The Land of Milk and Honey

It may come as a surprise to those who know me, but my Sunday routine as a kid largely surrounded the church. I would wake up at an ungodly hour of 8a (on a weekend!), gobble down a quick breakfast, followed by hours of bible school, then a trip to the church buffet (where I learned the wonders of Hawaiian punch and baked egg), and lastly, 4 more hours of choir.

That ended as I entered my teenage rebellion years. I took a strong stand by sleeping in on Sundays, therefore effectively ending my spotless record of church attendance.

Although I've now been church-free for quite a few years, many bible stories stayed with me, especially the adventures of Moses. Being a natural-born foodie, that story has been my favorite because of all the miracles surrounding food. Falling sweet manna from the sky, the quest to find "the land flowing with milk and honey" (aka Israel)—nothing else tops it for me.

So, during my recent trip to New York, I too, went on a pilgrimage to the land of milk and honey. In this case, it's the top-secret bar with the same name. Highly recommended by my friend and pastry chef extraordinaire, M&H is a intimate, speakeasy that focuses on cocktails and nothing else.

Getting in is a mission in itself as the bar is a members-only establishment—the other alternative is to be referred by a member. Fortunately in my case, I fall under the latter category and the chef took care of it all.

At the time of my reservation, my friends and I arrived on time in front of a nondescript door on a quiet (sketchy) street. The only marker that let me know I was at the right place was the discreet M&H sticker—and a couple was there quietly bargaining with the hostess. They had no reservations but still wanted to go in, to which the hostess politely referred them "to a bar down the street with a star on the door." Ouch.

As the rejected couple slumped away, the hostess looked over expectantly and I barely managed to squeak out my name. Her demeanor changed immediately and warmly directed my party and I to a leather booth where a server promptly asked us what were our spirit of choice and favorite taste profile. That's right, there are no menus—every libation is customized to each patron. *Also, a note for vodka lovers: M&H unfortunately do not serve vodka, sorry.

I ordered St. Germain and super fruity and as for my friends: aged rum and smokey; gin and tart; and gin and sweet. As we waited for our drinks, we surveyed the establishment. The space is narrow and long, with several leather booths and small candle lit bar where a lone bartender furiously shook cocktails through the night. In the bathrooms, there is a framed rules of conduct to keep things classy. Overall, the atmosphere was relaxed and refreshingly not crowded—a welcomed change to the hustle and bustle of New York.

Our server came back later with our cocktails and we were in heaven. My drink tasted like a fresh strawberry field with a slight flowery aftertaste and my friends' drinks all tasted exactly like their requests.

What's particularly notable is the attention to the ice cubes used in all our prospective concoctions. In my case, I wanted something light, so mine came in a towering cup of little cubes which, as they melted, maintained the perfect alcohol level and taste. As for my friend, his drink incorporates a deep rum, so the bartender used one big ice cube that barely melted but kept his drink nice and cold.

We stayed for one more impeccable round of refreshments before calling it a night. And what a night it was.

Ippudo > Daikokuya

As much as I hate to admit this being a devoted Angeleno and all, NY has better ramen than LA. I've scoured my entire hometown too for the best: Santouka for their succulent cha shu; Shin-Sen-Gumi for their rich, customizable broth and noodles; and Daikokuya for overall best-in-show. I thought I got it all figured out... until I tried the wondrous brew that is the Ippudo Akamaru Modern.

I have my friend in New York to thank for this stunting revelation. He took me there during my visit to The Big Apple and told me this was simply the best. I scoffed at first, but after seeing the intense line out front, I kept my mouth shut and followed his lead and in turn had the greatest ramen to date. I took detailed notes and here are the golden rules to follow for the best possible experience at Ippudo.

Rule No. 1

Go during odd hours during weekdays—unless you derive pleasure from waiting in long lines. Excellent times are early lunch and during the golden period called "Linner." If you must go at peak hours, don't wait outside like the uninformed, but enjoy a cold one at their ramen covered bar instead.

Rule No. 2

Once you get seated, order their pork belly buns as an appetizer and share with a friend—you won't regret this. Now, they say Momofuku has the best pork buns in the biz, but I beg to differ. Although theirs is stellar, Ippudo's buns are even better.

Reason is that they're more generous with their pork. Sandwiched between delicate steamed buns are hefty slices of unctuous, tender hog belly bathed in a sweet and spicy sauce. On top is just the right amount of crisp lettuce for texture and a dab of mayo. That, my friends, makes for the perfect sandwich.

Rule No. 3

Get the Akamaru Modern and enjoy. No need to scour their lengthy menu, because this is king. The AM has the original soup base, but they spiked it with a spoonful of what I like to call, "MSG NOS." The reason being is that no one knows for sure what's in this paste other than miso and roasted garlic, but that is what gives the AM its superstar status.

And oh yes, don't forget to ask for garlic. Raw cloves comes with a press—put one in your ramen and let it steep for a minute. It adds a different dimension to the ramen.

The AM hits you like an expensive perfume with clear top and base notes. First, you can taste the fresh scallions, springy noodles (made in-house no less) and crisp wood ear mushrooms. Then you really taste the pork, both in its material form and its essence in the soup. It's strong, yet delicate at the same time with no greasy aftertaste, unlike Santouka brew. Daikokuya's soup is flavorful, but it lacks that balance that Ippudo is so skillful in accomplishing. Also, Daikokuya also use milk in their soup, which always gives me a stomachache afterwards (I'm cursed with lactose intolerance). It's so good I went back on my own a week later just before my flight home.

Now you know the rules... get a plane ticket and start eating!

Side note: Saw this in the Native American exhibit in The Natural History Museum... could that be they they have experience ramen?