China Poblano

Restaurant reviews are by far the rarest form of post on this blog. Since 2011, I have only done five (5) restaurant reviews. Each of those restaurants had something that stood out, and, usually it was everything about the meal.  The last review I did was back in 2021, which was for the restaurant Owamni, owned and led by Chef Sean Sherman, whose goal was to educate people about Native American foodways.

Another chef with a desire to educate people is Jose Andres. I have been to many of his restaurants: China Chilcano, Jaleo, Oyamel, Spanish Diner, and Zatinya. While all of them are amazing, one truly stands out for me. It is China Poblano. 

I often refer to China Poblano as my happy place. It is located in Las Vegas, Nevada, where I often go for work and almost never for pleasure. Every time I have to go to Las Vegas for work, I inevitably sit at one of the two bars in this particular restaurant, and have a meal that almost always is the culinary highlight of the trip, and, sometimes, the best part of the trip. 

The reason is simple: it's the food. China Poblano represents a fusion of sorts, bringing together Chinese food and Mexican food. The restaurant has two kitchens, one focuses on each cuisine. It also has two bars, where people can watch experts prepare fresh tortillas for various Mexican dishes or fresh noodles for the Chinese dishes.  Some of the dishes are traditional ones from each cuisine. Others are often an interpretation or creative take on a dish. I can still remember taking colleagues to China Poblano in 2011, where I ordered El Silencio and they watched as I ate a taco stuffed with braised duck tongues. (Needless to say, they were as grossed out as those who have watched me eat on multiple occasions the Chapulines taco at Oyamel.)

A view of the bars, from the Mexican one to the Chinese one. (Source: TripAdvisor)

I have made my way through the menu over the years. Every time I eat at China Poblano, I say to myself that I need to do a restaurant review. Every time it never happens, usually due to work or other pressing matters of life. 

This time, it is different. I decided to order two dishes from each side of the menu. Those four dishes would be the basis for this review. 

 

The first dish is a solitary carnitas taco. This single taco embraces five ingredients within a corn tortilla -- braised pork, onions, cilantro, chicharron, and salsa verde cruda. Yet, every bite brings together the rich, fattiness of the braised pork, the crispness of the chicharron, the freshness of the cilantro and salsa. This little taco represents everything that is good about pork. It is one of my favorite tacos on the menu, which usually makes it the first thing I order on the menu.

The second course is another solitary taco, which is a very close second to the carnitas taco. This tack presents itself in a completely different corn tortilla. Perhaps it should be my favorite, as it takes only four ingredients to get perfection here: grilled octopus, avocado, roast corn salsa macha and radish. I have always been a fan of grilled octopus, but the chewy texture of the octopus combined with the crisp radish and soft avocado make this taco shine. 

The last two dishes move to the Chinese kitchen. The first is a noodle bowl called Road to Xi-an.  The name derives its inspiration from the spice road, which ran through this city. Xi-An, which sits in Shaanxi province is also known for its noodle dishes. This particular dish combines shredded lamb, cumin, star anise, and beach mushrooms. The vinegar used with the mushrooms, along with the cumin and the lamb, make this a stellar dish. 

The final dish is Dan Dan Mian, which is Jose Andres' nod to a Sichuan street food. He uses hand cut wheat noodles, which are served with a spicy sauce (whose piquancy comes from pequin chiles) and roasted peanuts. Although from Sichuan, this dish was slightly less spicy than the Road to Xi-an. Nevertheless, the combination of the flavors in the sauce with the roasted peanuts was near perfection.  It was the perfect way to end the meal. 

I had actually planned on having a fifth dish, but I was so full from these four dishes that I had to pass. If you happen to get to China Poblano and have a bigger appetite than me, I would also suggest you try the Kao Lao Lao, which is a dish consisting of individually rolled oat noodles arranged in a honeycomb shape, steamed and served with a delicious sauce. 

My present travel plans do not have me returning to Las Vegas anytime soon. If that should change, then you will know where to find me. Until then ...

PEACE.

Lowcountry Brown Oyster Stew

This post about an oyster stew takes us to a very specific and incredibly important part of South Carolina's lowcountry. It is that part that overlaps with the Gullah-Geechee Corridor. The corridor itself runs from Jacksonville, Florida to Wilmington, North Carolina. However, as the corridor passes through South Carolina, it crosses islands, along with towns and cities, with the rich history of the Gullah-Geechee people. 

The Gullah-Geechee are descended from West Africans who were forcibly taken places ranging from modern day Senegal to Angola during the 18th century. The enslaved West Africans were brought to the United States to labor on rice plantations on the South Carolina's sea islands and along its Atlantic Coast. I had an opportunity to learn about this history and its profound impact upon our country as I prepared a dish of Carolina Crab Rice. (Hint: it was the knowledge and skills, along with the uncompensated hard labor, of those enslaved West Africans that created the infrastructure for, as well as enabled the successful production of, rice in South Carolina.)

The enslaved brought more than their knowledge and skills to this country, they also brought a variety of ingredients that were not part of the American-table at that time. This recipe captures some of those ingredients. For example, dawadawa or fermented locust beans. The fermenting of locust beans can be traced back to the 14th century, and its use in the preparation of food goes equally far back in time. Cooks in African countries like Nigeria, Benin and Ghana use dawadawa in many iconic dishes, like Jollof, as well as soups or stews like Fakoye. Locust beans are typically not cultivated, rather they are dispersed by people and animals. That brings us to the connection between Africa and the "New World." Slaves brought these locust beans with them as they were forcibly taken from Africa and transported to various places in North America, like the South Carolina coast, or the Caribbean. That may be one reason why one can find locust beans, as well as dawadawa, in Haiti. 

Dawadawa (Source: Slow Food)

Another interesting ingredient is the dried crayfish powder. As someone who has used dried shrimp when preparing dishes from Sri Lanka, I have a little familiarity with the umami-like scents and tastes that the ingredient can provide to a dish. The use of dried crayfish powder is used for that very purpose -- to add umami -- in dishes prepared along the African coastline of modern day Ghana and Benin. The technique of drying crayfish - which thrive in freshwater and some brackish water -- could have been brought with Africans so that they could preserve this source of protein for use in dishes.

Both dawadawa and dried crayfish powder are more than ingredients; they embody culinary techniques. A natural processing of ingredients from the land or the water to obtain something more. This particular recipe highlights that fact. The use of dawadawa and ground crayfish powder, along with the sundried tomato powder, served as a substitute for bacon or smoked pork. These ingredients provided elements that mimic smoked flavors, earthiness and richness that one would ordinarily get from using diced up bacon or smoked ham.  

Together, these ingredients helped to produce a stew that I have to say is far more complex and delicious than any oyster stew made with heavy cream. If I had my druthers, I would produce a huge batch of this stew and enter as a contestant in the next Oysterfest held by the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum in October 2025. It probably would not win (as the winners are usually the heavy-cream based stews), but it would introduce a completely different, but equally authentic and historic, way to prepare this dish to an audience who would probably never have the opportunity to taste it. 

LOWCOUNTRY BROWN OYSTER STEW

Recipe from Saveur

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 2 teaspoons toasted benne (sesame seeds)
• 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/2 teaspoon lemongrass powder
• 4 tablespoons all purpose flour
• 3 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 celery stalk, finely chopped
• 1 small yellow onion, finely chopped
• 1.5 tablespoons sundried tomato powder
• 2 teaspoons Caribbean bay leaf powder or 2 dried bay leaves; 
• 1.5 teaspoon crawfish powder or dried shrimp powder
• 2 teaspoons ground dawadawa
• 1.5 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1.5 teaspoon onion powder
• 1.5 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1 teaspoon chipotle powder
• 2 pints shucked fresh oysters
• 6 cups seafood stock, vegetable stock or water
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more
• 2 tablespoons finely chopped onion sprouts or chives

Directions:

1. Toast the spices. in a large skillet set over medium-low heat, add the benne, ginger powder and lemongrass powder; toast until golden-brown, 3-5 minutes. Remove from heat. 

2. Prepare the roux. In a large pot over medium high heat, whisk together the flour, 2 tablespoons of oil and the butter. Stir continuously until the roux turns a dark chocolate brown color, about 5 minutes. 

3. Saute the vegetables. In a separate skillet over medium high heat, add the remaining oil, celery and onion. Cook, stirring frequently, until soft and translucent, about 3 minutes. Remove from the heat. 

4. Continue working with the roux. Turn the heat down to low, then add the tomato powder, bay leaf powder, dawadawa, crawfish powder, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika and chipotle powder. Cook, stirring continuously until fragrant, about 1 minute. Stir in the celery-onion mixture and then slowly pour in the oyster liquor and the tock, stirring continuously until all the liquid is incorporated into the roux. Add the salt, turn the heat up to medium-low to bring the stew to a boil, then turn the heat back down to maintain a simmer. Cook until the broth is thick enough to coat the back of a wooden spoon and has reduced by about a third, 40 to 45 minutes. 

5. Finish the dish. Remove the stew from the heat, then immediately stir in the oysters (the residual heat will cook them). Season to taste with more salt as needed. Ladle the brown oyster stew into wide soup bowls, garnish with onion sprouts and reserved benne seed-ginger-lemongrass mixture and serve hot. 

PEACE.

Arrachera Verde

My parents bought me Bricia Lopez's Asada, The Art of Mexican Style Cooking for my birthday. It is a cookbook that I have wanted for some time. I wanted to learn more about Mexican cooking, as well as to do more grilling and smoking of meats, seafood and vegetables. As I read the cookbook, I began to make mental lists of the recipes that I wanted to make. One of those recipes is Arrachera Verde. 

The name translates to green skirt steak, which raises a question and provides a nod to its preparation. First, the question is around the meat. While arrachera may mean "skirt steak," the recipe calls for flap steak. That latter is also known as bavette, a thin and chewy cut of meat that is very popular in France, Argentina and Uruguay.  However, I have found that flap steak is not very common or available, at least around where I live. So, I had to look for a substitute, which led me back to skirt steak. Flank steak is also a workable substitute. Both skirt steak and flank steak share many characteristics with flap steak, being thinner cuts, as well as more fibrous and chewy.

The nod goes to the marinade. Perhaps the most green of the marinades is chimichurri. Indeed, Bricia Lopez notes, Arrachera Verde utilizes a marinade that is inspired by chimichurri. The recipe calls for a lot of herbs -- basil, mint, parsley and oregano -- for the marinade. Other classic chimichurri ingredients, like garlic and olive oil, help to round out the marinade. As the photo to the right shows,  the marinade does look a lot like a chimichurri.

The one thing that I like about the marinade is that the recipe says that only thirty (30) minutes are needed before the meat is ready for the grill. (Obviously, one can marinate the meat overnight, but the fact that a short marinade period raises a question for me as to whether a long period is necessary - that may have to await another post.) More importantly, the short marinating period makes the recipe something that can be made as dinner on a busy weekday.

While this blog readily illustrates that I have made quite a few chimichurri recipes over the years, I have to admit that I have rarely made recipes that use flap steak, skirt steak or flank steak. That is another reason why I wanted to make this recipe. I wanted to use a cut of meat that has not been a regular part of my repertoire.

This recipe also led me to another recipe, Salsa de Pina Tatemada. This recipe takes a salsa two ways that are different. First, it incorporates grilled ingredients, like grilled garlic and red onions. Second, it incorporates pineapple, which I have to say I don't usually use when making salsas. But, this salsa really worked and it is amazing with the grilled skirt steak.

One last note, Arrachera Verde with Salsa de Pina Tatemada is best served with corn tortillas. That seems, at least for me, to take me to what asado really is in Mexico.

ARRACHERA VERDE

Recipe from B. Lopez, Asada at 74

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 cup loosely packed basil leaves
• 1 cup loosely packed fresh mint
• 1 cup loosely packed fresh parsley
• 1/4 cup fresh oregano leaves
• 2 Fresno chiles
• 3 large cloves garlic, peeled
• 1 lemon, zested and juiced
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 1 teaspoon citrus vinegar
• 2 tablespoons sea salt
• 2 pounds flap steak
• Warm tortillas, for serving
• Salsa de Pina Tatemada, for serving

Directions:

1. Marinate the steak. In a food processor, add the basil, mint, parsley, oregano, chiles, garlic, lemon zest and juice, olive oil, vinegar and salt. Pulse until a smooth paste forms.  Pat the steak dry with paper towels and place it in a large bowl. Rub the paste mixture all over the meat. Cover and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes or overnight.

2. Prepare to grill. Remove the meat from the refrigerator to allow it to reach room temperature before grilling if possible. Start a charcoal or gas grill. The gas should be set to high. If using a pellet grill, preheat your grill to 450 degrees Fahrenheit for at least 15 minutes. If using charcoal, the coals should be red but entirely covered with gray ash.

3. Grill the steak. Remove the meat from the marinade and put it on the grill directly over the fire. Close the lid and cook, turning once, about 4 to 5 minutes on each side. Transfer the meat to a cutting board and let rest for 5 minutes. 

4. Finish the dish. Slice the meat against the grain. Serve with warm tortillas and the salsa. 

PEACE.

On Count Rostov's Plate: Latvian Stew

December 1922.  Count Alexander Rostov sat, by himself, in the middle of the restaurant referred to by the Count as the "Piazza."  Alexander was not alone, for there was a couple sitting at a nearby table. The male counterpart of this couple was talking about a conference to unify the Soviet republics. This encounter took place in December 1922. It would have been Christmas season, but, in that year, it was the birth of the Soviet Union. The female counterpart turned to a technical conversation about the "Transcaucasian question." (I am curious as to which one, as there were -- and still are -- many Transcaucasian questions.) Before the man could answer, a nearby accordion player began playing a number with a Spanish flair. The music was from The Nutcracker. (Emil Towles, The Gentleman of Moscow, pages 95-96.)

That provides the setting for what happened next, and, by extension the recipe that is the subject of this part of my On Count Rostov's Plate series. It is perhaps, from a culinary view, one of the most interesting aspects of the story. What happens next provides a window into life as a nascent Soviet Union came to terms with new economic, social and ideological principles. 

The waiter -- referred to as "the Bishop" by Count Rostov because of his appearance -- is standing over the couple ready to take their order. As Towles recounts: 

But for a hopeful young man trying to impress a serious young woman, the menu of the Piazza was as perilous as the Straights of Messina. On the left was a Scylla of lower-priced dishes that could suggest a penny-pinching lack of flair; and on the right was a Charybdis of delicacies that could empty one's pockets while painting one pretentious. the young man's gaze drifted back and forth between these opposing hazards. But in a stroke of genius, he ordered the Latvian stew. (Id. at 96.)

Latvian stew -- a dish of pork, onions and apricots -- that was both exotic and a call to "the world of grandmothers and holidays...." 

In writing his book, and, in particular this part of the story, author Amor Towles recounted his own encounter with the Scylla and Charybdis. While he chose to use the Latvian stew, Towles had his own questions about the dish. He had a recipe for the dish from Saveur, but the ingredients did not include any wine, spices or stock. But, that was the point, as Count Rostov recalls (because he also ordered the dish): "The onions thoroughly caramelized, the pork slowly braised, and the apricots briefly stewed, the three ingredients come together in a sweet and smoky medley that simultaneously suggest the comfort of a snowed-in tavern and the jangle of a tambourine." That is quite the review.

LATVIAN STEW

Recipe from Book Club Cookbook, written by Amor Towles

Serves 6-8

Ingredients:

• 3 pounds boneless pork shoulder, trimmed and cut in to 1-inch pieces
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 6 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
• 6 carrots, peeled trimmed and sliced cross-wise
• 4 tablespoons tomato paste
• 5 cups of water
• 1 cup dried apricots
• 1 pound white boiling onions, peeled, each cut into 6 wedges
• 1 cup pitted prunes

Directions:

1.  Begin the stew. Season the pork with salt and pepper. Heat 3 tablespoons of the oil in a large heavy bottomed pot over medium-high heat. Add the pork and cook, stirring occasionally, until the meat releases all of its juices and is no longer pink all over, about 5 minutes. Add the carrots and cook until slightly tender, about 10 minutes. Stir in the tomato paste and water, then add apricots. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium-low, and gently simmer, uncovered, for 45 minutes.

 2. Sauté the onions. Meanwhile, heat remaining oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onions and cook, stirring often, until deep golden brown, about 15 minutes.

3. Finish the dish. Add the onions and prunes to the stew and continue to simmer over medium-low het until the pork is tender and the sauce has thickened, about 30 minutes more. Adjust seasonings. Serve with boiled potatoes, buttered and garnished with chopped parsley.

PEACE.

P.S.: If you are looking for a wine to pair with this dish, Count Rostov would strongly recommend a Mukuzani, a Georgia red wine produced from the Saperavi grape. In the Count's words, "the Georgians practically grow their grapes in the hopes that one day they will accompany such a stew." (Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow, pg. 98.) The author, Amor Towles, hints that any good red table wine will suffice.