Welcome to Chubbypanda.com. If you can't see the slideshow above, please download the lastest version Macromedia Flash by clicking here.

5/11/2008

Soprano's - Costa Mesa, CA [Eating]

(Pictures for this review taken with my Canon PowerShot SD800is.

Apologies for the image quality of my later photos. Several members of our party got lost and arrived over an hour late. By time our food arrived, the light had completely faded. Out of respect for other diners, I don't use a flash, so I did the best I could with a nearby candle.)




I love mom & pop restaurants. There's something about a family owned and operated eatery that expresses a warmth chain restaurants just can't convey. When the family in question takes pride in their establishment, it's a palpable emotion you can see in every place setting, feel in the air, and taste in your food.



Soprano's in Costa Mesa is an upscale Italian restaurant that somehow manages to combine the elegance and class of a fine dining establishment with the casual charm of a mom & pop operation. Tucked in the corner of a quiet residential neighborhood, it's incongruously placed next to a coin-operated laundromat. Once again, good food can be found in surprising locations.



The interior is a cozy affair, almost exclusively filled with locals in everyday attire. You don't see advertisements for it and it's not visible from any major thoroughfare. If you know about Soprano's, chances are you live nearby, you heard about it from someone who lives nearby, or both.


(Complimentary focaccia with an olive aioli spread.)


The obscurity is probably for the best. The food is so good, and Soprano's is so small, I don't want to make it any harder than it already is to get a table. This is one of my secret happy spots, and my favorite restaurant for Italian-American fare.


(BBlade, our own Chicago gangsta.)


In fact, the desperate pleas of an old iaido friend (second picture in the link, upper right) for a spot to host a last-minute reunion dinner was the only reason I shared Soprano's with him. I don't even tell friends about it. That's how much I love this place.



Can you blame me, with such luscious offerings as this Penne ala Vodka? Plump shrimp peep up through a springy forest of cylindrical noodles coated in a creamy vodka marinara. The pastas at Soprano's are always perfectly al dente and coated in robustly flavored, ethereal sauces.



Then there's the Lamb Shank, a ruggedly simple name for a simple and rugged dish. Two large, bone-in lamb shanks are braised in red wine and spices until the meat coyly slips apart at the brush of a fork. Each bite is coated with the gelatin-thickened gravy. Sides of sautéed fresh vegetables and fettuccini in marinara sauce are almost an afterthought, yet the vegetables are tender and the pasta is skillfully prepared. It's a wonderful dish when you're in a meat and potatoes mood.



However, the undisputed champion is Soprano's Cioppino, a massive tureen of fresh fish, shrimp, scallops, mussels, and other seafood frolicking in a savory sea of white wine, tomatoes, and herbs. Hiding just underneath the rippling surface, like the coiled tentacles of the mythic kraken, lies a generous mound of linguine cooked right in the flavorful stew. It's large enough for two people or one hungry panda.


(Balsamic vinegar and olive oil smiley face.)


So why am I choosing now to reveal to you the path to this palace of gastronomic delight? Because we're in a recession and our small businesses need all the help they can get. Now that I've made this supreme sacrifice, you're all honor-bound to eat at Soprano's. ... What, you're still here? Get moving!


Soprano's - A mom & pop Italian restaurant with the class of a high-end eatery and the soul of a neighborhood joint. I can't believe I told you guys about it!


Bill:

Penne ala Vodka - 1595
Lamb Shank - 17.95
Cioppino - 21.95


Flavor: A
Ambience: A
Service: A
ROI: A

Overall: A


Soprano's
2400 Newport Blvd.
Costa Mesa, CA 92627
1-949-645-8515

5/04/2008

Gen Kai Japanese Cuisine - Irvine, CA [Eating]

(Pictures for this review taken with my Canon PowerShot SD800is.

Read Elmomonster's review of Gen Kai here.)


Kitty-corner from Irvine Valley College lies a small, darkened strip mall mostly abandoned once the sun has set. Home to an eclectic gathering of businesses that draw little foot traffic and shutter their doors early, the lifeblood of the center's surprisingly numerous eateries is a thin trickle of car-less students desperate to get away from the campus cafeteria. With such anemic support, it's no wonder that this area of Irvine has a less than stellar reputation for food.



If there's one important piece of knowledge that I've gained from my gastronomic explorations, it's that great food is seldom where you expect to find it. Some of the best meals that I've ever had were ones that took me completely by surprise. Hunkered within the shadows of this sad strip mall, Gen Kai Japanese Cuisine, a restaurant for which I had nothing but low expectations, taught me this maxim yet again.


(Juuji)


In operation for close to 15 years, Gen Kai has a less than stellar reputation amongst Irvine's sushi lovers. During my decade in the city, what little I'd heard about the place had been enough to prevent me from ever setting foot within its walls. However, unbeknownst to myself and most other Irvine-ites, the restaurant has undergone a Renaissance in recent years; New remodeling, new staff, new menu, and, most importantly, new chefs.


(Lightly pickled cucumber - A signature palate cleanser.)


My first visit was entirely accidental. Cat was teaching a class at Irvine Valley College that didn't end until 10pm. I'd had a late night at the office and had less than half an hour to eat before I needed to pick her up. Like the desperate students drawn to it during the day, I ended up at the strip mall across the street in search of something fast and still open. Sushi at Gen Kai seemed to be my only choice.


(Edamame - Boiled and lightly salted soybeans in their pods.)


The meal that followed was so startling that I found myself emailing my friend and fellow OC Food Blogs contributor Elmomonster the following week to suggest we try Gen Kai again together. It's a mark of our mutual respect that he agreed, even after an unpleasant dining experience at Gen Kai some years earlier.


(Squid and Kelp Salad)


Serving us that night was Juuji (pictured near the top), a cherubic Japanese itamae who cheerfully informed me that both of Gen Kai's sushi chefs were named "Juuji". However, this chef was one who'd prepared my first delightful meal at Gen Kai. When Elmomonster decided to leave the ordering to me, I was confident in asking Juuji, "Omakase onegai-shimasu," which meant he would have free reign to serve us whatever he considered to be the best and freshest that day. I'd placed us entirely in the itamae's hands


(Tako-Su)


Flattered by our trust in him, Juuji was on a mission to impress. He succeeded admirably. Our first course was a pair of pickled seafood dishes to be shared between the two of us. The Tako-Su was a bold, mouth-puckering heap of sliced octopus with a sweetly tempered finish. The vivid orange color came from the marinade, which had also given each piece a meaty and tender texture. The dish's counterpart (pictured above) was a crunchy mix of squid, kelp, ginger, and bell peppers that brushed over our tongues like a gentle breeze.



A giant snail followed, poached and still in its own shell. Its twisted armor offered little protection as we wrested the chewy contents free and enjoyed their unctuous earthiness. The few drops of briny liquor left behind were eagerly sucked into our ravening maws.


(Serving for one.)


Juuji's strategy that night was evidently shock and awe, and he set out to overwhelm us with our next course. Reigning over a gorgeous plate of sashimi, its antennae still thrashing about, was the head of a giant prawn that had been whole and alive mere moments ago. Its gleaming black eyes surveyed a realm that glittered with the jewel-like flesh of the fallen. At Juuji's suggestion, I performed a Shinto prayer for the crustacean's spirit, waiting for it to depart the body before partaking.



Its freshness evident with each bite, the Amaebi (Sweet Shrimp) lived up to its name. I honored its passing by consuming every delectable morsel.


(Spanish Mackerel - center, Orange Clam - bottom)


Overshadowed by the centerpiece, yet equally sublime, wafer-thin slices of Aoyagi (Orange Clam) conveyed the aroma of the ocean. Strips of Aji (Spanish Mackerel) coated with grated ginger spread their rich oil throughout our mouths.



Finishing off the selection were two luxurious slices of Toro (Fatty Tuna). While not the highest grade of toro available, their quality was unmistakable. Each tender piece was redolent with the essence of the fish, melting away like the fine filet mignon.



Still reeling from the delicacies on our sashimi plates, we were unprepared for the appearance of our third course. With a mischievous grin, Juuji presented us each with a piece of Jellied Skate Wing. Served chilled and enveloped by golden aspic made from a combination of natural gelatin and the braising liquid used to cook it, the skate's finely textured meat required care to separate from its many bones.



The fourth course was a detour from the pure to the abstract. An imaginative roll of asparagus, salmon, shrimp tempura, avocado, radish sprouts, and soy paper was presented to us on plates that would not have been out of place in a gallery of modern art. The display was both beautiful and delicious.



At this point, we were both about ready to wave our napkins as flags. Our shock was nearly palpable when we were each served a hefty portion of Ankimo (Monkfish Liver), the foie gras of the sea. Despite the grated chili and daikon, sliced green onions, and ponzu sauce added to cut the practically pure fat, this dish nearly finished us. Yet, we were unable to stop ourselves from laboriously devouring each lump of lipid love.



The sixth course was the return on an old friend. After the sashimi course, the heads of our giant shrimp had been removed by the kitchen for further treatment. They returned to us now, twisted but still recognizable. A brief swim in a sizzling oil hot spring with only the scant protection of tempura batter had transformed each shrimp's once fearsome helm into a fragile facade of crispy goodness.

I attacked the spiky legs, feelers, and antennae first, carefully shattering each sharp shard between my teeth. Once denuded, the shrimp's now-helpless skull yielded to me its flavorful fat and brains as I devoured it whole. Not a single speck of chitin failed to make its way into my belly.



Sensing our flagging resolve, Juuji wisely chose to have us share our seventh course. I don't think we could have survived it otherwise. The amusingly named Japanese Pizza roll was a tempura fried cylinder of salmon, rice, and nori. Each slice was topped with sweetened mayonnaise and was broiled until the mayonnaise caramelized. Generous pinches of Tobiko (Flying Fish Roe) and sliced green onions were added, along with a drizzle of teriyaki sauce. It was decadent. It was obscene. It was damn tasty stuff.



Mercifully, our eighth course was a simple plate of Hakusai (Lightly Pickled Napa Cabbage) that served to cleanse our palates and sooth stomachs troubled by the heaviness of the last two dishes. Its mild bite was just what we needed to reawaken our senses.



Our ninth and final course was a shared sashimi plate of Shiro-Maguro Tataki (Water-Search Albacore) served with thinly sliced onion, grated daikon, and ponzu. The mild fish and tart ponzu left us refreshed and utterly satisfied.



(Green Tea Ice Cream Mochi - Gen Kai's Omakase includes dessert!)


Gen Kai Japanese Cuisine - In the restaurant world, it's rare when an existing, mediocre establishment is able to remake itself into something noteworthy. With the addition of Juuji to its staff, Gen Kai has managed to profoundly elevate the quality of both its food and customer experience. His mastery of traditional flavors and modern Californian sushi cuisine has made Gen Kai a contender in Orange County's highly competitive sushi market.


Bill (per person, including tax & tip):

Omakase - 53.10


Flavor: A+ (averaged over two visits)
Ambience: A
Service: A
ROI: A+

Overall: A


Gen Kai Japanese Cuisine
15435 Jeffrey Rd., #119
Irvine, CA 92618
1-949-786-3420


Read Elmomonster's review of our meal at Gen Kai here.

4/20/2008

Dragon Phoenix Palace (Dim Sum Series) - Westminster, CA [Eating]

(Pictures for this review taken with my Canon PowerShot SD100 and Canon PowerShot SD800is.

The first two introductory paragraphs are the same in all articles in my Dim Sum Series. Feel free to skip down to the first picture if you've already read them.)


Dim sum restaurants are a hotly contested topic amongst Orange County foodies. Every person has their favorite, and defends it with an almost rabid intensity on the message boards. Read any thread and you'll find that Seafood World, Seafood Paradise, and Dragon Phoenix Palace in Little Saigon will have invariably emerged as top contenders. It's a certainty that someone will mention China Garden in Irvine as an acceptable alternative, and bash other restaurants like Furiwa. If it's a slow day on the Net, you might even see armed encampments form, arguing vociferously as to whether or not Dragon Phoenix has fallen from grace and been surpassed by Seafood World, or if new dim sum restaurant X holds a candle to any of the perennial favorites. The answer is invariably "no".

The most passionate flamers are locals who grew up eating at a particular restaurant, delivering their judgments about all of the others as if their opinions carry the weight of the ages, and launching verbal tirades against those of different dim sum faiths. It's difficult, then, for a dim sum newcomer in Orange County to gauge the veracity of any of the statements and decide which dim sum restaurant to visit. This is why I chose to start my Dim Sum Series. As a relatively recent arrival to Orange County, I'm impartial when it comes to local dim sum restaurants. I don't have any favorites. I just want to give my readers enough information to make an informed decision when choosing a dim sum dining location. Take everything I say with a dab of chili oil. I'm just a guy who likes food. Ultimately, the best way to decide if a restaurant is worth eating at is to try it yourself.



Once the reigning king of Orange County dim sum restaurants, Dragon Phoenix Palace in Little Saigon has suffered from online detractors in recent years. Comments about it on restaurant review forums are far from glowing, with particularly venomous jabs being delivered by longtime regulars. The food, like so many other things, just isn't as good as they remember from their childhood. Determined to get to the truth of the matter, Alphanarf (my Cantonese dim sum buddy), Cat, and I made several review visits to Dragon Phoenix Palace over the course of a year.



Our first visit was part of an OC Food Blogs meet up organized by Wandering Chopsticks. The sparsely populated dining area during what should have been the weekend dim sum rush showed a restaurant in decline. However, the food seemed decent and the selection was more varied than what was offered by its competitors.


(Shrimp & Green Onion Dumplings)


The second time Alphanarf, Cat, and I visited Dragon Phoenix Palace, several months later, the food quality was shockingly bad. The wrappers for our steamed items were swollen and pasty, yet the inner fillings were undercooked. It was obvious that many of the dishes had spent too much time in the steam carts before being served to us. In one notable instance, the dumplings were so waterlogged that my chopsticks passed right through them when I tried to pick them up.


(Shrimp & Chive Dumplings)


The final visit occurred at the beginning of this year. I wanted to give Dragon Phoenix Palace the opportunity to redeem itself. However, our prior experience had been so disappointing that it took me months to talk Alphanarf and Cat into giving it one more go. While the food wasn't as bad as it had been the last time, the pasty wrapper problem persisted. We departed the restaurant without any intention of returning.


(Shrimp Dumplings)


It seems its detractors were correct. Whatever its former glories, the dim sum at Dragon Phoenix Palace is now mediocre at best. The food is passable, but it's certainly not worth braving the weekend traffic in Little Saigon and the horrific parking situation.



If you do find yourself at Dragon Phoenix Palace, there are a number of reasonably bulletproof dishes that you can order. The Shao Mai (Meatball Dumplings) are usually pretty good. Since they don't rely on their wrappers for structural integrity, they're much better at withstanding over-steaming.



The thickness of the Cha Shao Bao (BBQ Pork Buns) make them harder to over-steam. While the bread portions end up a bit gluey, the pork ratio is good and flavoring is strong. This is usually a favorite with kids.



Similarly, the steamed glutinous rice dishes also come off pretty well. Their size and the fact they tend to be encased by leaves or plastic wrap lend them extra protection. This one was filled with minced BBQ pork, and was quite good.



The He Fen (Filled Rice Noodle Sheets) are always winners. They're not kept warm in steam carts after being prepared in the kitchen, which means they're usually not over-steamed. The rice noodle sheets are gently resilient, and the shrimp or beef fillings add a nice accent.


(Potstickers.)


However, and it's rare that I make this sort of recommendation about a dim sum place, I'd advise most diners to stick with the fried items and avoid the steamed ones. Fried items in dim sum are often day old leftovers crisped in a pan before serving. Although, this treatment can actually make over-steamed wrappers more palatable, it does little to improve the uninspired seasoning.



A fried item that tends to be OK is the Luo Buo Gao (Turnip Cake), fried in an egg coating. I found this to be sort of blah. The egg coating didn't develop the same sort of crispy texture you get from just frying the turnip cake plain. It was also pretty bland. But, with a little soy sauce and chili oil, it was passable.



The Special Tofu, on the other hand, is awesome. Tofu cubes are battered in rice flour paste, deep fried, and them stir fried with green onions and some sort of sweet, garlicky sauce. They're addicting.



The Hao You Jie Lan (Steamed Chinese Broccoli with Oyster Sauce) is also quite tasty. The Chinese broccoli is fresh and crunchy, and most vegetables are great with a little oyster sauce drizzled over the top. It's a good way to cut the grease from the fried items.



Occasionally, waiters will circulate through the dining area with trays of piping hot "specials". It's sometimes worth taking a chance on these offers. I really enjoyed these Deep Fried Gravid Prawns, which I ate whole. The shells had been fried so that they broke apart in my mouth like chitonous potato chips. While each prawn was packed full of delicious eggs, it was the MSG and salt mix that they'd been coated in that made the prawns extra good.



(Baked BBQ Pork Buns0


Dragon Phoenix Palace - When you go to a dim sum restaurant, you don't want to have to guess at which items will taste all right. You want mediocrity to be the exception, not the rule. You want a pleasant, fun, and delicious meal with family and friends. Sadly, Dragon Phoenix Palace no longer seems able to deliver that experience. I hope it manages to rise again someday.


Bill (just dim sum ranges)

A Items - 1.95
B Items - 3.15
C Items - 3.80
D Items - 4.60
F Items - 6.50


Flavor: C (averaged over three visits)
Ambience: B
Service: C
ROI: B-

Overall: C+


Dragon Phoenix Palace
9211 Bolsa Ave., #106
Westminster, CA 92683
1-714-893-3682


Read a different review of Dragon Phoenix Palace with this article by friend and fellow OC Food Blogs contributor, Wandering Chopsticks.