The Weekly Review
By Susan Dyer Reynolds

Xiao Long Bao Under Five Bucks is the Real Boon at Shanghai Dumpling King

What Americans affectionately call soup dumplings are actually a Shanghai specialty known as xiao long bao, a type of baozi, or filled bun. The best I’ve had are at Yank Sing, but then again, it’s tough for many restaurants, Chinese or otherwise, to compare with Yank Sing, which rates as one of my top 10 restaurants in the entire Bay Area. Still, xiao long bao are tough to come by, and good ones nearly impossible. At Shanghai Dumpling King, you will find the second best version in San Francisco, and they are dirt-cheap (10 juicy pieces for $4.95).

The key to great xiao long bao is the skin — it must be nearly translucent, but not so thin that it breaks when you pick it up with your chopsticks, thus spilling the liquid gold inside. The broth starts as a gelatin, usually made with agar-agar (a polysaccharide found in the cell walls of some red algae), cut into cubes. The filling for classic xiao long bao is a mixture of ground pork, green onions, ginger, rice wine, sesame oil, soy sauce, and sugar. (In the town of Nanxiang where they were invented, a fancier version includes crab roe.) The thin dough envelops the gelatin and filling, pinched at the top to resemble a pointy chef’s toque.

With proper xiao long bao, when you pick up the pouch by its pointy top, the soup and filling within should weigh it down, creating a teardrop shape. The ritual is simple: gently place it on a spoon, allowing the pasta purse to flatten again, and drizzle it with Chinkiang (a vaguely sweet and smoky black rice vinegar) peppered with fresh ginger slivers. I start by nipping off the tip to release the steam and allow it to cool for a moment (otherwise you will be peeling skin off the roof of your mouth for a month). The gelatin broth melts when the dumpling is steamed, creating a burst of hot broth around the texture of the rich filling intermingled with the tangy sauce. The first time I had soup dumplings at Yank Sing was a revelation. The second time at Shanghai Dumpling King didn’t come with the same element of surprise, except when I saw the bill — two of us gorged ourselves for under $20, and we ate more than a bamboo basket full of xiao long bao.

Another must-try is the “lion heads” ($7.95) — three huge meatballs, each the size of an orange. Made from a combination of pork, garlic, green onions, and crunchy water chestnuts, they are surprisingly light and fluffy inside, and are pan-seared to create a caramelized crust, then braised in soy gravy. You can also order them in an equally decadent soup with Chinese cabbage and vermicelli noodles ($9.95).

The list of soups is extensive — from ubiquitous wonton to more exotic sautéed eel; pork with preserved vegetables, and smoked fish. (On the specials’ board, you might find tripe with green onions or spicy tendon.) Heaping hot bowls range in price from $4.95 to $7.95 and easily feed four people as a starter or two people as a main course. One of the most stellar soups is easily missed because the description, “hot and spicy beef stew in noodles,” is misleading. I noticed a couple slurping away on a bowl of it during one visit and asked what it was. The “stew” is actually strips of tender beef in a light and lovely broth with thin, chewy egg noodles (I ordered it mild; the spicy version will definitely clear your sinuses).

Besides the famous xiao long bao, the menu features 23 additional baozi, from petite pan-fried pot stickers (8 for $4.95) to hung zhou (pork and crab) dumplings (8 for $8.95) to sweet or savory soybean milk ($1.25/$1.50 each). The spicy chive and pork dumplings (10 for $4.95) are a perfect bite, just spicy enough, and served with a sauce of hot oil and vinegar dotted with sesame seeds, chili flakes and green onions. They also include the green onion pancakes ($4.65) in the bun and dumplings category — a lot of regulars order these, but I found them a tad too greasy and starchy. I also pass on the thick, slippery stir-fried Shanghai-style noodles, another popular item, for the same reasons.

No matter how full I am, it is simply not an option to pass on the “sugar egg puffs” (3 for $2.95), essentially giant doughnut holes. Fresh from the fryer and buried under an avalanche of sugar, the softball-sized wonders are airy and warm with a moist, eggy center. I've had the puffs at quite a few places, and the ones at Shanghai Dumpling King are the best. People do rave about the sugar egg puffs at Koi Palace in Daly City, so, in the interest of fairness, I went and checked them out. In my opinion, they don’t compare — not nearly as light and a lot greasier. In fact, for all the great word of mouth Koi Palace gets, I found myself disappointed in almost every dish, including the xiao long bao, which were not delicate and juicy, but rather chewy and dry. Koi Palace is a Hong Kong–Cantonese restaurant, whereas Yank Sing and Dumpling King are Shanghaiese, which could account (at least in part) for their expertise with the Shanghai specialties. But even with the special dishes aside, I’ll take Shanghai Dumpling King any day based on my recent experience at Koi Palace, and the prices are better to boot. (If I’m going to spend top dollar, I’m going to Yank Sing.)

The service at Shanghai Dumpling King is friendly and as casual as the ambiance — it’s better on a slow weekday afternoon than during a dinner or weekend rush, but the food always arrives quickly and the quality is consistent. Parking is usually a breeze, too; even on a Saturday at 1 p.m., we found a space just a block away with little effort. There can be a wait for tables during peak times, but the line moves at a good pace. Let’s face it, if I had to drive around the block 30 times, wait an hour, and the dishes were thrown at me, it would be worth it for those soupy dumplings and sugary puffs.

Shanghai Dumpling King
3319 Balboa St. (at 34th), 415-387-2088, Sunday through Thursday 10:30 a.m. to 9:15 p.m.; Friday and Saturday 10 a.m. to 9:30 p.m.; closed Tuesdays

Two-and-a half diamonds


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Dishing with... Chef Mourad Lahlou
By Susan Dyer Reynolds

When Gary Danko threw a birthday party for a staff member, he did it at Aziza. When Jacques Pepin had a birthday recently, it was Aziza that he came to (after flying in from Connecticut). Mourad Lahlou is a chef’s chef.
           
Lahlou didn’t take the typical path to professional cookery, attending culinary school and working his way up a longtime dream. Instead, he came to the United States in the mid-80s to study macroeconomics at San Francisco State University and began cooking the comfort food he missed from home. He started with his mother’s traditional recipes and added touches he picked up from living in California. He shared his cooking with friends and received his master’s degree in economics, intending to pursue a Ph.D. But seeing how much people enjoyed his food (and realizing how much he enjoyed making it) took him away from academia and set him on a path to becoming a restaurateur.

Gaining national recognition for his modern interpretations of Moroccan cuisine, the Marrakech native had a successful run with the acclaimed Kasbah in San Rafael, which he opened in 1997. Feeling constrained by the ultra-traditional feel of the restaurant and the food, he spent two years searching for a San Francisco location. “Originally we wanted to be in the Mission,” Lahlou says. “But it was really hot. With the Slanted Door, it was really taking off, and we couldn’t afford it. I worried about this place being so far out. People would have to come just for this, because there’s not a lot else around here.”

His fears were unfounded — after opening in 2001, Aziza gained an instant following; an oasis on Geary Street. The decor is at once sexy and exotic, comfortable and relaxed, much like the food — and its chef.

Sunday, March 1, Lahlou reigned supreme on Food Network’s popular series, Iron Chef America, beating Iron Chef Cat Cora with a score of 54 to 45 in “Battle Redfish.”

Restaurant: Aziza, 5800 Geary Blvd. (near 25th), San Francisco, 415-752-2222

Food style: Lahlou says his style is Bay area: “Not California — I think it’s short-sighted to call it California. The food in San Francisco is different than in Santa Rosa or Carmel; then there is L.A., which is totally different from here. It’s not Mediterranean or Moroccan, either. My roots are in Morocco — it’s what I smelled and ate for 17 years. But I’ve live in San Francisco 23 years; that’s why I say my style is Bay Area.”

Upcoming projects: Lahlou is currently in negotiations to become one of the Food Network’s Iron Chefs (though he’s not sure he wants to be away from his restaurant the required five to six weeks per year required for filming); helping his friend, the talented James Syhabout, formerly of PlumpJack Cafe (for about two minutes) and Manresa in Los Gatos, open his own restaurant in Oakland called Commis (set to open later this year).

Fun facts: He once ran buck naked through the hallway at the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas: “I don’t know why…it was Vegas. It seemed like something you should do.”

He spent Thanksgiving with a group that included world-renowned chef Thomas Keller: “It was great to see him with this big pot whipping up mashed potatoes.”

What is the last thing you cooked for yourself?
Dry-aged rib eye steak grilled over mesquite with trumpet mushrooms; I had an arugula salad and polenta on the side. I don’t cook at home very often, though a couple of weeks ago my friends Eric and Ruthie, who own Sketch in Berkeley — they make the best ice cream! — and Lawrence and Allyson, who own NOPA, came over and we made parsnip soup, grilled quail with lamb sauce, lamb sausage; we had cheese, I brought Aziza spreads, and Ruthie and Eric brought these macaroons and black pepper meringues they make at Sketch — it was amazing.

What is your favorite food from your childhood?
Whole milk and honey — my mom would give it to me chilled. I’ve even asked Harold McGee to look into what it is about that combination that makes it so good. I still make it, but I use honeycomb in the milk — I get it from Marshall’s at the Ferry Building farmers’ market, or from Queen of Sheba at the Oakland farmers’ market.

How would you describe working in your kitchen?
Really hard — I’ll be honest. I demand a lot of discipline and perfection; I know it’s stupid to ask for perfection, but it pushes people. I ask the same of myself. I still cook on the line — I want the line cooks to be better than me. If I can jump in and make something on the line better, I didn’t do my job teaching them. Most of my staff has been here 10 or 12 years, I think because they’re always learning; growing; challenged. They are my family.

Something in your ’fridge or freezer that would surprise people?
Sriracha [Thai chili sauce] — it’s really cool.

What was your worst kitchen experience?
It was Valentine’s Day — you want to make it a great experience for people to help them get laid that night [smiles]. We had great ingredients — oysters, everything was perfect — and then the power went off. Only the gas ovens worked. The ice cream was melting. The hood was out, so there was no ventilation in the kitchen and we were sweating like pigs. But we improvised; and we pulled it off — no one left.

What is the last restaurant you ate at?
The opening party of Nopalita — it was some of the best Mexican food I’ve had; tacos with lamb, beef, goat … But as far as an official meal, it would be Coi. I love Daniel. I see him five days a week at the farmers’ markets — I spend more time with him than with my girlfriend. I remember his wife Alexandra gave birth on a Tuesday and Thursday he was at the market. I asked him what he was doing there so soon, and he said, “The restaurant’s still open …” He’s obsessed!

If you retired tomorrow, what dish would you be remembered for?
Squab with ras el hanout — it’s a Moroccan spice blend that, depending on the preparer, can contain between 12 and 120 ingredients, so it always tastes different.

What is your favorite offal?
Lamb kidneys. And brains — I had it at the taco truck yesterday: three tacos — brains, tongue and tripe.

What is your favorite staff meal?
Elvin[’s] — he’s my main line cook. He started as a dishwasher 10 years ago. He’s assigned staff meal on Thursdays. Also Abi, another one of my line cooks. They’ll do sous vide chicken legs, Guatemalan stew with couscous. I don’t know what it is about Guatemalans; why is it that they can cook Moroccan food better than Moroccans? They can literally cook anything, and cook it amazing.

What is your ultimate fantasy meal?
It would be put together by a bunch of people — Paula Wolfert would be there; Daniel Patterson, Lawrence Jossel. It would be all of us just cooking … with Bob Marley.

Have a favorite chef you’d like to see interviewed? Send your suggestions to susan@yummyletter.com

– Susan

The Penny-Pincher: Okazu Ya
2447 Noriega St. (at 32nd), 415-661-5783, San Francisco
1735 Taraval St. (at 28th), 415-759-6850, San Francisco
914 Clement St. (at 10th), 415-668-1638, San Francisco

I have loved Okazu Ya since a friend took me to the original Taraval location — a diminutive box with only 10 tables — over 15 years ago. You had to walk through the kitchen to use the restroom, and when it was busy (which was most of the time), the windows would steam up like a sauna. Since then, the owners have added two more San Francisco locations, and over the last several years, the Taraval spot (still my favorite of the three) has been remodeled from shab and drab to chic and sleek.

The special fish platter is one of my top penny-pincher meals in the entire City — a well-worn cast-iron skillet set in a wooden charger arrives at your table sizzling and steaming with lightly battered filets atop a mixture of crunchy bean sprouts, peas and carrots, all resting on a bed of caramelized onions. The juices from the fish meld with the delicate soy-based sauce, allowing the natural flavors to shine. The selection of fish depends on what’s fresh and in season — on a recent visit, my dining companion chose locally caught halibut while I went with petrale sole.

The generous portions of fish also come with rice, miso soup and ice cream and run just $9.95 to $14.95 (with the majority priced at $12.95). You’ll also find some nice sushi and sashimi — check the white board for unique items like sea snail or incredibly fresh Monterey spot prawn among the day’s selection. The toro is a deal — two luscious, buttery pieces that would cost upward of $13 other places are under $8 here.

Fab Five…California Crab Salad Temaki
By Susan Dyer Reynolds

Trevor Corson is best known for his fascinating bestseller, The Secret Life of Lobsters; he also authored another great book called The Story of Sushi: An Unlikely Saga of Raw Fish and Rice, a must-read for anyone who loves sushi. Along with curious cocktail party trivia (“The raw shrimp served in sushi all begin life as males —  then they all suddenly become females and have sex with their younger siblings.”), the book is filled with interesting tidbits about sushi (which actually refers to the seasoned rice), ranging from proper etiquette (aficionados never look at a menu, seldom use chopsticks, and avoid soy sauce and extra wasabi) to preparation (traditionalists say the fish should never be raw — nor should it be completely fresh) to its origin (today’s sushi began as a type of fast food — the 19th-century Japanese equivalent of a McDonald’s drive-thru).

The book also delves into America’s love affair with sushi as a healthful option — it’s not. In fact, Corson says, most sushi rolls served in the U.S. are loaded with carbohydrates, sugar, fat, and sodium. Inside-out rolls, which are the most common form of sushi found here, only debuted recently in Japan, and they were imported from us.

America’s most popular incarnation, the California roll, first appeared in the late 1960s at the premier Japanese restaurant in Los Angeles, Tokyo Kaikan. The creation of chef Ichiro Mashita, contrary to popular belief, it was not an attempt to introduce American palates to sushi, but rather came about as most regional cuisines do — out of necessity: Mashita had trouble obtaining fresh fatty tuna belly (toro) on a regular basis, but avocados were readily available by the truckloads. Since avocados are full of fat, he saw the savory fruit as a good substitute. According to Corson, the chef first tried mixing it with shrimp to give it the reddish hue and flavor of seafood, but later settled on crabmeat. He served it traditionally — ingredients and rice inside seasoned seaweed (nori) — to his Japanese customers, a reminder of the fatty tuna back home (several months later, someone came up with the moniker “California roll”).

As sushi morphed into American culture, the inside-out style was developed to hide the seaweed, something I don’t understand, since the crispness of the seaweed is integral to its enjoyment. My favorite way to eat a California roll is temaki, or hand roll — a cone of nori filled with rice, crab, avocado, and Japanese cucumber. I don’t like “kani kama,” the imitation crab served at most sushi restaurants, made from minced fish, egg whites, starches, a bit of crab extract, and MSG (listed just ahead of many other ingredients with long, scientific names). While I enjoy Dungeness crab and King crab steamed and served with lemon and drawn butter, my preference in a California roll is snow crab for its delicate, sweet flavor. And, while I know this sends shivers down the spines of California roll traditionalists, I like it mixed with just enough Japanese mayonnaise to create a crab salad — hey, if you’re going to go California, you might as well go all the way. Here are five of my favorites:

5. Taraval Okazu Ya Restaurant
1735 Taraval St., San Francisco,
415-759-6850

Number five on my list also happens to be this week’s Penny Pincher, Okazu Ya. The crab mixture is a little dense and I don’t like the lettuce (I feel about lettuce in sushi the way I do about it in burritos — it adds texture but nothing else); however, they get bonus points for a generous spoonful of tobiko that adds a wonderful brininess to the sweetness of the crab and the nuttiness of the avocado.

4. Miyake
140 University Ave., Palo Alto, 650-323-9449
10650 S. De Anza Blvd., Cupertino, 408-253-2668

I will always have a special place in my heart for Miyake in Palo Alto where, as a kid, I had my first sushi experience — in fact, the first thing I ate was their California roll. It was a revelation, full of fresh snow crab mixed with a little mayonnaise (and, according to the sushi chef, a bit of sugar). They opened another near Apple Computer Inc. headquarters, and when I worked there during college, I made frequent visits to that location as well. Though the crab salad can be a bit too sweet occasionally, it is generally consistent (and consistently inexpensive). 

 

3. Isobune
1737 Post St., San Francisco, 415-563-1030
1451 Burlingame Ave., Burlingame, 650-344-8433

Isobune (“canal boat”) patented their “Sushi Delivery System” in 1982, becoming the first sushi boat restaurant in the U.S. The original location is tucked inside the Kintetsu Mall of Japantown; the Burlingame spot followed a year later. They cater to tourists, but locals know where to find a bargain. When it’s busy, order from the boats floating by, but I prefer to place my order with the sushi chef or wait staff, and the main reason I go is the California hand roll, made with loads of fresh crab salad, perfectly ripe avocado, and perky cucumber (most of the time — occasionally the cucumber is not so perky). For an added twist, they do a version with barbecued eel (unagi).

 

2. Hotaru
33 E. 3rd Ave., San Mateo, 650-343-1152

What sets this crab salad hand roll apart from the crowd is the chunks of crab (a lot of places mix it almost into a paste), a light hand with the mayo, and the price — around $3 for a good-sized cone. I guess you could call San Mateo the California crab salad hand roll capital of the Bay Area, since Hotaru is on the same street as our winner.

 

1. Sushi Sam’s
218 E. 3rd Ave, San Mateo,
650-344-0888

I first discovered Sushi Sam’s over a decade ago while working as a temp for Pacific Bell. I loved it so much that I ate there every single day (except Mondays, when they’re closed) for three months. As busy as I am, I still try to make a trip there at least once a month, and I’m not alone — ask top chefs like Thomas Keller, Laurent Manrique and Ron Siegel where they go for sushi and they’ll tell you Sushi Sam’s. Over the last few years, Sam’s has expanded into the building next door and become a household name to Bay Area sushi lovers. Named for owner Osamu (“Sam”) Sugiyama, the casual ambiance and reasonable prices are polar opposites from the dining experience — not only does Sam get sparklingly fresh seafood, he features some unusual and hard-to-find seafood (like fresh unagi from a retired eel farmer in Japan). But one of my favorite things is his California hand roll, made with snow crab salad in perfect proportion to room-temperature rice, crisp Japanese cucumber, and creamy avocado. The nori is the crispest you’ll find, meaning it is firm enough to hold the contents of the cone, but not so tough that you have to pull at it with your teeth to break into it (thus spilling the contents all over the table).

– Susan