Otherworldy Ma Po Tofu at Great Wall. The Rest? Not so much.

The owner of Great Wall Szechuan Restaurant “says that his goal and mission is to present the best Szechuan cuisine to the world,” as quoted in an article printed on the menu. I don’t know about the ‘world’ part. The 14th street storefront, just north of P is the type of place you’d pass by hundreds of time without a second thought. My friends who live blocks away don’t know it's there. But I had noticed a City Paper review in the window and a glowing review on Chowhound, though there’s limited Internet traffic about the place. So after a couple of years of meaning to, I stopped by for takeout one night on my way home.

The Ma Po Tofu ($7.95), is life changing! I became obsessed with the dish after trying it there and after trying multiple renditions up and down the East Coast, it is my favorite by far. The dish is simple yet the taste is one of the most complex I’ve experienced. Dozens of cubes of soft, silky tofu. Green onion. Numbing red chili oil and black bean sauce. For those unfamiliar with the Szechuan peppercorn: it’s also known as the numbing peppercorn. It offers a fiery heat that tickles your tongue. Have a bite then have a sip of water to cool it off and your tongue will tingle like you’ve got a mouth full of lime seltzer. What distinguishes Great Wall’s Ma Po from the others I have is the oil’s harmony with the black bean sauce. Black beans are standard in the preparation, but where I’ve only come across a few beans, the sauce mixes with the peppery sauce here to create a nuanced, muddy red that I’ve not encountered anywhere else. The dish can be ordered with meat or no meat. With no meat, the dish is still a revelation for vegans and could win over the most ardent opponent of bean curd. The meat version reaches another level altogether, both from the specks of pork dotting the tofu, but moreso from a third element, pork fat, creating one of the richer sauces you’ll ever taste.

I usually can't ever get past ordering it the Ma Po Tofu, so I’m glad when a dining companion I’ve brought wants some shrimp. Don't let the name Shrimp Szechuan ($9.95) fool you. As it says on the menu, the shrimp is served in a preparation of Tomato Sauce with Onions. Do they even eat tomatoes in China? If they do it’s news to me. The sweet sauce has the consistency of ketchup and is only slightly thinner. It’s unsophisticated, un-Chinese, though edible and still enjoyable. And it’s right at home on the menu of mostly Americanized Chinese food.

While the Shrimp Szechuan is upfront about its American heritage, I expect more from the Crispy Chicken Szechuan Style ($9.95) on the House Specialties section. It's a dish common to the cuisine, and the last rendition I had, at Tasty China in Marietta, was full on flavor and spice. This version should have been sent back to the kitchen. Crispy? Slightly. Heat? Non-existent. It was deep fried chicken chunks with standard cloying Chinese sweet sauce. Nothing Szechuan about it. It's marked with a chili pepper on the menu, so I ask the waitress if I had ordered right. Was it the Szechuan chicken? Indeed it was she said. But it's served without a semblance of spice. There's nothing to it. I've heard of restaurants scaling things back for perceived American tastes. But this dish didn't even come close. Not a single pepper. C'mon!

Steamed Pork Dumplings ($3.50 for 4) are standard fare but do the trick. Opt for them over the Vegetable version that contain only a wrinkly peas and cubed carrot blend, the same that came with my shrimp dish.

There’s the failure to serve acceptable rice, which is hard to understand. The bowls are far from fresh, clumpy and seemingly cooked long ago and kept warm or reheated. It’s not a one time occurrence and is a problem encountered by several other web reviews I’ve found, and the indifference this staple is off-putting.

In my last trip there I head back to the Ma La menu. To me, that's not just the safe bet, but really the only bet. But instead of sticking with the tofu, I give the Ma La cold noodles a try. Another mistake. Al dente Asian noodles? No, just old and stale.

This rice, ketchupy sauces, frozen peas, and stale noodles seem at odds with the goal and mission to present the best to the world. But the Ma Po Tofu? Otherwoldly.

Great Wall Szechuan House
1527 14th Street NW
Washington, DC 20005
(202)-797-8888

I Am Delicious

Have been getting lots of good feedback from friends about my Marietta - Tasty China article. Thanks for reading! The blog post was even given a shout out on the You Are Delicious blog along with Bitten from the New York Times and A Mighty Appetite from WaPo. Pretty good company!

And the link in the same post to the the Maury Povich picklephobia clip on You Tube could only be from it being the gchat status of Yours Truly!

You Are Delicious is a good place to read about issues in sustainable eating--read vegan cooking and other interesting tidbits all "for a tastier you." And there's the writer's food pictures of a recent trip to China that made me just a wee bit jealous. Can you tell I'm in a China phase!


Also, please note that the Marietta - Tasty China post has been updated as of 2/25. After rereading it, I realized that a few vital paragraphs about Peter Chang, the former chef of Tasty China and veteran of DC chinese, were missing. Check out the updated post.

On the Bus to Tasty China - Marietta, GA

On Location - Marietta, GA

Something in me revels in traveling the hard way. It’s a potent mix of a sense of adventure, passion for maps and public transportation systems, frugality, self-sufficiency, and wariness of the unscrupulous taxi or shuttle driver. Sure I could land at my destination, fork over $50 or so, and be dropped off at my hotel. But where’s the fun in that? So when traveling to Marietta, GA for work, 20 miles northwest of downtown, far from the reaches of its limited rail system, heading straight for a shared shuttle to my hotel is out of the question. I’m bussing it!

Usually, ground transportation at an airport is straightforward enough. Follow the signs, pay a couple of bucks, and 20 or 30 minutes later you’ve arrived downtown on the cheap. But when you’re not staying downtown? When you’re staying at the Days Inn—Marietta amongst the strip malls of Southern suburbia? In a new town that I don’t know and knows no trains? I recently ventured to figure out as I traveled to the Atlanta area on business and reached the only conclusion possible…I’m bussing it!

Now I did say business mind you! Work was paying and an airport shuttle was certainly allowed. Heck, a rental car would have been authorized. But there I was on the Cobb County DOT website, figuring on poorly marked maps how to save my office $50. After a first look or two it didn’t seem feasible. I started calling shuttle operators to find a best rate. Then I thought to check Greyhound. They had a bus from downtown each hour. But after repeat visits to the site, my convoluted pieces began to come together. MARTA (subway) to Arts Center Station. Then the Cobb County #10 bus would get me within a half mile walk from my destination. Another discovery, the #50 bus goes right to where I need to go and intersects the #10 at the Cumberland Transfer Station! If I catch it, I can avoid walking along desolate South Marietta Parkway and be dropped right where I’m going!

As I touch down at Hartsfield-Jackson, I’m excited about my journey. I tell my plans to a friend I’ll be staying with in Atlanta later that weekend. “You’re crazy,” he exclaims over the phone. “I’ve lived here 4 years and haven’t been on a bus once, let alone a Cobb County bus.” Yeah, you’re talking to a guy who hopped busses all over Cairo where the numerals are different and we can barely communicate. I think I can handle Cobb.

And I execute my plans to a tee with schedules jotted down and Google maps in hand. Train: easy as pie. Bus: there aren’t a whole lot of signs at Arts Center Station, but there’s one bus waiting. The #10, and I run for it! When we finally get going a few minutes later, I pretend to have an air of confidence about me, like I know exactly where I’m going. Well, the truth is I do! But I do feel a bit out of place. Who the hell is this white guy with luggage and a backpack reading the Washington Post, they must be thinking. I put away the Post and reach for the weathered copy of Lolita I'm reading.

My bus is running early. I might make the transfer with the #50! Alas, the #50 pulls away from the Cumberland Transfer Station as my bus pulls in. Couldn’t wait 30 more seconds! There’s not another #50 for an hour. Stay on the #10 and walk the extra distance to my destination. The bus driver explains this to me, but though it’s my first time in the state, I’m well aware of the schedules and intricacies of each route, perhaps more so than the driver. And 20 minutes later, as it starts to rain, under the darkness of night, I disembark in front of the U-Haul center and began my trek. One other person gets off where I do, but a friend is waiting in her car to pick her up. I’m only going .57 miles down the road, and I think about asking them for a lift. But instead I keep walking towards S. Marietta Highway and hang a right.

And if I looked out of place on the bus, I can’t imagine how I must look now. A drifter walking down the highway with a bag slung over my shoulder, and a knapsack on my back. They don’t see this everyday. Damn Yankee! A car has to wait for a pedestrian—me—to cross and it’s 9pm! But I can see a traffic light on the horizon and I know I’m on my home stretch. And nearly two hours after landing, I’m at my destination, which is NOT the Days Inn-Marietta, by the way. Nazareth Shopping Center, an ethnic strip mall at the intersection of S. Marietta and N. Franklin. Tasty China!

…

My plan was to originally head straight to my hotel, but that was before I consulted Chowhound as to whether any noteworthy dinners could be had in Marietta, and Tasty China was the answer.

Back in 2006 in the DC burbs, a man named Peter Chang became a legend on the DC food scene. With a pedigree that included the Chinese Embassy in Washington and Beijing's Dynasty Hotel before that, Chang quicly became known by those in the know as a cuilinary master, albeit one with a wandering wok. His combination of a mastery of the region's numbing cuisine paired with his inventive style dazzled diners at China Star in Fairfax, then TemptAsian by the Landmark Mall. A treasure of Chowhounders and DonRockwellians, it was soon after his March '06 move to China Boy that the WaPo and Washingtonian began to take notice and the mainstream diner began flocking to the unassuming Chinese joint for food that was anything but. Months later he was on the move again and seemingly gone from the area. A true loss...and I never even got to try the place. That autumn surfaced in some random suburb of Atlanta. So much for that. Or so I thought.

That random suburb? Yep, Marietta. My trip to the land of the strip mall? By chance, I had struck food gold.

...

It was certainly no surprise that Chang was long gone from Tasty China. "He left long ago," said my waitress, who doubled as the owner. "That man cannot stay put. Gotta move around." She had no idea where he was. Back to DC, please! Knowing that he was gone before I arrived, I was no less excited to check the place out. The JEDI master (the restaurant discribes Chang as such on an old menu) has taught his apprentice well.

Salt and Pepper Eggplant is a revelation. “Salt and Pepper” meaning deep fried on many Asian menus, you’ll get a heaping plate of what look like breaded steakhouse cut french fries. The starch of the eggplant holds up to the fryer while making more of a nuanced fry than a potato ever could. The salt and spicy pepper makes the strips explosive and addicting.

Fish and cilantro rolls return 6 fried cigars of white fish and the loved or loathed herb. Greasy, thin papers are wrapped around minced white fish, making something that tastes like crunchy fish balls. The fish flavor dominates the cilantro, leaving no need for a dipping sauce, and it’s not served with one.

Dan Dan Noodles here are like Chinese spaghetti. The red chili sauce doesn’t shine past the mushy noodles and the sauce is more oil than chili pepper. I find the same thing when I try the Ma Po Tofu the next day. The red sauce that the dozens of white cubes of bean curd sits in looks ready to numb, but lacks much depth.

Fish with Green Onion is a star of the menu. White, moist fleshy chunks are perfectly fried in a salty, spicy, cumin breading. The blend is a Chang calling card. However, after a few pieces, the dish becomes too overpowering. Too many spices and far too much salt distract from the fish and dries the tongue. I put away a few pieces, but am happy to save the rest for leftovers. There’s only so much of the cumin you can eat in one sitting.
A dish being served with green pepper in a Chinese joint means cuts of the bland bell variety sautéed with chicken or beef. Not so here; Sautéed Green Pepper is one of the most boring sounding and tastiest dishes on the menu. It’s brought out to a table near me but returned to the kitchen. “Did they not order it,” I ask the owner/server, obviously hinting at something. “Oh, it was a mistake,” she replied. “That’s for the staff meal…I’ll bring you one to try.” The peppers are smaller and tastier than a bell pepper, slightly larger and much less fiery than a scotch bonnet. Cooked whole, seeds in, soft and wilting, swimming in a sweet soy marinade, I order a plate full the next time I’m at the restaurant.

I forget that Szechuan Chicken and Beef means deep fried, crispy meat when I order one order of each for a lunch party. The crispiness yields what can be thought of as “popcorn” beef and chicken. The peppercorns and salt are a recurring theme, but the taste is somewhat muted at the table, partly because of the temperature of the dish and partly because of all of the other flavors and heat from everything else. It’s not until I start snacking later that the explosive taste shines through.

A dense circular loaf of sesame bread provides either a foil for the spices on your tongue, or a medium to soak up even more of the sauces remaining on your plate. And if you can take the heat, you won’t want to let a single bite go to waste.

Video of Chang in the kitchen with his peppers (Atlanta Journal Constitution):
http://www.ajc.com/news/mplayer/m/6224

Tasty China

585 Franklin Road
Marietta, GA

(770)-419-9849

Horace & Dickie: Home of the Jumbo Fish Sandwich

The guys working the counter of Horace & Dickie are happy to banter with you as they deal their wares, mainly fried fillets of whiting by the thousands. “I’m gonna give you four small ones,” one says to the woman behind me on the line. “Why? You don’t like me.” “No, I like you fine,” he replies. Then, glancing over at the tall white guy sticking out like a sore thumb on the line [me], “I don’t like him.”

In jest, perhaps, but if read into, the four words speak volumes on what’s going on at this legendary neighborhood fish fry and the neighborhood that surrounds it. Horace & Dickie lies in the heart of the neighborhood known as H Street Northeast, one of DC’s gentrification capitals. Around the corner from its spartan digs on a 12th street corner sit no less than 5 new bars: Palace of Wonders, The Red and the Black, The Martini Lounge, The Pug, and Granville Moore’s, all part of a redevelopment of the area. They all cater to a mostly white clientele in the traditionally black neighborhood. Folks that look more like me are moving in, and it is changing the face of the place.

But it doesn’t seem to change the face or the size of the line at Horace & Dickies. There’s a line out the door to go with the fishy aroma whaffing from the 4 deep fryers inside. And everyone’s there for the same thing—mammoth portions of fried fish. The centerpiece of the menu is the Four Piece Fish Sandwich ($5.29). Crab cakes, fried shrimp and seafood, and fried chicken are the other mains on the menu, with fries, potato salad and coleslaw, collards, and mac & cheese all available as sides for $1.65.

The line moves fast, partly because with the volume they’re doing, they’re not cooking to order. Baskets of already fried fish, chicken, and fries await. Place your order (and most people go for the Four Piece), choose white or wheat, and the scene plays out. Swath of foil. Two slices of bread. At least 4 fillets plopped on top. The guy at the counter will present your order to you for approval before they wrap it in foil. Gotta make sure you’re getting your fair share! One tartar sauce and one hot sauce come standard. If you want any extra, that’ll be 11 cents, but I find the amount given to be enough.

No counter, no bar stool, no room to eat inside. It’s strictly take out. I find it hard to make it back to my car. The bag is that heavy! And the smell makes you want to tear it open and start eating right away. The serving is mammoth, seemingly well more than 4 pieces. The fish is as white and moist as I’d hoped and the light cornmeal breading lends a slight crunch and flavor to the mild fish. Not a sandwich in the traditional sense of the word, I explore a few different eating methods. Dip a chunk in the tartar sauce. Balance a few pieces on a flimsy slice of the bread. Don’t try to actually put all of the fish between the two slices. It’ll be twice the size of a Dagwood. Because the food is not cooked to order, the batter tends to be a bit soggy, which greatly takes away from what would be an otherwise superlative cheap eat. Nevertheless, I scarf down the whole thing, but the sandwich could be easily shared by 2 hungry people. At Horace & Dickie, you're in for some pretty good fish, but above all, you’re getting quantity.

Horace & Dickie
809 12th Street, NE
Washington, DC 20002

(202)-397-6040

Grand Sichuan House - Brooklyn

On Location - Bay Ridge, Brooklyn

Grand Sichuan House may be the only bastion of the cuisine in Brooklyn. Yes, there are probably countless joints with the word Szechuan in their name or on their menu. But they’re not numbing their customers with the cuisine’s namesake peppercorns. They’re not serving up ma po or chengdu or chong qing style preparations. Triple Delight, Sesame Beef, and Pork Lo Mein does not a Sichuan kitchen make.

Yet far out in Bay Ridge, removed from Brooklyn Chinatown's 8th avenue, removed from the sophisticated palates of the northern nabes, sits this new venerable eatery and when I’m visiting home in Brooklyn, I’m there every chance I get to work my way through the menu. Lunch and dinner specials, served with fried rice and soup, feature mostly their mainstream Americanized fare. But I do find Ma Po Tofu on the list for $4.99, a benchmark dish for me. I ask for an authentic preparation, not wanting a dumbed down version; the menu offers to modify spices to suit tastes, but I want it tarted up, not down. I can notice the extra grinds of pepper on top. The sauce is a little thicker than I’m used to and the pepper is enough to make me tear. On another visit, the broth of a huge bowl of sour cabbage and bean curd soup ($3.95) is tart and addicting, and enough for several portions worth. Dan Dan Noodles ($3.95) are among the best I’ve had, specks of meat adding depth to the simple dish, the fiery broth attacking the tongue, just as with the wontons in red chili oil. The thin yellow wrappers of the Wontons w. Red Oil ($4.25) hold a tasty morsel of meat and the incendiary liquid evoking tears and a suitable numb tongue.

Quality of the entrees have ranged from suitable to well above average. When I try to order Smoked Tea Duck, I’m steered instead to Shredded Duck with Spring Ginger ($13.95)—the same duck but prepared with the ginger as a house specialty. A rich smoky flavor permeates the dark stringy strips of the bird, some lean, some with the fatty skin (a good thing) still clinging to the meat, though some shreds are a little hard to chew. The ginger and greens balance the dish well. What’s more exquisite than the duck is the over-the-top garnish resting next to it on the plate. I’ve seen flowers or scorpions carved out of carrots before. But skewered into a half pumpkin is a veritable bouquet—a beet rose, a carrot tulip, a blossoming leek, a sprig of rosemary, and more—making the plate come alive and make me feel loved by the chef! Does this art come standard or is it the fact that despite living out of town, I’ve become one of their best customers?

Sauteed Pea Shoots w. Fresh Garlic ($10.95) are a great veggie balance to a Chinese meal, but not found on many menus. The shoots are like spinach but with a long stalk and thinner leaves, and they're cooked perfectly here. A Beef and Turnip Hotpot ($9.50) shows up at the table still sizzling and the rich broth and root veggies make for a rib-sticking, soul-warming winter dish. But the beef can be a bit tough to chew, especially with several pieces still attached to strips of tendon. The meat of the Chong Qing Spicy Chicken ($10.95) is greasy and just doesn’t taste that fresh. Yet I’m eager to continue to sample the extensive special menu, laid out in pictures. Several enticing whole fish preparations are slightly more expensive than the rest of the menu at $16.95. I’d be more enticed to try one if a fish tank were visible in the dining room, but the waitress recommends several options. I’ve never seen loofa on a menu, but the Sauteed Sponge Gourd ($8.95) looked delicious on another diners table, part slimy, part avocado.

I just hope I get a chance to try more and continue my patronage. The restaurant has been entirely or mostly empty upon each of my visits and they don’t seem to be making up for it in significant takeout or delivery sales. This wasn’t surprising for my Christmas Eve Chinese meal, but their slow business on a Friday night was disheartening. Perhaps they can get by selling the standard Americanized fare. But I’m not sure that Bay Ridge is the best market for the unique menu they’re offering. Much cheaper to open up shop on 5th Ave and 87th St than 7th Avenue in Park Slope, but I’d venture that there’s more diners and dollars there that are willing and eager to try this ‘new’ type of Chinese food.

Grand Sichuan has a small sushi bar, and the sushi dinner we tried was okay. But I’d always advise saving sushi ordering for a place that specializes in the stuff and sells in high volume. GSH does not, and you’re here for Sichian anyway! Yet the sushi panders to a diner who wants only what they know—sushi, General Tso’s, beef with broccoli—but is unwilling to explore the strengths of the restaurant. And after one local resident leaves to pickup his order, the always friendly waitress tells me he orders the same thing every time: crispy fried pig intestines. Maybe there is hope! And with the closest Sichuan presumably in Flushing, perhaps this humble eatery can draw adventure seekers from the rest of the borough.

Grand Sichuan House

8701 5th Avenue

Brooklyn, NY 11209

(718)-680-8887

Charlie Palmer DC: Restaurant Week 2008

My evening at Charlie Palmer’s was everything and more than I expected, and I’ve never read a bad review. While Bryan Vottaglio’s food shines, the desserts excel and it’s the service and personal touches that star. And Charlie really wants you to get to know his family. Three gracious hosts wait at the host stand to greet us and send us to two more young women to take our coats. But just like the rest of the involved dinner service, the staff involvement is more welcoming than intrusive. A maitre’d apologizes for our [short] wait, escorts us past the rectangular pond upon which the massive wine cube sits, and switches out the white napkins on our table for black ones—the better to match our outfits. There’s the water girl. The bread guy. The woman who seems to be our waitress but maybe is just the silverware person? The waiter and the busser. There’s sommelier Nadine Brown who chats us up about the wine list and offers us special pours of a grassy, vibrant sparkling wine from New Mexico (to honor Bill Richardson who just dropped out of the presidential race) along with a full bodied, earthy, complex Syrah from Idaho. The wine list is all American and features selections from 47 states. Pacing is impeccable. Yes, there are a lot of people waiting on us. But when the busser clears the dinner plates, there’s no one following on his heels to lay dessert upon us. We’re allowed to linger for a few minutes, enjoying what we ate and anticipating for the next course. No one’s rushing us through our meal and out the door.

A spoonful of salmon tartar, full of flavor, starts things off on the right note. I start with
a marinated grilled octopus salad which includes four of the little guys. There’s no resistance or rubbery texture to the cephalopods; they're cooked perfectly. The strip loin is a restaurant week cut, so I’m not expecting the kitchen’s best. Ordered medium rare, it arrives looking like a seared tuna…the outside is the only part that looks cooked. Just as well for me—I’m okay with rare— though my knife has a little trouble coming through. Either the meat could have been more tender or the knife sharper. The mashed potatoes are smooth, though most noteworthy because they’re purple. On the side, shredded haricots verts add a great crunch and color contrast to the straw mushrooms they’re sautéed with.

Cheesecake is perhaps the silkiest I’ve ever had; the fork glides through it almost like it’s a cheese mouse. The Chocolate and Hazelnut Pave appears so small. It ends up being more than enough; it’s one of the richest and most delicious 1”x4” inch rectangles you’ll ever encounter. And you need not wait for restaurant week to have a value meal at CP. The choices offered during the week are offered year round for lunch only at $20.08 for three courses.

We were thoroughly impressed at this point. I'm not sure if we got the VIP treatment or if CP is this hospitable to all guests. But our bill arrives with a set of 4 complementary confections! A raspberry gelle candy takes the cake. The lemon merengue cookies, dense chocolate truffles, and homemade marshmellow make the plate an embarassment of riches.

The restaurant’s view of the Capitol is what clinches the place as a top flight dining experience. I knew the sommelier, but many reviews mention how eager the staff is to share their grand view with diners. Ask and ye shall be whisked to the top of the United Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiner’s home to one of the most exquisite rooftop views of the city. Blocks from the Capitol, the view of the dome is unbeatable, a point blank birds eye view, level with the rotunda. It’s a cold January night, but one can imagine the power receptions held up here every night of the spring and summer.

Charlie Palmer Steak
101 Constitution Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20001

http://www.charliepalmer.com/steak_dc/intro.html