I first met Joanna and Elvin in 2007 when visiting Chicago the summer before I was to start my new job at UIC and relocate to yet another city, leaving the majestic saguaros I’ve gotten to know in the three years I lived in Phoenix. It was an
exciting move because I knew that I was moving to a culinary paradise, ready to take on
many boba adventures. During that visit, we gathered in Argyle as they, along with Kevin and Helen, introduced me and Robert to Tank Noodle (I had always wondered why it was called “Tank” noodle and it wasn’t until a photo of an army tank became problematically visible on the new menus that I found out). It was a lovely introduction to the Vietnamese food offerings of Argyle, but the best part of that day was the treat that came afterwards as Joanna and Elvin invited us to hop on their car as they gave us a tour of Devon Street. I still remember driving through the streets, listening to Elvin and Joanna narrate all its wonders while mesmerized by the lights that made each store front glow to reveal this magical place— the mannequins adorned with the most colorful saris, the jewels that glittered from the windows, the rows upon rows of fruits that were neatly lined up outside grocery stores, and of course, the various eateries that seemed to just multiply from one street corner to the next or came to life, including one place that did not seem to have much curb appeal but Elvin remarked is one of the happening places for night owls craving a comforting Indian fare. Apparently, Indian cab drivers would also agree, as I later find out from my student, Pallavi, who tells me that it has some of the freshest and cheapest food on Devon. I knew then that that was going to be one of the places that I would frequent.
Three years later, we are still on Elvin and Joanna’s food tour, but now we are on an organized rally. This is a food rally of sorts to explore a handful of culinary hot spots in Chicago. The first rally took place in 2009 with Joanna, Elvin, Wilson, Jenny, Shuji, Robert, and myself. We began that journey at Shokolad for their perogis and sour cream napoleon cake, then worked our way to Birreria Reyes de Ocatlan for goat tacos, and then took a couple of quick chocolate and vanilla churro bites at Don Churro. It was a very efficiently ran food caravan so that while we waited with Wilson who needed to pick up some important documents at the Chinese consulate, Elvin and the rest of the crew headed to Beard Papas to pick up an assortment of these glorious custard filled treats and were nice enough to meet us back up where we were parked to let us pick from some of the different concoctions. My favorite is taro and green tea. Though the cookies and cream were not bad either. Following this rendezvous, we decided to check out the hipster hype of Belly Shack where I rediscovered my love for brussels sprouts, while eating them roasted with chorizo bits. Our rally ended at Rapa Nui for some Chilean sandwiches and empanadas, followed with a bit of snow flurry, which seemed like an appropriate sprinkling ending to this treat. But I think I was not the only one who did not want this day to end as Elvin, our lead organizer, gave birth to the food rally yahoo group. I have to admit that 2010 just seemed to pass me by that I had forgotten about the food rally until I received an unexpected message titled “Food Rally to End 2010” from Elvin back in November. And because that time was so incredibly hectic for me, I did not actually get to respond to him until much later and at the time, could not commit to a particular date because our travel plans were still up in the air. Luckily, it worked out that Robert and I were in town on December 30th to join Joanna, Elvin, Jean, and Li Wen.
This year’s food rally began with breakfast at 10 am in Salam Restaurant, which happens to be one of our favorite places for babaganoush and shawerma so we were happy to go back. We’ve usually just gotten take-out so it was nice to sit down surrounded by amazing paintings of various historical monuments throughout the Middle East, including the Balbec, which brought back some fond memories of our Lebanon trip and reminded me of the Sabra Shatila children. Salam did not disappoint with its addictive babaganoush, which Elvin aptly described as “smoky” and the tabouleh salad provided some lemony crunch and texture every bite.
We held back and decided to only order half a dozen falafel, which I must admit seemed almost as good as the falafels from Beirut’s “roadside” stands. It was nice to see the place bustling with people so early in the morning—families gathered to have feasts like ours and children running around and hiding underneath tables, with one who seemed to have taken a liking to Jean and positioned herself underneath one of the tables where their gaze can meet each other easily. But this was a working breakfast as well—we needed to map out our next stops as Elvin asked us to name our top five choices and whichever got the most votes would be the winners. As we browsed the long list that Elvin nicely put together and even provided us with print outs, I wondered how long it would take us if we went through everything on the list. We seemed to be on similar culinary wavelengths, making it relatively easy to choose the winners, saving Elvin from having to mediate any kind of food rally dispute (do I hear bylaws soon?). Well, ok, there was a bit of a back and forthbetween Taco Chinos and Del Seoul and we decided that Del Seoul might provide us with a more “authentic” Korean tacos experience.
As we bid Salam goodbye, it was onward to start dreaming of mofongo, lechon, and jibarito at La Bomba. This is a place that Robert and I pass every time we go to the YMCA but never thought of stopping through, which, as much as the food is delectable, is one that may require us to put in double time workouts. But today, I am glad that we stopped in. It is a place that seems to take more food orders to go but after being asked if we were to eat there, were directed to the back of the room for the dining area. The place seems to just be getting ready as we pass a steaming bucket of chlorinated water waiting for a young man who was just about to mop the floor. The chairs were still up on the table so we ended up putting them together so we can sit at one of the long tables. La Bomba tested our power of concentration as we sit surrounded by the local news and all sorts of advertisements blasting from a huge flat screen television. Elvin tried to lower the volume with the remote control and one of the machines he thought might do the trick, but no such luck. And admittedly, I was afraid he would get caught and have to explain his actions to one of the two women who seemed like a force not to be reckoned with!
The food’s arrival helped us concentrate. We thanked Joanna for her “less is more” suggestion to Elvin who wondered whether one jibarito was enough to share among all of us. As the food started coming in, my eyes started to widen at the heaping portions and glad that there were six of us to share it all. Jean started slicing the alcapurria into pieces, revealing what appeared to be a very inviting concoction of chicken andmashed ripened plantains while Elvin went
for the jibarito, bravely pushing through the tough plantain core. I, on the other hand, started to stare at the lechon, which I had been wondering whether it would be as good as Filipino lechon. The true test is in the crispiness of the skin but our plate did not come with any. I am happy to say that La Bomba’s version held its own. The mofongo with shrimp was as garlicky as Li Wen warned us. But we were pleased. Spoons were donated to different plates to make it easier to scoop each dish and plates moved around the table to ensure that everyone has had sufficient helpings of each dish. As mofongo melted in our mouths and as we bit into the jibarito and savored the lechon, other guests joined the table, including figure skating champions, mayoral candidates, and talk show hosts. Jean wondered what Michelle Kwan has been up to and then we all reveled
in the fact that her career started at an early age and that she is still quite young. We somehow thought that she’d be well in her 30s or something. We were outraged by the “Ambassador” Carol Moseley Braun’s mayoral candidacy and her over the top campaigning through her coffee products, even distributing free samples at Metra stations and schools. “Whose face would you want in your morning coffee?” Elvin asked. I think we all agreed we don’t want anyone’s faces there. We were disappointed that Oprah was moving her production company to California and then, we realized we could not eat fast enough to avoid the coming of the most dreadful guest, which Jean had already anticipated—Maury Povich—with another inane episode that somehow involved naked bodies and the closet. Thankfully, we were nearing the end of the meal and in fact, could not finish all that was left on the plates. We decided we could not take the jibarito home so Elvin was a good sport and worked through the last pieces while the rest went into different boxes. As we were leaving, I tried to ask one of the women to take our photos but something got lost in translation and she seemed fearful of what I was asking her to do. I should have just spoken in Spanish but somehow her response left me tongue-tied.
It was almost 1:30 pm and we knew that our next stop, Arami, is supposed to close at 2 pm for lunch and we were determined to get there. Li Wen was searching for a ramen place in the city that would be as good or good enough to what we would find in Arlington Heights. We happily join her in this quest. And I for one, is still longing for Mitsuwa’s food court ramen and wish Icould just beam myself there everytime I have a craving. Arami was quite a contrast to La Bomba’s over-stimulating effect in the mind and spirit. Such a peaceful and calming ambiance –so peaceful that the quietness of its restaurant front can render it somewhat invisible from
the street. Instead of some loud sign, it simply had its name written on two burlap-looking fabric stretched out on two stands that lay on the two front glass windows. It did not have a big sign that told us whether it was open or closed but simply a small framed 5x7 sign on the window indicating its hours. As we walk in, Jean noticed the moss that adorned the window while I was fixated on the rocks and the bamboo that surrounded it. There were only two other people in the place sitting at the bar and one server, who I swear looks like a cousin of mine and kept wondering if he is Filipino. Based on his facial expression, he seems to be wondering the same question about me. He has to be Filipino! As we browsed the menu, Elvin asks an important question, “What is our strategy?” While we were tempted to try out the oyster donburi, we decided to go for having a ramen extravaganza and took on ramen with pork belly and beef, ramen with pork belly and kimchi, and veggie ramen (which is really supposed to be with udon) with mushrooms and all sorts of veggie goodies. I joined Jean and Li Wen for a cup of tea and so glad that I ordered one because it came in these beautiful cups. Jean and I had some combination of ginger and citrus tea while Li Wen had Gen Mai Cha.
For this feast, wedding elephants joined us. Li Wen talked about the elephants who were brought in to participate at Indian weddings and there was a question about whether they would be available in Chicago. But the bigger question is, what would they do while they are not in weddings? Would they be kept in a zoo? They remind me of the elephants we met in Thailand in 2005—those multi-talented elephants who not only performed various acrobatic tricks like lifting humans on their tusks but also knew how to paint and even sold their paintings at every show. Methinks these wedding elephants could have sideline businesses when they are not busy doing weddings. The ramen pots marched in one by one and each came topped with an egg that was so beautifully prepared and presented that you almost feel sorry to dig into it.Like the revolving plates at La Bomba, the bowls shuffled through the table as we got not one but two and three helpings of all three ramen.
I think that my favorite is the kimchi ramen because the kimchi added an intense kick to the dish. Then the donuts came along to join us, beginning with the Sweetwater donuts that come home with Elvin and Joanna on their trips to Detroit. I had my first taste of these gigantic donuts when Elvin brought some back to AARCC and I barely made it there before the students finished them. The most beloved Krispy Kreme did not have a fan at the table (sorry Madonna!) and we all wondered where we can find good donuts in the North side.
I, myself, am still looking for those “swell donuts.”
Jean is right that much is to be said about correcting the fact that most people know ramen through cup of noodles, which I myself admit is what got me through those late nights in college, until I met my college roommate, Kim Vo. She introduced me to what I thought was a “fancy” and upscale type of cup of noodles. They also came in styrofoam but they seemed tastier. Maybe it was because of the egg she would crack in the boiling water right before she poured it through the noodles. I can still see her sitting at the dining table, after having just braided her hair for the evening and removed her makeup, opening the lid of her bowl of noodles and the steam soon clouding her eyeglasses as she dug into those ramen noodles, elongating them with her chopsticks as she pulled them up and ever so skillfully catching them with her spoon. A similar phenomenon was taking place at our table as we all tried to do the same with these delectable ramen noodles, that were starting to expand quickly in our stomachs. But this did not slow down this food rally, but just required another bit of strategizing.
I think it was Elvin who suggested we do an “exercise walk” on the way to the next stop—Hoosier Mama pie shop—which was conveniently in close proximity to Arami. So onward we went, passing through interest
ing shops including one that sold all things western and whose presence on the sidewalk is marked by a big horse sculpture. “That’s a photo op,” Jean remarked. Hoosier Mama is not a big place but its presence can be smelled halfway down the block as butter (which smelled like cheese to me) permeated the air, leading us to its doorstep. There were a number of pumpkin pies, but we all went for something that seemed less
ordinary like chocolate chess, cranberry chess, something with oatmeal, and something that
was made with sour cream that was the only remaining slice. I was standing right behind Elvin
when he turned around to make sure that I wasn’t eyeing that last piece of pie. That was very thoughtful of him to ask. I forgot to tell him that I
can’t really do too much dairy since that detox program I went on. In any case, my mind was fixated on the chocolate chess.
Our short excursion to Hoosier Mama was followed by a long journey to Birrieria De La Torre on Pulaski. Fighting through some traffic and the comfort of the car heater, I fell asleep, only to wake up right before we passed Huck Finn Donuts, which looked like my high school hangout—Denny’s, but made us wonder if this was one of the donut places that Elvin recommended. One hour later, we reached the Birrieria, amazed that both cars arrived at the same time. Everyone seemed to be craving for energy, and thus went for all sorts of sugar and caffeine. It was horchata for me, Robert, and Elvin; a strawberry milkshake for Jean, and soda pop for Li Wen and Joanna. Joanna was serious because she went straight for the can of Coke. As the sugar from the horchata started to activate some brain synapses, we were faced another decision: “Two or three bowls of Carne en su Jugo?” asked Elvin. We all thought that we better stick with two bowls. After all, this entrée, was described to be “small (¼ gallon), on their menu, but upon arrival at our tables, looked gigantic!
This bowl of goodness contained heaping amounts of steak and bacon swimming in a delicious broth filled with onion and radish. While the five of us found comfort in this soup, Jean found hers in the chilaquiles verde, which also came in a huge platter.
And perhaps, as a tribute to the hugeness of what we ate, it was only appropriate that our guest at this table was an RV. I asked Joanna when Erin may be able to join us for a food rally and she pointed out that that would require some naps along the way, at which point I thought that we all could do that during a food rally as a way to rest between meals. Thus, Joanna suggested an RV would come in handy and said we can call it “Pho King.” Brilliant. This place had a cozy ambiance, with its multi-colored booths, a big poster of Jalisco, and various pictures of the food specialties that covered several parts of their walls. Families seem to frequent the place to enjoy similar bowls of goodness. None of us could finish our bowls and decided to take it home. Jean got a cup of coffee for the road to re-energize for our last stop. On the way out, I could not help but notice the impeccably clean and organized kitchen, which was visible from the street. Someone takes great meticulous care to maintain it that way, and that I found impressive. This Birrieria definitely gives us a reason to go to Midway airport area.
The return home was just as long of a journey, which again put me to sleep only to wake up when we finally reached the busy intersection of Clark and Diversey where Robert found a good parking space. We walked hurriedly to Del Seoul where Elvin, Joanna, and Li Wen were waiting and had already put in their order before we got there because they needed to head back home to meet their sitter who must leave right at 7 pm. It was close to 6:30 when we met them. The place got its steady stream of people ordering just about anything from the menu from the tacos, banh mi, dumplings and to the bibimbop and these fries topped with sautéed kimchi and pork belly. As Robert waited in line to order our take out dumplings, vegetarian bibimbop, and chicken and kalbi tacos, I said goodbye to the gang.
When we reached home and got ready to eat, I had a momentary urge to take a photo but I realized that the spirit of the day was not there any longer. Something had changed. I wondered how we would have strategized to sample Del Seoul’s offerings—Would we have ordered three or four tacos and which kind? Would we have tried the Kimchi fries even if only to check out the hype? Would everyone be curious enough to try the bibimbop? And most of all, what guest(s) would have joined us for that meal?
As this year’s food rally refueled the Bicol Express that has been dormant for over a year, I am comforted to know that as much as I am sorry to differ with the Great Panda, there is a secret ingredient to life. As far as I am concerned, it is Inspiration. As every bite triggered a fond memory or summoned the company of eclectic guests to the table, today’s adventure also reaffirmed that food is one of life’s greatest storytellers.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
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