Manhattan's Chinatown is seemingly overwhelming, with a nearly endless number of eateries. Where do you go on an empty stomach? What do you order?
As part of our ongoing exploration of the neighborhood, we're pleased to present a guide to cheap meals in Chinatown. As in our guide to Chinatown bakeries and soup noodles in Chinatown, this post will cover what's available between the Canal Street and Grand Street subway stations.
A couple of weeks ago an ELE reader reported on the donuts at the Bouchon Bakery (Time-Warner Center, Broadway bet. 59th and 60th Sts., 3rd Fl., 212-823-9366). The reader posted that the BB donuts were really good, but they were only available on the weekends after noon.
Two weeks ago, I went to Bouchon Bakery around 1 p.m.hoping to score some doughnuts. The counter person said that no donuts were going to be forthcoming from the kitchen that day. Try back next weekend, she said. I was bitterly disappointed, and I drowned my sorrows in a bag of phenomenal homemade crackerjacks. The caramel corn was made with just sweet enough caramel, and the candied nuts were sensational. It didn't come with a prize, and I believe it was $4.50 for a small bag, but let's face it, a box of crackerjacks would cost you that much at a ballgame, and the prizes are usually worthless to an adult.
The following weekend I once again tried to score some donuts. Success! I scored two filled doughnuts. One was chocolate-covered and filled with custard, and the other was a jelly doughnut.
Both doughnuts blew me away. Both were extraordinarily light, moist, and had the correct filling to dough ratio. The chocolate was serious chocolate, as was the jam. These doughnuts were so good I might never be able to eat commercial quality filled doughnuts again. Which I guess is a good thing. These doughnuts are $3.50, but worth every penny.
I did have one Bouchon Bakery item a month ago that was not sensational. An $8.50 caramel apple was utterly ordinary, overpriced, and ill-conceived (it had chocolate squiggles on it). But two (crackerjacks and donuts) out of three ain't bad.
Returning from a series of business meetings, I found myself wandering through the food market in New York's Grand Central Station. At the Murray's Cheese shop kiosk I came across a container of Largueta Almonds. Murray's proprietor Rob Kaufelt is actually a pretty good writer, so without his permission I am reciting the copy he put on the label, because it's shockingly accurate: "There are snacks you can't stop eating that you know you really need to get the monkey off your back. There are other snacks you can't stop eating, and it's no big thing. These are those snacks: artisanally produced, toasted, lightly salted and high in Vitamin E. Good for you, so chow down." I'll tell you something else he doesn't mention; these almonds are incredibly delicious, light and crunchy and addictive. So order some. You might never reach for a Planter's peanut or a Jordan Almond again.
When you're on a diet, and you love food as much as I do, you find yourself living (and eating) vicariously through other people's experiences and stories. Last Thursday New York Times reporter James Barron wrote a hilarious and sharp-eyed piece about mallomars , those superb chocolate-covered marshmallow cookies only available in the cooler months. His lead: "Proust had his madeleines. Douglas Boxer had his Mallomars." He then goes on to write: "like Beaujolais nouveau, Mallomars are not a year-round delicacy....Mallomars return to supermarket in the fall after a warm-weather break. But Mallomars connoisseurs do not celebrate by holding tastings of the new batch or by calling friends to announce "les Mallomars sont arrives."
Barron called me for a comment on the story, but I returned his call after the story was put to bed. I told him that he should have gotten a quote from Alice Waters. After all, Alice, as a huge proponent of seasonal foods and cooking, should appreciate the seasonal nature of Mallomars, even if it is a packaged, processed food made by Kraft.
Barron then goes on to pose a series of cosmically hilarious Mallomars questions:
"What is the singular of Mallomars, anyway?"
"If they can produce chocolate that can survive in Saudi Arabia, why don't they do that with Mallomars?"
Now I really like Mallomars, though I'm not as passionate about them as many of the people Barron interviewed. But when you're on a diet, a Mallomar (I have made an executive decision that Mallomar is singular) sounds just about perfect.
