Adventures in Korean Food: Pa Jun, Take 1

AN ODD COMBINATION of Jeanie and Becky conspired to foster my newfound love for Korean food. A few years ago, it was Jeanie's office-talk of kim chee. Becky then returned from Seoul raving about bi bim bop. After recently having enjoyed the latter, I joined Jeanie in Koreatown for the former, and my obsession was complete. Jeanie's mother sent me the Cha family recipe for pa jun the next morning:

3/4 cup all purpose flour
1/4 cup rice flour
5 green onions
Water
Black pepper
Vegetable oil

"The secret to this recipe," wrote Jeanie's mom, "is to use very cold water," for a super-crispy texture. With this in mind, I put a chunk of ice in a glass of water and left it in my freezer while I sifted the flours and sliced the green onions (diagonally, into 1 1/2-inch pieces), then stirred all throughly with my super-cold water and pepper. Um, how much water?

On this matter, Mama Cha instructs to add water, "until the mixture is the consistency of thin pancake batter." This takes some fine-tuning, which is why this post is titled "Adventures in Korean Food" and not "RECIPE! Pa Jun." I used one cup of cold water. I felt this produced a "thin pancake batter" consistency. Of course, there's yet the matter of cooking the pa jun, so we're not out of the woods just yet.

Cooking is simple enough. Use enough vegetable oil to "thinly cover" the surface of your frying pan, heat the pan on medium-high, and drop in half the batter. Cook to golden brown; flip and cook other side accordingly. Keep the heat low to prevent burning. If this sounds familiar, the informally translated name for pa jun, "Korean pancake," suggests why.

My pancakes turned out a tad bland and a little too sticky. The first of these concerns was expected--I used no salt, seasonings, or the more traditional kim chee (spicy fermented cabbage) or marinated seafood on my first try; I tried a little garlic powder, salt, white pepper, and red pepper in the batter and the fried the second of my two attempted pancakes with a little sesame oil to boost its flavor.

As for the "too sticky," it seems to me that I need to use more water. I'll notch up my almost-frozen liquid content to 1 1/4 or 1 1/2 cups next time and see how that works. After that, all I need to do is chop some cabbage, buy some glass jars, and pickle me some kim chee. But that's an adventure for another day.

Bi Bim Bap'd!

Miyako
143 Berry Street
Brooklyn, NY 11211
(718) 486-0837

THIS EXPERIMENT IS beginning to take on a life of its own. In the beginning, I held absolutely zero intentions for where Mike Eats Food! was headed (aside from maintaining its admittedly self-indulgent premise), and to date I've only paused on a couple of occasions to reflect on perks or bouts of nostalgia thus associated with its expanding niche in my life. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, indeed.

If I had to do it again, I might have reflected a little longer on the commitment to photograph and write about every meal, you know, before agreeing with myself to do it. I certainly think myself was a little hasty in talking myself into this mess but as I told Aaron this past weekend after taking five pictures of a bowl of pad thai, "I've made my bed, and now I have to lay in it." Aaron remarked, rather sarcastically, that I had "found my calling." I think that might be a bit strong, but his point is pretty clear: for better or, mostly, I assume, for worse, the line between me and this blog is growing ever-thinner.

I'm not sure if I'm happy about that. But that's where I'm at. This was evidenced once again this evening as Becky and I were brainstorming to find a place for dinner before visiting Roxie, who was guest bar-keeping at Soft Spot. Roxie added to the conversation by email:

"Mikey is the one with the FOOD BLOG, so I'd let him take you somewhere. I do highly recommend Miyako, which I'm fairly certain Mikey doesn't know about. I could be wrong though...It's happened once before."

Thinking about it, I actually can't come up with time that Roxie has been wrong, and she wasn't wrong tonight either. Miyako, and it's equal parts Korean and Japanese menu, turned out to be a great choice. Becky has been raving about Korean food since her relatively recent trip to Seoul, and I still hadn't tried it myself. I don't believe Mint had either. So, ignoring Miyako's Japanese half (and Roxie's actual recommendation of sushi), Becky, Mint and I sat down for kim chee.

We ordered our kim chee, a.k.a. spicy cabbage, served up both cold and cooked in a soft pancake-type dish, pah jun. While the red pepper sauce on the kim chee could certainly have been spicier, I cannot imagine a more enjoyable start to the meal than the pah jun. I could have eaten the stuff all night, a point I repeatedly made clear to the amusement (and/or annoyance) of Becky and Mint.

Mint ordered for an entree ginger tofu; Becky and I ordered variations of tofu bi bim bap, hers served warm in a large bowl, mine in a cast iron pot, a dish called dol sut. I imagine the difference in taste was negligible, though the egg that arrived fried atop Becky's dish was poached atop mine. We poured our sesame oil and hot sauce over the neatly-arranged tofu, mushrooms, carrots, cabbage, and sprouts and stirred the concoction together, digging up from the bottom of the dish the rice and noodles, mine slightly burnt and crispy as they should be from the sizzling pot. (I think Mint kind of wanted to have fun stirring her dinner too, but ginger tofu is sadly not something you want to smash up with a spoon.)

Left to right: Bi bim bap; Food, all stirred up; Sushi? What sushi?

I can see myself really enjoying bi bim bap in the middle of winter, hunched over its steaming pile of deliciously dislodged ingredients and hiding from the cold. That said, I can see myself really enjoying bi bim bop anytime. Filling and nourishing, it's a fantastically unceremonious meal--how formal can you be when mashing up your dinner?--and it makes for a friendly table.

From Miyako, we headed up to Soft Spot, a bar Roxie is fond of frequenting. Tonight, however, Roxie was on the other of the bar serving up 2-for-1 happy hour specials (7 to 8 p.m.) as a guest bartender. The guest-tending spot is filled every Wednesday by a different invitee, as the Spot Spot is big on nightly draws (and tasteful nudity, left). For example, on Tuesday the happy hour special is extended all night, on Saturday and Sunday a bloody mary special is extended all weekend, and on your birthday you drink for free (yes, ID required). You can see why Roxie digs this place. And Roxie is never wrong.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: He wants to eat there again already. Too soon?

Thanks to Jeanie for pointing out a few omissions in my description of dol sut bi bim bap.

BRUNCH!: Lazy Catfish

Lazy Catfish
593 Lorimer Street
Brooklyn, NY 11211
(718) 599-9055

BRUCH IS BETTER with drinks. It's even better with "free" drinks. A Lower East Side staple for some years now, the "three free cocktails" hook is always sure to lure in a brunch crowd, although Williamsburg-Greenpoint spots have been slow to adopt the trend. That's fine, there's better food to be had elsewhere, but the drink special is what broke any tie in favor of Lazy Catfish this particular weekend.

Becky, Logan, and a friend from Richmond met Mint and I, and we took up seats in the back of a very empty Lazy Catfish looking noticably more bar than brunch spot than usual (which is an accomplishment in a space with next-to-no-decorating period). For a moment we all second-guessed our choice. The reassurement started when the first cups of fresh-pressed coffee were poured. A collective sigh of relief was breathed, and we will offer this advice--do not be dissuaded by the bar-esque digs, the Catfish's kitchen is quite good.

Side note: I've looked everywhere for Pampero rum--no luck. Turns out,
Lazy Catfish has bottles of the stuff!

Mint and I have been many times now and although our opinions are somewhat mixed we generally agree the place serves up a good brunch. Good enough to keep us coming back. If you don't mind the absence of atmosphere, $12.99 for a well-assembled plate of standard brunch fare (best option: chicken waffles!) and three drinks included is not bad for Williamsburg. Well, unless you're out to be part of the Williamsburg Brunch Scene. Cause you're not likely to be seen at all at the Catfish.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: Yeah, and he'll prolly whine about it beforehand, begrudgingly order when he gets there, and then tell everyone about how much he liked it. Rinse and repeat.