Habibi wrote:I don't think the soup dumplings in Flushing are trip-worthy if you won't be in the neighborhood. The ones I had at Nan Xiang in Flushing, purportedly the city's best, were only marginally better than some I've had in Manhattan's Chinatown, namely at New Green Bo, Shanghai Cafe and Joe's Ginger.
I will have to check 456 out sometime.
Paul SL wrote:My go-to place for XLB is Shanghai Asian Cuisine on Elizabeth Street. Don't be fooled by the nondescript, coffee shop vibe-- you'll find some really satisfying dumplings. They're not as delicate looking as Nan Jian, but the skin is pleasantly chewy and (to my taste, at least) the broth is the richest and most flavorful of any I've tried. On some days, the pork could use a bit more spice but overall, they're the best soup dumplings I've found outside of Queens.
Shanghai Asian Cuisine
14 Elizabeth St
(between Bayard St & Canal St)
kathryn wrote:
"Chewy" skins? Sounds suspect to me.
A proper XLB should have perilously thin skins that aren't doughy, with a good amount of soup that isn't too heavy or greasy. Most XLB in NYC are more oily because they are copying Joe's Shanghai.
Habibi wrote:I really like Joe's Ginger, but I may be in the minority here. I've always thought the broth was pleasantly fatty and the crab flavor prominent.
Geo wrote: Moreover, because of the limited availabilty of refrigeration during the era when beer began to be popular in China, there was never any exposure to our American [and it IS American--no one else in the world (except maybe Oz) chills beer like we do] penchant for ice-cold beer.
On the way home, hanging from the sack on the handlebars, the beer warmed up just a bit. And that's what beer drinkers got used to!
Geo
JeffB wrote:around South America and the Caribbean, cold beer is pretty common and is sometimes taken to extremes
Khaopaat wrote:Habibi wrote:Still, for the delicious crab & pork XLB, and the fact that we were able to stroll past the mob scene in front of Joe's Shanghai and immediately get seated, I was totally down with Joe's Ginger.
JeffB wrote:Geo wrote: Moreover, because of the limited availabilty of refrigeration during the era when beer began to be popular in China, there was never any exposure to our American [and it IS American--no one else in the world (except maybe Oz) chills beer like we do] penchant for ice-cold beer.
On the way home, hanging from the sack on the handlebars, the beer warmed up just a bit. And that's what beer drinkers got used to!
Geo
That's fascinating- in China talking mass-brewing in the late 80's sounds like a good book premise. I would add a twist and agree that ice cold brew is American in the braoder, more correct sense past US borders. Canada, sure, but around South America and the Caribbean, cold beer is pretty common and is sometimes taken to extremes. For example, Presidente, the Dominican national beverage, is marketed as bien fria and the chest coolers are set to keep the beer cold enough that they often freeze up once opened. Tap beer on the beach in Brazil (choppe) is served remarkably cold, and Argentine temps are similar, IIRC. I've never really had a warm beer in Mexico, either, though I've mostly been in relatively tourist friendly zones. Guatemalan and Costa Rican beer - cold.
kathryn wrote:Khaopaat wrote:Habibi wrote:Still, for the delicious crab & pork XLB, and the fact that we were able to stroll past the mob scene in front of Joe's Shanghai and immediately get seated, I was totally down with Joe's Ginger.
Have you tried Chinatown Brasserie or RedFarm's XLB yet?
kathryn wrote:Have you tried Chinatown Brasserie or RedFarm's XLB yet?
kathryn wrote:Joe Ng is the chef at both Chinatown Brasserie and Red Farm (he was previously at Wong Tong in Brooklyn's Chinatown). The dim sum and xiao long bao are excellent at both. CB also does a great peking duck. Chinatown Brasserie is in Noho and Red Farm is in the West Village. I think Chef Ng is raising the bar in Manhattan for dim sum and XLB. I think his XLB are better than 456 and Nan Xiang. I do not find it all that pricey for the quality of the dishes.