Nan Zhou Hand Drawn Noodle House

Chinatown's Nan Zhou Hand Drawn Noodle House gets lots of praise for, of course, their hand drawn noodles freshly made to order in house (sit in the back by the kitchen to watch the noodles being pounded out). But my question always with traditional Asian restaurants, and especially those like Nan Zhou that feature soup, is, "Is anything vegetarian?"
I'm happy to report that there are two vegetarian dishes at Nan Zhou, the small and always bustling (meaning get in and get out, 'cause others are waiting) Chinatown restaurant. Two dishes may not seem like a lot, but most of the menu is just meaty variations of noodle soup. Oh, and for the adventurous non-vegetarians there are spicy pigs ears, marinated intestines, and marinated beef tendons in the appetizer section to keep you busy. For $3, a small plate of noodles with peanut sauce and scallions is the cheapest way to fill up. These are great, fresh, chewy noodles with a basic, salty and nutty sauce that was a bit stiff, but a few spoonfuls of my partner's soup broth loosened the noodles right up. No where near as transcendent as Han Dynasty's garlicky sesame noodle dish that will have you dreaming about a plate of noodles (and tasting it) for days, but for $3, you can't complain.
Noodle soups come with either hand drawn noodles or shaved noodles (knife-cut and thicker), and if you don't specify, you're getting the hand drawn noodles, which is what most people get.

The large, $4.50 bowl of steaming vegetable noodle soup has Asian greens, scallions, and cilantro swimming in a piping-hot, mild vegetable broth with a pleasant hint of star anise that can be spiced up with the usual suspects of condiments on the table — soy sauce, vinegar, Sriracha, and chilis in oil. But the fresh, tender noodles are the star here, and you'll think you can't finish the whole bowl, but you will.

Slurp your winter-cold little hearts out vegetarians, because this bowl of noodle soup might be one of only a handful of traditional Asian noodle soups in the city you can enjoy.

Update: The vegetarian-ness of the vegetable noodle soup is dubious. Proceed at your own risk.

Nan Zhou Hand Drawn Noodle House
927 Race St., Philadelphia, PA 19107
215-923-1550
Sun-Thurs: 11am-9pm
Fri-Sat: 11am-10pm

Dim Sum Garden

Underneath a tunnel which acts as a homeless shelter, and next to a Chinatown bus station sits a the neon-fringed, sparsely decorated Dim Sum Garden. This Shanghainese eatery, which is not really a traditional dim sum house, has gotten praise for their hand drawn noodles and the (apparently in Philly) elusive Shanghai soup bun (Xiao Long Bao). Unfortunately, Shanghai soup buns — a sort of steamed dumpling filled with pork and hot soup — are not vegetarian. Carry on.
What I love about the grungy-looking (although, it was clean) Chinese eatery is the smiling service. What I love even more is the decisiveness and confidence our smiling server had in recommending the better of two dishes — even if she might have been lying just to get on with her job. Thank you for having conviction.
The vegetable steamed buns are not the steamed soup buns most people come looking for, but are the thicker bread-like buns, and are filled with a mixture of chopped Shanghai cabbage, black mushrooms, and tofu. Mildly flavored, be sure to douse the vegetable bun with one of the few condiments on the table, like vinegar, soy sauce, or chili sauce.
The vegetable steamed dumplings (again not the one's filled with soup) are filled with the same mixture as the steamed vegetable buns, so it may be best to pick one over the other so as not to grow tired of the filling.

Having just eaten a really bad dumpling that surely came from a freezer bag at another restaurant, rest assured that Dim Sum Garden's dumplings and buns are housemade. You can watch the employees make the doughy pockets behind the counter.The handdrawn dry noodles with tofu come slathered with a strongly anise-scented brown sauce studded with bits of craggy, chewy tofu and peanuts. I love the chewy noodles, but the extremely salty, though tasty sauce was borderline inedible. I managed to down most of the noodles by convincing myself that enjoying salty food is an indulgence, but an hour later found myself successively downing six glasses of water to quench my thirst.Feeling that the salty noodles with tofu were an aberration, I checked back in with Dim Sum Garden. This time I ordered the tomatoes and eggs over rice, simply because I've never seen a dish of that description on any Chinese menu.

What came out was breakfast on top of rice — a large plate of rice topped with scrambled eggs and ever-so-slightly-sweet cooked tomatoes with side garnish of cooked bok choy. This dish is the absolute opposite end of the salt and seasoning spectrum; there is almost none. Yet, it still tastes good. Condiments from the table livened things up a bit, though. An odd sounding dish, but trust me when I say it is the perfect meal for any time of the day.

If you eat meat, I'd say drop by Dim Sum Garden for the handmade steamed soup buns (every table orders them, so they must be good), but if you're veg, there are plenty of dishes to choose from on the menu.

Dim Sum Garden
59 N. 11th St., Philadelphia, PA 19176
215-627-0218

Yummy Yummy: Ball Waffle

Don't know where, but I stumbled upon the fact that Yummy Yummy (name win!) makes ball waffles — also known as eggette or gai dan jai — a Hong Kong street food consisting of egg, flour, sugar, and evaporated milk. That yellow honeycomb balloon hanging in Yummy Yummy's window is your beacon. Three electric waffle irons at Yummy Yummy with deep round wells crank out the large waffles with pull-apart bite-size balls. When I was there, none of the signs were written in English, so just know going in that there are three flavors of waffle to choose from: plain, chocolate, and green tea with white chocolate.

How do they taste? Like a waffle, actually. A little crispy on the outside, a little doughy on the inside, and subtly sweet.
The green tea waffle tastes faintly of green tea on the first bite, and then it's all waffle after that. The white chocolate chip dropped in the middle of each well (or at least most) adds a bit of sweetness to each bite. I prefer the green tea waffle because of the added sweetness, but the waffle still is not nearly as sweet as most American desserts.
Ball waffle innards!

These two waffles cost a total of $4.

Yummy Yummy
52 N. 10th St., Philadelphia, PA 19107
215-625-9188

Lee How Fook

Many moons ago we were looking for a BYOB Chinese restaurant to tuck into before a show at the Troc, and landed in Lee How Fook on 11th St. in Chinatown.

Small, but not cramped inside, the dining room was less than half full on a weekend evening. The staff sat at one of the dining tables chatting, looking bored and twirling a bottle opener while not actively working.
Pan seared vegetable dumplings were so tough and chewy, I actually inquired about how they were cooked, thinking they were deep fried for too long and possibly reheated. Nope, just pan seared to within an inch of their lives.
From the vegetable section of the menu, I ordered the sauteed string beans, a dish I often get at Chinese restaurants. But here the crisp green beans were in a cloyingly sweet sauce instead of the usual garlicky bean sauce. Thankfully, I like cloyingly sweet sauces at Chinese restaurants, but the switch-up of sauces surprised me a bit.
Mapo Tofu was a large dish of soft tofu squares and diced peppers in an uninspiring and bland sauce, which is why I usually don't order Mapo Tofu, but this was not my dish.

With so many Chinese restaurants in Chinatown, not to mention other parts of the city, next time we crave Chinese we'll skip Lee How Fook, as we did not find one thing to love with our admittedly small sampling of the menu. We did love Lee How Fook's BYOB status, though, and sometimes that counts for a lot.

Lee How Fook
219 N. 11th St., Philadelphia, PA 19107
215-925-7266
Tues-Sun, 11:30am-10pm
Mon, closed
BYOB

Q.T. Vietnamese Sandwich

After David Snyder's glowing review of Q.T. Vietnamese Sandwich in City Paper informed that there was a new banh mi purveyor in town, I knew I had to check it out, since I love all things Asian-flavored, pickled, cilantro-fied, and mayo-ed on a roll. The first visit to Q.T. around 10 pm was a fail, since they're just not open that late!

Then a friend admitted to trekking almost daily to Q.T. for banh mi, because they are just that good! (And, would you look at that! fries with that shake just visited Q.T., too.) So, I tried Q.T. again at a more reasonable hour — noon — and found the small Vietnamese sandwich shop open. Hurray!

Inside you'll find a a short, narrow ledge against one wall with three stools for those who wish to eat in, and a high counter separating you from the very smiley and friendly women who run Q.T. Not being a particularly smiley person myself, I don't fault people who take orders with a straight, stern face, but it is so refreshing and uncommon to have a person who seems genuinely happy to take your order nowadays. And that's exactly how the women of Q.T take your order — with huge smiles on their faces.

Q.T. serves rice and noodle platters, a soup of the day, a few appetizers, and other odds and ends, but I was there for their mainstay — the banh mi. In the vegetarian department there are two banh mis to choose from: tofu sauteed with onions and mushrooms; and lemongrass tofu. I went with the lemongrass tofu banh mi.The ultra-crispy, long, narrow baguette holds thinly sliced, fried tofu with a pleasant hint of lemongrass (it's very easy to go overboard with lemongrass, and I think Q.T. did best by erring on the side of caution); a generous mound of lightly seasoned shredded carrots; a single thick strip of fresh cucumber per sandwich half (would have liked another slice); a single thin strip of jalapeno per sandwich half (would have liked another slice); a single sprig of cilantro per sandwich half (would have liked a whole bunch more), and a generous slathering of mayo.

All in all, Q.T. makes a very tasty lemongrass tofu bahn mi, although some of the ingredients are a little skimpy. I don't think I'd have a problem getting the ladies behind the counter at Q.T. putting a couple more springs of cilantro on my sandwich, though, since I witnessed them happily handing over extra sliced chilies to a couple dining in while I was waiting for my sandwich to be prepared.

And here's their menu...Click to enlarge.

Q.T. Vietnamese Sandwich
48 N. 10th St., Philadelphia, PA 19107
267-639-4520

Pad Thai At Banana Leaf

Banana Leaf in Chinatown is great because it serves Malaysian food, which means there are, like, 200 items on the menu covering a whole handful of Southeast Asian cuisines. It's also right outside the door from the Troc and the Convention Center - not that the rest of Chinatown is that far away.

I've eaten at Banana Leaf a few times (see Thai basil noodle here), but have never had their pad Thai, a favorite Thai noodle carb-fest. I finally put their pad Thai to the test.
Oh, I did scarf this down in minutes flat, but Banana Leaf's pad Thai does not even enter into the list of bests. The noodles were too wet with overly sweet sauce, albeit not the wettest or sweetest sauce I've ever had - that distinction goes to Soybean Asian Grille. The fish sauce was minimal, though, and that's a plus for me.

And what's with the mound of bean sprouts doused with sweet chili sauce? Too sweet, too many bean sprouts.

I randomly check restaurant inspections of restaurants I visit, and I admit that it's unfair that I don't do this with every write-up, but Banana Leaf's sanitation is horrifyingly slack (click map marker). It gives me pause.

Banana Leaf
1009 Arch St., Philadelphia, PA, 19107
215-592-4737

Banana Leaf

Just a few doors down from The Trocadero in Chinatown, Banana Leaf serves up Malaysian cuisine, which means everyone wins with choices from Malaysian, Chinese, Indian, and Thai influenced dishes. Banana Leaf even throws in some Japanese food for good measure. The menu is staggering at Banana Leaf; you might be better off closing your eyes and pointing, instead of, you know, actually deciding.This huge plate of Thai basil noodles with fried tofu satisfied my craving for greasy noodles. Just as good as any Thai basil noodle dish I've had, the licorice scented basil and liberal hot peppers had my sinuses cleared stat.

Banana Leaf
1009 Arch St., Philadelphia, PA, 19107
215-592-4737

Rangoon

The ol’ noggin is a little fuzzy, but I believe Rangoon was my first dining experience in Philly. All I remember is that I liked what I had.

That first go-round was almost six years ago (I can’t believe I’ve been here that long!), and I accompanied a group of girls who came into the city to dine at a different ethnic restaurant once a month, and that month it was Burmese – a mix of traditional Myanmar foods, and Chinese, Thai, and Indian foods, but...Burmese cuisine it it's own distinct cuisine.

Rangoon is not fancy; it’s your typical Asian dining interior. The menu is extensive, and you will need a good ten minutes of your undivided attention (or twenty if you plan on talking to your friends) while trying to decide what to order.

We started with spring rolls (an unadventurous diner ordered this), and, yep, they’re spring roll-y!

Then we tried the Firecracker Lentil Fritter, a fried lentil, onion, mint, and chile appetizer. The fritter was a little dry, but had nice spicy flavor. I usually try to pick dishes highlighted as spicy (this one was) at Chinese and other Asian restaurants, because often I find those dishes pack more flavor – and usually aren’t any where close to hot enough to kill me.

I forget the name of this dish, and can’t find it on the online menu, but it’s a cold noodle dish, and the menu description says something like, “unique blend of spices” and “not to be missed.” I’m such a goob (or maybe a sucker) when I order, and there was no way that I couldn’t take them up on what seemed like a challenge.

Oh, I hated this dish! Don’t know what those spices were, but the cumulative effect did not impress me. I found the noodles bland and the coating sauce mealy. I merely poked at the noodles with my fork.

I ate my partner’s dish, instead – Jungle Tofu with fried tofu, bell peppers, onions, mushrooms, and snow peas in a coconut green curry sauce. This is not the green curry sauce you’re used to at Thai restaurants; it’s much sweeter. My partner liked his dish, but thought it too sweet. I liked it, in it's own sweet Jungle way.

So, here’s the take home message…Burmese food is not quite Chinese, not quite Thai, and not quite Indian; it’s different. And there are so many choices on Rangoon’s menu that, if you find one that doesn’t agree with you (those special noodles aren’t that special), you should try again.

Rangoon
112 N. 9th St., Philadelphia, PA 19107
215-829-8939
Sun.-Thurs., 11:30 a.m.-9 p.m; Fri.-Sat., 11:30 a.m.-10 p.m.

K.C.'s Pastries

My eating schedule doesn’t sync with anyone’s. I like to eat lunch between 10:30 a.m and 11:30 a.m.; dinner between 4:30 p.m. and 6:30 p.m.. And if I don’t snack every two hours on the hour, I get cranky. (Really. I don’t lie.) A dinner date at 8 p.m with normal people? Gotsta have a snack to survive.

Seriously cheap snacks – buns, cakes, and bubble tea – are what K.C.’s pastries in Chinatown is good for. Grab a bun, a Chinese pastry filled with sweet or savory fillings, and you’re (I’m) good to go ‘til dinner on normal people’s schedule.

Steer clear of the meat-filled buns (if vegetarian), and most of what’s left are sweet-filled buns, but the cheese and corn bun can take care of your savory cravings. Canned corn and cheese atop a sweet bread roll may sound like something from a college dorm kitchen, but it tastes just as good as you remember your ramen culinary creations – damn good!

For whatever reason, we were more scared of the peanut butter bun than the corn and cheese bun, but that peanut butter bun was out of this world. I think we feared a glob of gooey peanut butter in the center (that was my fear, at least), but, instead, the pastry had layers of dough and layers of just enough peanut butter to satisfy. No goo bomb inside!

Thanks K.C.! I made it to dinner (at 8:30 p.m.), and was most pleasant to be around.

K.C.'s Pastries, two locations:
109 N. 10th St., Philadelphia, PA, 19107
145 N. 11th St., Philadelphia, PA, 19107
215-238-8808

New Harmony

New Harmony is one of a handful of kosher vegan Chinese restaurants in Philadelphia’s Chinatown. I often get Kingdom of Vegetarians and Cherry Street Vegetarian (the other veggie Chinese restaurants) confused with each other, as I’ve visited both a few times, but not frequently, since I have to be in the mood for Chinese. I know for a fact that I’ve never been to New Harmony, so I gave it a try a while back.

It turns out that Kingdom of Vegetarians and New Harmony are owned by the same people and have the same menu, so perhaps there was no need for me to seek out New Harmony. Maybe someone who eats Chinese more frequently than I do can chime in about any differences.

First off, let me just say…nice touch with the spray painted sign on the awning! It truly did help me hone in on the place as I walked down the street searching. Once inside I was not surprised to find a typical, casual Chinese joint – nothing fancy. And New Harmony is no different than other vegetarian Chinese restaurants – mock meat everywhere! I normally get General Tso’s chicken when dining at Chinese places because I like the sweet and spicy sauce. Nostalgia told me to order sweet and sour pork – my favorite when I was a child. I loved the thick, syrupy, bright red sauce covering the fried nuggets of pork. I was sorely disappointed to find the sauce at New Harmony to be thin, watery, and not bright red. The fried balls of seitan/tofu/what-ever were fine, but it’s the sauce that makes sweet and sour pork. Waahh.

I had read raves about the jumbo fried shrimp with glazed walnuts, so my partner ordered this dish. Rave, indeed! The mock shrimp had an uncanny resemblance in texture and taste to the real thing, and the sauce was sweet and garlicky. When I became a vegetarian in high school, the only meat I did not give up for the first year was fried shrimp – I loved them so. We never really ate much seafood at home, and rarely dined out, so, after a year, I lost interest in shrimp, and that was that.

Now I’m craving fried shrimp, thanks to New Harmony. At least, I know were to get the next best thing. Sweet and sour mock pork? Not so much.

New Harmony, 135 N. 9th St., Philadelphia 19107(215)627-4520
Daily, 11:30am-11:30pm

Sushi with Chef Joseph Poon

As a gift, I enrolled myself and my man in Chef Joseph Poon’s sushi class. I’ve never taken a cooking class, so didn’t know what to expect.

Just by chance, I happened to see Chef Poon on the local morning news show the very day of my class. He’s a bit of a celebrity chef and has been dubbed the unofficial ambassador of China Town. He’s also very involved in community charity. He is cute and very energetic.

After spending an evening with him, lets just say that energetic is an understatement. This man is incredible, and not in an annoying way. He is full of life, jokes and smiles. He is genuinely driven and happy. I cannot gush enough about his personality.

There were about ten people in the sushi class. We all gathered around a long table in his restaurant and followed his directions while drinking and laughing. His teaching style involved many jokes, animated demonstrations, and running back and forth to the kitchen to fetch us beer and wine.

He playfully reprimanded us by saying, “I kill you,” if we did anything wrong. Trust me, he can get away with it. He also liked to remind us not to squeeze the rice, but wait till later for “hanky panky” and squeeze our “honey” at home. Cheesy. But, again, he can get away with it.

There’s no skimping on ingredients or his giving of himself. Before we knew it, we had assembled an ungodly amount of sushi to take home. We weren’t eating the sushi –a meal would await us after the lesson and a quick walking tour of a few locales in China Town.

Chef Poon and his restaurant will accommodate any food request you may have. His kitchen prepared me a vegetarian dinner.

As we ate dessert, he continued to share his knowledge. He demonstrated candy pulling and simple food sculpting.

Laughter abounded, wine was spilled, and knives were wielded as we learned sushi secrets and dined.

I can’t recommend enough giving the gift of Chef Poon to yourself or someone else. It was the most entertaining, fun and enjoyable class that I’ve ever taken, and it’s all because of Chef Poon. If you don’t take one of his classes, “I kill you.”

Gushing over.