You know when you’re craving pizza but really want surfer/skater-esque California 1990s music to go along with it? Yeah, me neither, until the first time I ate at Golden Boy Pizza. Tucked away in the hills of San Francisco’s North Beach, Golden Boy Pizza serves pizza up by the slice, and with a soundtrack to boot.
The vibe is super casual at Golden Boy Pizza: you line up, you order your pizza (and beer or soda) and you take a seat at the bar. There’s no table seating here, and the space is small and loud, but the pizza hits the spot. Their super-cheesy clam and garlic pizza is a standout, though the sausage pizza is solid too.
An auxiliary benefit to dining at Golden Boy Pizza is that I discovered I still remember the lyrics to nearly every Sublime, 311, and Weezer song that ever was. By the end of the meal, I was ready to dust off my Etnies and hop back on my old skateboard.
But back to the pizza: it’s not gourmet, it’s cash only, and the line can get long, but it’s tasty. And perhaps most importantly, it’s nostalgic.
Ever since I saw Anthony Bourdain try xiaolongbao on an old episode of No Reservations, I’ve been smitten with trying the regional dumpling. Xiaolongbao, or Shanghai soup dumplings, are delicate flour dumplings filled with a solid meat aspic. After being steamed, the filling melts into a piping hot soup, perfect for dipping into the requisite vinegar-ginger sauce. If that doesn’t sound compelling, I question your taste buds.
Bund Shanghai in San Francisco’s Chinatown serves the best xiaolongbao I’ve sampled in the city. The filling is super flavorful and the dough is delicate but sturdy enough to encase the dumpling’s liquid gold inside.
But there’s so much more to Shanghai cuisine. On a recent visit, I sampled lion’s head meatballs, or meatballs stewed with soy sauce and bok choy. Covered in a savory, slightly sweet sauce, the leafy vegetable is meant to convey a lion’s mane.
The menu at Bund Shanghai is long and can be unfamiliar, but be adventurous. I tried the salted cabbage with bean curd skin on the recommendation of a colleague, and while the name doesn’t scream “eat me!” it’s now one of my favorite dishes at Bund Shanghai. The bean curd skin is translucent and noodle-like, while the salty cabbage adds a kick and fresh soybeans provide crunch.
Another dish I would have overlooked were it not for the recommendation of another colleague are the turnip puffs. This small plate is part of the lunch menu only, and is made with a peppery shredded turnip and meat filling encased in a light, flaky puff pastry.
While Bund Shanghai specializes in Shanghai-style cuisine, don’t overlook their other offerings. Bund Shanghai serves my favorite version of the Sichuanese dan dan noodles. It’s also the spiciest version of dan dan noodles I’ve tasted, so be prepared to break a sweat. For the uninitiated, dan dan noodles are noodles served in a blazingly spicy sauce containing preserved vegetables, ground meat, green onions, chili oil, and Sichuan peppers.
With a casual vibe and friendly service, Bund Shanghai has become one of my regular go-tos in San Francisco when I’m hungry. I may not have visited Shanghai yet, but at least I finally found my beloved soup dumplings — and much, much more at that.
Ma po tofu is ubiquitous on Chinese restaurant menus, but I never sampled the fiery, peppery dish until last year. It was mouth-numbingly hot, and it’s since become one of my favorite all-time dishes. As if to make up for lost time, I’ve spent the past few months eating ma po tofu constantly in restaurants and more recently, at home.
This homemade version of ma po tofu is just as delicious as what I’ve eaten from professional kitchens, and easy to cook. Ma po tofu is traditionally cooked with ground pork, but I substitute with chicken or turkey at home. The Sichuan peppercorns, however, are important to seek out as they’ll lend this dish that extra heat. It’s worth the pain (and slightly numb lips).
Ingredients:
3 dried shiitake mushrooms
6 ounces ground turkey
3 teaspoons soy sauce
4 teaspoons cornstarch
1 cup water
1/2 teaspoon sesame oil
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 teaspoon minced garlic
2 teaspoons hot bean paste
1/4 teaspoon toasted Sichuan peppercorns, ground
1/4 cup chopped water chestnuts
3 green onions, trimmed and cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1 14-ounce package soft tofu, drained and cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1. Pour enough warm water over the mushrooms in bowl to cover them completely. Soak until softened, about 20 minutes. Drain, discard the stems, and coarsely chop the caps.
2. Marinate the turkey: stir the ground turkey, 2 teaspoons of soy sauce, and 2 teaspoons of cornstarch together until evenly mixed. Let stand for 10 minutes.
3. Prepare the sauce:: stir the water, remaining two teaspoons soy sauce, and sesame oil together in a small bowl.
4. Heat a wok over high heat until hot. Add the oil and swirl to coat the sides. Add the garlic and stir-fry until fragrant, about 20 seconds. Add the turkey, hot bean paste, and Sichuan peppercorns and stir-fry until the turkey is crumbly, about 3 minutes.
5. Pour the sauce into the work, then stir in the mushrooms, water chestnuts and green onions. Slide the tofu into the work and stir gently to coat the tofu with the sauce and heat through, about 2 minutes.
6. In a small bowl, dissolve the remaining 2 teaspoons cornstarch in 2 teaspoons water. Pour the dissolved cornstarch into the wok and cook gently, stirring, until the sauce boils and thickens, about 1 minute. Spoon the tofu and sauce onto a serving platter and serve hot, alongside cooked rice.
Word on the street is that Daikokuya is the best ramen joint in Los Angeles. And by “street,” I mean Yelp. I ended up at Little Tokyo’s Daikokuya with my colleagues one evening, and unsurprisingly, the restaurant had a wait. After about thirty minutes, we were seated in one of Daikokuya’s casual, no-frills booths and handed a menu.
We started with a plate of pan-fried gyoza, crisped to perfection and covered in fragrant green onions. The gyoza wrappers were thinner than average, yet the filling managed to stay juicy.
Next came a plain shredded cabbage salad, followed by a tuna sashimi bowl. The tuna sashimi, which sat atop a layer of shredded nori and rice, served as a tasty but simple palate cleanser for what was the real star of the show: the daikoku ramen.
The daikoku ramen is the only ramen on the menu at daikokuya. Making the broth is purportedly a day-long process, beginning with boiling pork bones and culminating in a broth reduction and soy sauce infusion. Lovers of fatty broth will rejoice here, but it was a little too rich for my taste. Still, the quality is apparent, and the daikoku ramen includes a healthy serving of chewy noodles, pork belly, boiled egg, bamboo shoots, and bean sprouts.
So, is Daikokuya the best ramen in Los Angeles? It depends on how you like your ramen. Regardless, I left feeling happy and satisfied, and that’s what it’s really all about.
I can’t make a visit to Los Angeles without visiting Koreatown. As much as I hate to admit it, the Bay Area has nothing on LA when it comes to Korean restaurants, and the last time I visited, I checked out Soowon Galbi in the heart of K-town. My colleagues and I were famished, and the intoxicating aroma of barbecued meat and garlicy banchan added to the torture while we waited to be seated.
Once we were seated, the soju was flowing, and meat was ordered. And I mean lots of meat. One beef short rib, pork belly, beef brisket, beef rib eye, and two platters of bulgogi were ordered, along with rice, salad, and radish soup. And banchan. Oh how the banchan overfloweth.
For good measure, we also ordered a seafood pancake, because why not? If you’re gonna go, go all the way.
The meat at Soowon Galbi was without question among the best Korean barbecue I’ve had. Tender, juicy, and flavorful, we sopped up every last bit with rice and palate-cleansing bites of banchan and soup in between. The seafood pancake was chewy and crispy, as it should be.
We walked back to our hotel that evening, trekking an hour from Koreatown to downtown LA. I don’t really want to think about how many calories we consumed that evening, but I do know one thing: it was absolutely worth it.
