"CURRY NOODLE TIME;The Sam Woh Experience
I had my first taste of curry noodle in 1970. The aromatic vapor from
the concoction engulfed my face, clearing the sinuses, helping a hangover
too. It warmed the soul and had the attributes of a magical potion. I was
23, living in San Francisco and working at Rolling Stone magazine. I'd just
read "Down in Out in Paris and London," George Orwell's account the fine
folks who were drawn to the food arts. This book made me I look at dining
establishments as theater, often theater of the absurd. Among patrons and
cook staff one could see people harboring second and third-- sometimes
dysfunctional-- personalities that hovered just below the surface, waiting
to jump into the fray and set the dining drama moving in another direction.
SAM WOH noodle house on Washington just north of Grant Avenue in San
Francisco's Chinatown was such a place. Mecca for curry noodle lovers. It
was a two story joint, with kitchen on the ground floor. To get to the food
you had to run a gauntlet of oriental cook staff who were to the cleaver
what Machine Gun Kelly was to the Tommy Gun. Back then they didn't look
favorably on stoned-out roundeyes traipsing in in the middle of the night.
You'd pass through clouds of steam rising from big soup and noodle
cauldrons, climb a flight and a half of steep stairs and find a stool at one
of the tables in the long, narrow dining room. It was more like the galley
on a Liberian registered tramp freighter. No armchair dining here.
The late night crowd was dotted with celebrities, gamblers, musicians, old
beatniks, hippies and oriental faces with far away eyes who probably just
floated out of an opium den. Nobody seemed to know who "SAM WOH" was. Ask
an oriental and you'd get a blank stare.
Menus were posted on the walls in Chinese like Red Guard pronouncements.
Anglos ordered by pointing to what another anglo was eating until they
learned the system. It was a simple array. Broth with flat rice noodle,
pork and vegetables; broth with thin semolina noodle with pork and
vegetables, or boiled rice noodle with pork and vegetables on a plate.
Fried broad flat rice noodle with pork and vegetables was also available.
There was also a raw fish salad with spicy sauce and slices of fresh ginger.
Some of the toothless old-timers scarfed down a thick rice gruel. These old
boys always stationed themselves downstairs at a communal table near the
door. Most appeared as down and out as anything Orwell ever wrote about.
SAM WOH was small but did volume business and everything was fresh; noodles
were made from scratch; the barbecue pork came from a nearby butcher. Fish
and veggies were from local markets.
The curry noodle has never been topped in my book. Dosanko and other
japanese-style larmen houses in New York and on the Coast come close, their
broth is too salty, the noodles too thin. SAM WOH excelled in taste and
presentation, in an oversize bowl with a dollop of catsup in the center and
a tablespoon of curry powder atop it, supported by oodles of broad rice
noodles were Diced scallions floated around the catsup adding flavor and
aroma. Adding a touch of soy sauce, the mix resembled spicy Indonesian
"katjap." This was a unique taste for San Francisco eateries at that time.
But it was a despotic head waiter known as Edsel Ford Fung that made SAM WOH
such a formidable Babylon-by-the-Bay institution. Edsel, big for an
oriental chap at 6' 200 lbs. in his whitewall crew cut, long apron and
omnipresent game-face scowl. If you walked in at prime time and didn't know
Edsel you were in for some first-class abuse taking. He was the Pol Pot of
noodledom and when it came to insults, he took no prisoners.
If there was a line and you weren't a regular, even if you were at the head
of it, you'd have to wait. If you asked questions about the food, Edsel
would point to menus tacked to the wall, all in chinese. He would slide
your bowl across the table, not minding if some of it messed your pants or
shirt along the way. He'd throw the chopsticks onto the table like they
were a pair of dice. And to make matters worse, he'd laugh about it, right
in your face.
Mao said everybody eats from the same pot of soup but Edsel let you know he
was an ardent supporter of Generalissimo Chaing Kai-Shek. Probably never
read Lao-Tze, but he sure believed in the divide and conquer theory. So
much in fact that he would sometimes split parties of four at different
tables in order to fill all the seats in the joint, one winding up as a
solitaire amongst complete strangers. Then he'd get the orders confused,
writing the wrong order note then sending it downstairs on the dumb waiter.
People would have to eat what he gave them. Sometimes the line would go all
the way down the stairs and when you got to the top of that he didn't know
you, it was always "you wait!" and he'd move some regulars up for seating.
And if somehow he was distracted and you got by him to seat yourself, he
would make you get up, sit you someplace else, just to remind you who was
running the show. It was a good show, as long as the soup stayed hot. When
Edsel would see you were finished he'd send his flunky over with a broom to
go through the motions of sweeping the floor, then he'd come by to "pre-bus"
your table. Regulars got to linger if they had gossip to trade.
I was lucky. A friend who took me to SAM WOH for the first time operated an
X-rated movie house on Sutter Street and provided Edsel with a weekly ration
of free passes. In turn, Edsel doled out the passes to his Chinatown pals,
increasing his status among certain elements of the community. Thanks to
that friend I got first class treatment, avoiding the abusive right of
passage. There was also Edsel's "special tea," made from ginseng extract,
dispensed only to insiders, a signal that you were on his good side. If you
asked for the "special tea", he would always say "out." He doled it out.
And it could be quite a wake up call.
Herb Caen, the legendary columnist at the San Francisco Chronicle would
lunch at SAM WOH, which made the despotic Edsel very happy. In his column
Caen would quote Edsel on local politics and Chinatown gossip. Edsel's
responses featured as many oxymorons as a Yogi Berra line. He would beam at
regulars, showing them his name in that day's Chronicle. When a curious
stranger would butt in, he would unleash a volley of expletives. It was
ironic that the people he abused the most seemed to give him the largest
tips. And they kept coming back for more abuse.
Edsel passed on to the great noodleland in the sky during the 80s. But for
those who ate curry noodle and watched his show, his legend lives.
If interested in carry out service call (415)982-0596.
Anonymous is executive chef at "Chez You Know Who" Somewhere on the West
Coast
This perennial favorite is fast becoming extinct because home cooks find it
difficult. We set out to correct this misconception. I explored every
known technique for fry-stirred Chop Suey. Our goal was two-fold:"This perennial favorite is fast becoming extinct because home cooks find it
difficult. We set out to correct this misconception. I explored every
known technique for fry-stirred Chop Suey. Our goal was two-fold:
Written by Chef Gary Holleman, well known cookbook author, and recognized authority on the impact of technology in the food service industry. This interesting article is his personal diary recounting the "Chef's Collaborative 2000 Retreat" last year in Puerto Rico.
As Gary told me
Written by Eric Ehrmann @1996,
Eric Ehrmann
Eric Ehrmann lives and writes in Albuquerque, New Mexico. He was one of
the original contributors to Rolling Stone Magazine. He has lectured at the
University of Virginia, the Indiana University School of Journalism and the
University of New Mexico.
After reading about chop suey on Chef Mars' website, I got to
thinking about another Chinese dish, curry noodle soup, otherwise known when
ordering as curry noodle.
"Making the Perfect Chop Suey"
Written by Anonymous © 1996
Posted Nov. 14, 1996
1) to
duplicate the Proustian memory of the je ne sais quoi of 1950's red velvet
Chinese restaurant Chop Suey, without compromising our high standards for
complex flavor and textural contrasts;
2) to reduce kitchen toil to the minimum for working families.
We considered four variables:
Which ingredients are indispensable to the
perfect Chop Suey;
technique;
cooking times;
and the exact proportions of seasoning.
Other essential factors were the choice of utensil (gas or
electric); and choice of the appropriate apron.
The Apron
Williams-Sonoma carries a high-quality designer model, quite alluring, but
adding nothing to Chop Suey technique. We sent it back. DKNY's version was
tempting, but the short length left hot oil splatter on our Chefwear baggies.
Surprisingly, the K-Mart polyester model (red and black) suited us best and
set the perfect mood for our Suey.
Ingredients
Select dull green, yet compact heads of Withering
Mustard Choy; Warm and Fuzzy Melon, well-gnarled hands of ginger and an
armful of bean sprouts (soy, never mung!). If you're lucky, there will be
fresh water chestnuts. Select those with the thickest coat of mud for they
are the sweetest. (See cOOK's back issue # 4, the article on de-mudding
water chestnuts with a basic sun-dried water chestnut recipe and variations.)
At the seasoning and sauces aisle select a large jar of something with no
English on the label whatsoever, and above all, no Nutrition Facts.
Cleaver technique is critical for a high quality Chop Suey. Pay attention to
The Chop
At 9:00 PM Hong Kong time (8 :00 AM EST) I tried chopping the vegetables with
my Chinese cleaver, sharpened on Mongolian whet stones. Next I used my
French chef's knife, and finally a Ginzo gadget - see Sources. Obviously,
the latter produced the best cut, slightly ragged, with homestyle panache.
In every case you must use short, rapid chops on a cut-off tree stump, where
available; a Taiwanese nylon cutting board yielded almost as nice results,
but wood contributed more authenticity.
Cooking Time
This is the most important factor for a perfect Chop Suey. We tried
fry-stirring for five, fifteen, and sixty minutes, tasting and rinsing the
palate with Mai Tai between batches. We all agreed that the shortest cooking
time tasted best, but that one hour was necessary for complete dissolution of
ingredients and satisfying mouthfeel, while yielding a high degree of widely
accepted standards. We decided to give it a second round with a re-supply of
Mai-Tai. The gang of four tasters included Dong Zhao Pengs personal chef on
loan; a local Chinese take-out delivery cyclist; and two sous chefs from our
restaurant (specializing in Pac/Rim nouvelle).
Seasonings
Common flavorings include ordinary chemically-brewed soy sauce with
hydrolized vegetable protein (see sources); duck sauce, salt, garlic powder,
sugar, and a pinch or two of crystalline, not lump, "good taste powder"
(no-msg to you). To verify this we tried an organic, three-year old D.O.C.G.
soy from Japan, but found it too aggressive, overpowering the flavor of the
vegetables. Sugar is optional, but more authentic; use more when cooking
for non-Chinese guests. A shot of Cold Duck cooking wine at the end improved
flavor. However, it diluted the cornstarch slurry too much, so finally we
omitted the extra wine and the chefs finished the bottle.
Sample Recipes
Basic Chop Suey
Rhode Island Chop Suey Sandwich
Thai-Style Chop Suey Salad with Grilled Asian Goat Cheese
Sources:
Ginzo knife: The Home Shopping Channel, item #7/1882, offered nightly at
3:00 AM.
Ingredients: Soy sauce and duck sauce. Ask for extra freebee packets at
your local Chinese take-out. Do not dilute.
"Chef's Collaborative 2000 Retreat"
Posted Oct., 1996
"The word sustainable implies concern for the entire process of food choices
in this case. Included is the ag. method, the transportation of food, the
marketing, the preparation and even the diet of the person eating. So for
instance, if a melon is grown organically but trucked 5000 miles from Chile
to supply a chef in the "off" season, one might not consider it
"sustainable." This of course doesn't mean that chefs shouldn't buy them but
that careful consideration should be given. Some of the chefs would never
consider buying a Chilean melon, others buy them all the time. Sustainable
might also include not using varieties of fish that are over-fished. Or
serving menues that are not healthy since they could not be sustainalble for
the diner. Or is might include not buy from a farmer that uses slave-like
migrant workers, because the lifestyle is not sustainable."