Bao Wao Wao Yippy Yo Yippy Yay to the Pork- Baohaus in the LES.

Funkdoobiest- Bow Wow Wow


Fuck it. I give up. Back to back posts and no breaking of virginal ground. I want to plant the flag on Mt. Howfreezy, beat my chest and scream to the world that I've done it yet again. Instead I wave the white handkerchief. Is Howfresh becoming your garden variety food blogger? Uh oh. Not as long as the fitted is a bit too big for the dome. I just can't compete with Sifton & Crew at the Times. They beat me with Charles' Country Pan Fried Chicken and I continue to ride coattails with Baohaus. I'll just have to accept sheep status. "Who's the white sheep? How's the white sheep!!" Wait. White?? Baaa baaa. I had intentions of writing this long winded piece about animal sounds, but instead I'll let the skit speak for itself. An HFE post without a Cam reference? Never. Underrated rap on an underrated blog. Shit is pure laughter. A little comic relief. We can laugh right?

Cam'ron - I'm a Chicken Head (Skit)




I'm no pork bun veteran. Fairly new to the swine hot pocket, but based on the caliber of bun I've experienced, I'm confident in my skills to deem Who's Real?? Who's Fake?? Between Ippudo and Momofuku I've eaten a trough's worth of pork belly- delicious, traife, fatty, rich pork belly. So I give Eddie Huang some credit for posting up in the thick of things. Blue Momo Magic got the streets sprung, but he says fuck that and introduces Bao Wao to lower NYC. He's a baod man. The junkies (foodies, bloggers, et al.) are bugging. In fact, this shit is so strong my boy in San Fran got a whiff and kept bugging me to hit it. "Yo How, you got to get some bao. Come on dude. Let me now how it is. Dude just go. Please. Shit looks mean." Dude was open- Bubbles status. Seems as though he's not alone. During my trip there was a line and steady stream of custees the entire time. And they had to open 2 hours later on Monday after exhausting their meat supply during the weekend. Needed that re-up fams but papi was busy getting a Monday morning pedicure.



Don't get it twisted, I'm no pork bun snob. I didn't venture into the baowels of the LES with a chip on my shoulder. I was genuinely excited about this new addition to the pork bun scene. I liked the fact that Eddie Huang was into energy efficient forms of cooking and ingredients that were treated well prior to meeting their maker. He doesn't take himself too seriously as is evident by the Fresh Off The Boat theme. The scans are of stickers available at the store. He has gone so far as to label menu items Straight and Royal Frush. Yes, that is funny. Raugh out roud status? I didn't say it, he did. Dude's also a hip hop head so I knew I'd catch some decent theme music. Speaking of which, I had the Funkdoobiest lyrics floating through the mentals and knew a post was on the horizon. I'm back on my grind doggies.



The menu is limited. Quality before quantity. If your stable of hoes is buttahface status, what does really mean? 3 types of Taiwanese Gua Bao aka steamed buns- steak ($4.50), pork ($4.00) and tofu ($3.50), sweet bao fries (fried dough) and boiled peanuts. Along with several beverages. There is a beef noodle soup similar to a pho that's available on weekdays. It was a Saturday so no go. I ordered the pork (Chairman Bao) and the seldom seen steak (Haus Bao).



Not just any pork, but all natural Niman Ranch Pork Belly braised slow, as the menu says, served with cilantro, Haus Relish (pickled mustard greens), and Taiwanese red sugar. Crushed peanuts also come with, but I go peanutless. The NY Times delves even further into the cooking method, "The pork is flash-fried, and then simmered in rice wine, soy sauce, rock sugar, ginger and star anise — a technique called “red cooking” in Mandarin — plus cherry Coca-Cola." 2 slices of tender pork belly about an inch thick in a fluffy white bun. The first thing that caught me was the cilantro. I've never seen this on a pork bun before, but being a self-proclaimed cilantro fan, it was a great addition. It enhanced the semi-sweet pork and added a little aroma therapy. Ghostface in the background and we were bordering on a zen-like experience. But the corny cat across from me talking about strippers with C-section scars killed my tranquilo. First off, you're lying. Second, the girl with you wasn't impressed, and third, neither was I. Didn't your mother ever teach you about dinner table etiquette?



The steak bao made with Certified Angus skirtsteak left me confused. Red cooked like the pork, but laced. Cooley baos?? Wooly baos?? Moutai is added, chinese firewater as Huang says, known to be as strong as 100 Proof. No complaints with the texture- tender stringy steak with cilantro and the haus relish. But it reminded me of brisket. And I'm not used to that being sweet. I prefer savory to sweet when it comes to steak. This isn't to say it's not good, just not my thing. I might be alone in this opinion since the Haus Bao will be featured on Food Network's Ultimate Recipe Showdown sometime this month.



Taiwanese root beer washed it down. For $3, a bit pricey, but none of the other options interested me. Plus I love root beer.

Bauhaus is small. A short flight of stairs leads you into a bustling subterranean space. Seating is very limited and there isn't much room to meander around the diners. A blue island in the middle of the room sits approximately 10 people, 10 small people. My trip consisted of mostly Asian females so it wasn't too tight. No shots. There is a 4 seater against the wall below the window. Each bao is made to order so you will have to wait. Inside, outside, wherever. When they're ready they call you out. Be clear with your name, because I wasn't. Howie Mumbles. If it wasn't for the "H" I wouldn't have known that Harlem or Harley was me. Nah, I call myself Harlem so as not to blow my cover. They start knowing who I am and I get the red carpet treatment.

If you're in the neighborhood I fully recommend a visit for the pork bun. Pre or post game Shopsin's. Heading back from the Doughnut Plant. On your way to Alife. Whatever the reason. Get daown, get daown...

BaoHaus
137 Rivington Street
New York, NY 10002
646-684-3835
CASH ONLY
Sun-Thurs Noon - 10pm
Fri - Sat Noon - 2am
www.baohausnyc.com
F, J, M, Z to Delancey Station (Delancey & Essex)

Like Fried Chicken They Wing it Ock... Charles Country Pan Fried Chicken.

Cam'ron ft. Vado- La Bomba

Ever since I heard Cam spit his shit I knew it was title material. That time has finally arrived. I'm very proud of this moment. The fact that he's a Harlem native is purely coincidental.

Ideally, I'd be the Marco Polo of this shit. Conquistador status. Cortes really. But that is not the case. This city is just too big. And then there's Brooklyn. Ugh. Luckily many food bloggers don't carry oxygen tanks needed to venture up the hills north of 110th St. (I see you Bill Burr). So I throw on my Moncler with the Christian Dior goggles, hop in my Rossignols and slalom that bitch out. Broadway is cool, but Amsterdam gives me the best workout. And 141st? Shit. Not for the faint of heart. I've broke the sound barrier gliding down that one. Give Alexander Hamilton the nod and keep it moving.



The NY Times beat me to the punch with Charles. But I should thank them for lighting the fire to finally get my ass down there. I remember the row of Charles Southern spots in the same location but never ate there. It was an area I'd drive by en route to the FDR. No other reason. Never hit the Rucker and the Giants left the Polo Grounds more than 50 years ago so no Say Hey. Then they closed. A little less than a year later they reopened with a longer name. 7 syllables. For purposes of making things easier I'm just using Charles.



I feel like a true reviewer with this one. I've eaten here 6 times over the last 3 or so months and have been able to try the bulk of their buffet menu. So one could say I'm an expert. But this isn't about me, it's about Charles. Not true, it is about me. About me eating great food and putting on the poundage. Come summertime I'll have to walk here just to warrant the beasting. Tan and svelt in the summer. You know my steez. Speaking of which, let's pray for a safe and speedy recovery for Guru from Gang Starr. He and Premier are responsible for a large majority of my theme music from my teens to the present. A legend. Gifted Unlimited Rhymes Universal.



Enough filibustering. Time to address the bizness. The fried chicken. Cue the singing angels. The best I've had in the 5 boroughs. Better than Momofuku, Blue Ribbon, Amy Ruth's, Redhead, etc. Georgia's Eastside BBQ poses the biggest threat, but Charles takes the cake. There's a reason that Charles has been snagged up by downtown restaurants to do what he does. Patroon in the East 40s signed him up for Fried Chicken Fridays. I know it's not an apples to apples comparison, but if I said you could get 3 pieces of chicken with 2 sides and banana pudding for $25, or all the chicken, sides and banana pudding, with a drink for $13.99, which would you choose? Reminds me of the baby bull joke. Buck, I see you. It's simple mathematics, you gotta love it...



TIME OUT. Due to the recent demands for stricter disclosure requirements by the F.T.C., it's a must that I come clean. Legs are my favorite part of the chicken, aka the polke. Easy to eat, no silverware needed and a 1 handed act. I can multitask with the leg (you know, get my twitter or bbm on). As a youngin, I loved the breast. The nice supple white breast. Now I like tan legs. Go figure. With that said, I have tried the breast, the thigh, wings, etc., but the leg is where my opinions derive from. You might say, "But wait, there is less meat on the leg, so how do I know the breast, a thicker cut of meat, will absorb the same flavors and be as moist?" Good question. Answer, "Motherfucker, because I said so." I tried the breast just so that I could retort to this nonsense. No difference. Just as delicious.



Every bite incorporates the following elements: crispy, juicy, and most importantly FLAVORFUL. Ideally, you want the chicken fresh out the frying pan, but even those pieces that have been sitting in the hotbox for 30 plus minutes are delicious. None of that first bite POW to trick the mouth into thinking there's mad flavor followed by a bland finish. From the shell to the bone (huh???) the flavors emanate. A lovely golden brown exterior, some with more skin crispies than others. Those cute old chickens with extra flab. My favorite. The Times says it's not that greasy, but I don't believe you, you need more people. Let's be serious though, greaseless fried chicken is too futuristic a concept. Grease is part of the game. I wouldn't say Charles' chicken drips that juice, but don't try to use your phone, especially the ball on your blackberry before wiping your fingers. Believe that.



As the restaurant's name says, the chicken is pan fried. In the Times' article Dave Cook provides the details of the no longer top secret 3 step process. So poetic:

"Mr. Gabriel raises the bar further by adding seasoning at three stages, first through a dry rub that works its effects for a number of hours, then via the egg wash and then in the flour dredge. He fries his birds in soybean oil, in a pan whose size befits a fried-chicken superstar."

Damn, I haven't even addressed the sides yet, or the other meat dishes. All this choking the chicken, pollo petting, fowl fucking, etc. and we're not even there yet. The sides deserve a post of their own. Let's see. The mac & cheese, black eyed peas, collard greens, okra stew with corn and tomato, sauteed cabbage, yams, white rice, green beans, and potato salad. Did you say potato salad? Why yes I did. Yoooooooo. I mean yooooo. Wow. That good. Take it easy How, one step at a time. My spud fetish is getting a bit weird.



Each time I've eaten there the mac & cheese is usually the first thing put on the plate, the kind that is sectioned off, hot lunch status. That yellow is so appealing. Yellow is though- right? I know you stare at that yellow Lambo too. Does things to my brain. And this is where I go wrong. This ish is mad filling. That's a rookie move, yet I make it each time. Cheesy, rich and firm. A little hot sauce and I'm ditty bopping up for plate 2. Next up I usually throw some greens on the plate. Not sure if smoked turkey or swine is used to enhance the dish, but a small scoop provides all the salt I need. To offset the salt the okra stew is next. The sweetness of the corn and tomato paired with the okra offers a quick respite from the heavy dishes surrounding it. The yams are usually on the second plate. Too much starch to mix it with the mac & cheese. Smooth though- close to a puree, and sweet. Might throw some black eyed peas in the mix for a little earthiness, bring that sweet down. Cause we haven't even had dessert yet.



Aw man. Potato salad with hard boiled eggs in a mustard based sauce. Delicious. Heavy but refreshing. The texture, the taste. So simple yet so palatable. This has run out several times when I've been there and I never saw a re-up, so go in early and go in heavy. Possibly the best potato salad I've eaten aside from Bunk's in Portland. PDX- what's popping?



Damn, this is a long meal. Or just a long post. I'm wondering how the fuck I even make it to dessert. Then I remember the made from scratch banana pudding, and a small area in the stomach makes room for further ingestion. Vanilla wafers and sliced banana piled atop each other in a pool of vanilla pudding. Not overbearing, just pleasantly sweet. A great finale piece.



Being that the fried chicken is the pièce de résistance, I don't deem it necessary to go in on the other meat dishes. What??? The fried chix isn't enough? Bunch of jackals. I'll humor you anyway. Baked chicken, BBQ pork ribs, fried whiting (need to have hot), and various other pork and beef dishes are available on the daily. The smothered turkey wings are pretty good too. Though it seems like a lot of work for a little food. Tell 'em Ghost, baked macaroni, turkey wings, a ni... Whoa, easy killa.



The dinner buffet will run you $13.99 ($15.16 after tax)- lunch buffet runs from noon till 4pm and costs $10.99- and that includes unlimited food, sweet tea or lemonade and banana pudding. I am a slow eater and not once have I ever felt rushed. You don't need to do AYCE, you can also choose chicken and 2 sides for around $10. There are 6 tables, most 4 seaters, some 2. From what I've seen most business is takeout. The friendly service is comprised of Charles' younger relatives, always refilling your drink and removing empty plates. Weekdays they close at 11 and weekends they can stay open till 3 am. If you're lucky you might see Charles. Be sure to have a whole chicken available for an autograph. This dude is a first ballot Fried Chicken Hall of Famer. Utensils are paper and plastic, so if you're super green, get over it. Speaking of green, the vegetarians might be able to get by with most sides. Aside from the greens, I'm not sure what else is cooked in some sort of animal product. Might be some, might be none. Believe it's none. If I'm wrong, I apologize. A little mylanta will cure that tummy ache. As I leave the podium let me finish with these words of advice. When you walk in assess the situation (no Jersey Shore). Is the chicken count low? Is the mac & cheese almost out? Chances are they will be replenishing shortly so strategize wisely.

Charles Country Pan Fried Chicken
2839-2841 Frederick Douglass Blvd. (8th Ave) between 151st & 152nd Sts.
New York, NY 10039
212-281-1800
Breakfast 8am-Noon
Lunch Buffet Noon - 4pm
Dinner Buffet 4pm - 11pm Weekdays, At least 1am on Weekends - Call for hours
They now accept credit cards.
B, D to 155th St. & 8th Ave.
A, B, C, D to 145th & St. Nick- nice little walk (perfect for post meal)
3 to 148th St & Lenox Ave.

Below is the most recent menu from mid February.

H is for Hoo Dat?!?!?

Hoo Dat!! Who Dat!! What's the difference? Really. Tomato, tomahto. Might as well be H is for How late?? Too late. A little black and gold for the N'awlins famo. Had to support a great city. Was there in 2000 for Mardi Gras and I really don't remember much, but I know we had a good time. Drinking apple Boon's (Ghostface would be proud) outside the Boot at 11 am. It doesn't get any better. Plus do you really think I'd root for an Indiana team? You my friend must be bugging. As in "shall we daaaaaaaance" bugging. That's how I was taught the term back in 7th grade by my classmate Jersen. I must say that in hindsight, his example was spot on, though at the time I thought HE was bugging.



Yes, the hat is fly. Thank you. There's really no denying it. Shine blocker status for the H-aters. Ooooooweeee. Black sheen with the gold stitch Olde English H and majestic purple trim. Fuck a Saint, I'm a king in this shit. Crown Royal on the rocks please. 2 cubes.



And the Egyptian silk lining??? Seriously? Hawaiian flag Hermes scarves covering the cranium. It's that crazy. "H is for High sadity" is more like it. A Fitted Hawaii exclusive and probably the most expensive cap I ever copped. "A man's wealth is determined by his headwear," as muttered by Howfresh on February 18, 2010. This cross country and then some shipping is not a good look for my carbon footprint. Need to work on that. Strap a waterproof pack to a humpback whale as he's about to migrate east. I'd prefer a Panama Canal crossing, but if he chooses the Chile and Argentine scenic route, who am I to tell a whale how to swim?



H is also for HSIFWARC. While we're bigging up N'awlins it's an appropriate time to pay homage to one of my favorite things- crawfish. I'll admit that they've been few and far between this season. Had them only once in fact. At Mara's of course. Shipments have been sparse since the weather's been a bit too cold down south. The mudbugs stay bugging in the mud. Might need to plant some up in Inwood Park just so that I won't be lying when I brag about my locavore lifestyle. Yeah, I love this planet more than you.



So let's take a stroll down memory lane. It's May 24, 2009 we're on the east side- 23rd and the FDR- Solar 1 (the City’s first solar-powered “Green Energy, Arts, and Education Center,”) and the boil is boiling. The official 2009 Crawfish NY NOLA boil. $60 beans for Six Point kegs and all the crawdoggies one could dream of. Believe it or not- this glustacean resulted in No Mas status. The white flag had to be raised. Pinching, twisting, sucking, and chomping had to come to an end.



In total 4 heaping table loads of the delectable fresh water treat were delivered by the time the sun set. Some with corn and potatoes, other had potatoes and sausage. Mushrooms, garlic and onions were also part of the mix. The combos were endless. Factorial that shit and let me know the math. When people saw we were potatoed up they tried to swipe a spud, but we weren't having that. Get your own fucking potato.



Just mad fun- social even if you're Hermit the Crab. See how we stick to H's and shellfish. Keep up with me. Don't get dusted. Wound up meeting some good peoples that turned out to be fellow Partners in Grub. P.I.G. status. Don't judge them by their offensive t-shirts. They mean well. And mad Asians- they love crustaceans. For realz. Gnawing on the tiny claws to get out any ounce of meat. I have since incorporated that into my own playbook, so good looks.



Jackpot.



Crawfish Carnage in all its glory.

HowfreshEats Stacks (Potato) Chips Like Hebrews Vol. 8- The Road Trip Edition.

Ocho Chippo up in this bitch. Having tapped out all local tuber sources I needed to hit the road in search of more fried taters. You think I travel cause it's fun or relaxing?? Never that. Always an agenda. What we have here are 6 samples of chips west of the Mississippi. There was a bag of chips purchased in Pittsburgh- Giant Eagle I believe, but there was a BBQ going on and I couldn't go empty handed. I wish there could be more representation here, but we'll make due. Chips were purchased in Montana and Iowa, one of those 3 shitty states in a row that start with the letter "I". This time around I included images of the ingredients rather than comment on them. It's just the natural progression of things. I've already started to amass a lineup for Vol. 9 so stay tuned.

You can check out the previous 7 "Stack (Potato) Chips..." installments here: Vol. 1, Vol. 2, Vol. 3, Vol. 4, Vol. 5, Vol. 6, and Vol. 7.

Tim's Cascade Style Sea Salt & Vinegar Extra Thick & Crunchy

A mid-sized chip with nice crunch. Too sweet and salty however. Fingers look like you dipped them in a salt shaker. Caught a brief case of agita (Jersey Shersey up in here) after a couple. Doable in small doses but too intense after a bunch. Too many bent chips for my liking. Sweet aftertaste reminiscent of pie crust. Based out of Algona, WA, Tim's seems to do the right thing by both their employees and the environment. Peep more HERE. 8oz for $2.99.

Hawaiian Kettle Style Terriyaki Crispy & Crunchy

Terriyaki? Not in the least bit. More like sweet BBQ. This is out of my comfort zone but sometimes you need to try new things. The sweet makes sense since pineapples are all over the bag. Similar to the previous chip, bite-sized with a nice crunch. If you like those hokey type weird chips, you might dig this. These are part of the Hawaiian line under the Tim's umbrella.

Tim's Cascade Style Wasabi Extra Thick & Crunchy

Does it really matter how these taste when you're dipping your dogs in the Great Pacific? Stinson Beach, stand up.

I ate these months back so my recollection might be a bit weak. It was my beach bum summer days so you know I enjoyed them. Again, a nice sized chip with a strong crunch. That wasabi hits the nasals like wasabi does. Need to eat in doses. OD might be OD.

I'd like to take this time out to thank the following for providing the material in the second half of this post. Iowa's own Hiland Chips available at your local Kum & Go.
Pause.

Hiland Kettle Cooked Dill Pickles

Listen, I was in Iowa. What do you want from me? Maybe I was missing a Katz pastrami out in the great midwest and needed a reminder. First off, dill pickles are nowhere to be found in the ingredients. Neither is a pickle. And neither is dill. Those green specs on the chips are Parsley. I fucking hate parsley. Damn Iowans, get your shit straight. Majority bite-sized, yet thinner than most kettle cooked chips. Decent crunch. Off-putting after taste. Never again.

Hiland Kettle Cooked Salt & Pepper

Cardboardy. Way too much pepper, as is evident by looking above. Some chips were saltier than others. Tiny chips with minor crunch. Dare I say these might have tasted better with more ingredients, namely preservatives.

Hiland Kettle Cooked Original

Pretty good chip. Not too salty. Scratch that- super salty after a bunch. Lip numbing salt in fact. Thin chip, as noted before with a decent crunch. Feels like it's going to be a boring chip, but ends nicely. Fairly addictive if you can withstand the pain.

I wish the road trip garnered more than this but nope. Just 6 lousy bags of potato chips. I'll have to do it again once summer hits.

H is for Helping Humanity.

Helping Haiti to be more specific. I'm usually light with content, literally and figuratively as of late, but the recent disaster occurring in Haiti has really hit me and I felt compelled to write something. No soapbox, just discussion. Listening to all these interviews on local news from Haitians living in NYC that can't contact their loved ones reminds me of September 11, 2001. My father worked on the corner of Vesey and Church, the northeast corner of the Trade Center and patronized its businesses and facilities on a daily basis. Especially during mornings for his multiple cups of coffee and "fresh air" walks to light up. Following the collapse of the first tower, I frantically called him but couldn't get through. The fear that I lost my father was deeper than any pain I had ever felt. It was visceral. Made me nauseous, helpless. And while I don't know anybody firsthand on the island of Haiti, this feeling has returned. I can only imagine they're experiencing this, but worse.

It's a beautiful thing to see such an outpouring of support for the country. Already more than $10 million via SMS (Short Message Service) texts alone. Text donations are brilliant. Small denominations in volume, and so easy for the user. At times I generally think the masses are cold, heartless, couldn't give a shit about their fellow people, but moments like this renew my faith in humanity. Since Sept. 11, this is not the first disaster to strike. The Tsunami of 2004 and Hurricane Katrina are 2 of the more infamous that come to mind, though fucked up shit happens nearly every day somewhere on planet earth, my place of birth. Those events didn't evoke the same emotional response in me as the current catastrophe, and by looking at the substantial amount of money raised so far, didn't illicit the same reaction in the majority of others. Makes me wonder why. Should I be ashamed that I didn't feel the desperate urge to help before?

What has happened in Haiti has caused me to take a step back and really gauge what's important. Sneakers, fitteds, anything with an H, I love it, but let's be serious, shit isn't that serious. Food, that's another story, need to eat to live. I see something I like, I usually get it. Prior to the quake I was watching several fairly hard to find sneakers on ebay with some low prices. I was ready. Locked and loaded. Then the quake hits and those kicks really weren't a priority. In fact, the idea of spending loot on some egregious purchase, just adding to the columns of boxes, disgusted me. How dare I haphazardly drop cheese when that money could go for such a more worthy cause, people. It's fucking crazy. I could drop $200 on a pair of kicks easy, but the idea of giving just a fraction of that to charity doesn't come as fluidly. Made me feel like a fucking asshole. For real. Talk about a values and priorities check.

Listen, of course I'm not going cold turkey and retiring from the frivolous consumption game. Then I'd have nothing to write about. But maybe I'll be a bit more discerning and aware of the bigger picture. In order to look good, you got to feel clean.



With that, let's make a little transition to lighter fare. What we have here are the first additions of 2010. Both copped @ Cap City in West New York (What up Koo!!). The Astros, orange with a yellow H, button, New Era flag and underbill, navy star and navy bill happened to fit so I copped it, though I prefer the smaller logo. This was augmented a bit. I like my H like I like my titties, natural. Sorry J-Woww.



No need really to discuss the other. The consummate H logo. The Hickory Crawdads. Even though I have one that's basically identical. I can do a separate post strictly on the neurosis of that. Fuck it, we go hard.