stew, which was so hot it cooked the raw egg on the spot. Watching those around me for guidance, I scooped out a few spoonfuls the stew into a little steel bowl full of rice, mixed it in and then took a bite.

Delicious. This meal was hearty, spicy and warm. I filed it away mentally as the perfect dish to have the next time I catch a cold. There was so much food, I couldn’t finish, which is rare for me. I’m sure the banchan is meant to be shared. Despite the vast quantities of grub for someone lunching solo, the meal was still light enough not to make me feel over-full. The kimchi, by the way, was wonderful, and you can buy it to go.

I’m not sure I’ll be going out of my way to drive from Venice to Koreatown very often, but the next time I find myself back there, I won’t hesitate to revisit this spot. –Jenny

Beverly Tofu, 2717 W. Olympic Blvd., 213-380-1113.