Of course, the downside to this is your immense sadness over the fact that you won’t be able to sample those flavors until you travel back there again.

Which is why I just about had a fit when I heard that Portland, Ore., chef Andy Ricker was opening Pok Pok NY in Brooklyn.

Now, I had the great fortune of dining at Pok Pok in Portland not once but twice last year thanks to my book travels — Ricker’s Thai and Southeast Asian noodle dishes tantalized; his intensely flavorful crispy fried chicken wings were seared in my memory. Each time I left I found myself wishing he had a branch in New York.

And then, a few weeks ago, it happened …

Before we made the trek to his almost-Red Hook location, we had been warned — the place is small and the wait tends to be an hour or more.

At 8:30 p.m. on a Sunday, this proved to be true — the tiny place was packed to the gills. The host said it would be an hour or more and took my number down. (He texted the moment we left to wait it out at a nearby boite so I had his number to text back should our plans change. A nice touch, I thought.)

Just over an hour later, a text came summoning us to the restaurant, where the host led us around the side of the restaurant, over a dark gravel parking lot to a large bright tent attached to the back of the building.

This being a cold night, we were concerned about the temperatures — the host assured us it was heated, even though it sure didn’t feel like it. Since we didn’t want to wait any more, we started ordering.

The restaurant’s signature Vietnamese fish sauce chicken wings ($12.50) were a must, of course — marinated in fish sauce and palm sugar then tossed with garlic and deep fried, these were heavenly when we had them in Portland.

Perhaps it was me but while the Brooklyn ones were tasty, they were not as sticky, crispy or coated with garlic as …

… the ones I’d had in Portland, which came so coated with savory chunks I practically had to pick them out of my teeth.

A chef friend had highly recommended the sai ua samun phrai ($14), grilled Chiang Mai sausage (flavored with Burmese spices and other aromatics) with spicy chili dip and Thai pork rinds.

This was fine all around — I loved the taste combination of the char from the sausage with fresh veggies and basil on the plate. (Although, I have to admit my favorite thing on this dish was the pork rinds — these were outstanding. If Pok Pok NY sold them by the bag I would have bought a kilo.)

I am a sucker for any omelette with shellfish in it and Pok Pok NY has one of these on the menu — the $14 hoi thawt, a chunky crepe with mussels, bean sprouts and garlic chives. Served with a side of sriracha, this was very satisfying.

As was the $15 gingery prawns baked in a claypot and topped with vermicelli.

The dish that stole my heart, however, was the laap plaa duuk yaang isaan ($14), a roasted catfish salad packed with minced galangal, mint, chilis and more that was so filled with complex flavor that I actually started chewing very slowly so I could try to dissect the spices in it. As salads go, this was unforgettable — and I loved the slight crunchiness the toasted rice powder sprinkled on top added.

The desserts did not disappoint either — I loved the Chinese-style fried dough sticks that came with our affogato. In Singapore, I love to dunk these into hot soy milk for breakfast or a late supper — turns out they work just as well in affogato as well.

And our coconut bread sundae — while a little sweet for me — was a hit at our table.

Durian — otherwise known as the “king of fruit” in Southeast Asia — is one of my absolute favorite things. So I practically jumped out of my seat when our waiter mentioned it.

“Is it fresh?” was my first question. And he assured me that of course, it was. This surprised me because durian is pungent — if you love it like I do, that’s terrific. But if you are one of those who thinks it smells like a cross between poo and burnt tires then, well, that’s not so terrific. I’m always surprised when it makes an appearance in restaurants.

And here, when it arrived, given how I could hardly smell it even though the dish was right in front of me, I knew that this certainly wasn’t fresh durian packed into a cube. In fact, its taste had been watered down so much you could barely detect it.

Overall, the meal was pretty good — apart from the fact that we were freezing the entire time in the said heated tent. Until the next time I head back to Portland, Pok Pok NY will do very nicely in tiding me over.

Pok Pok NY, 127 Columbia Street, Brooklyn, New York; 718.923.9322; http://www.pokpokny.com/home/ ; pokpokny@gmail.com

No, it isn’t the fact that it’s the very first book I’ve ever blurbed. (“A charming tale of moving to Paris for love—and staying for food. Ellise Pierce’s delicious accounts of weaving together Texas and French cuisines will leave you hungry. But what truly satisfies are the lovely stories that bind them all together.” — Cheryl Lu-Lien Tan, author of A Tiger in the Kitchen: A Memoir of Food and Family)

Or the fact that I’m mentioned in it. (Hello, page 189!)

Rather, it’s that in the close to three years in which I’ve been cooking along with Ellise over at Cowgirl Chef in our monthly Let’s Lunch Twitter lunchdate, I’ve been thinking: Why isn’t this woman writing a cookbook?

I’ve salivated over her black pepper strawberry scones, sundried tomato pesto palmiers and far more, thinking all of these need to be compiled in a book somewhere. Well, that time has come — Ellise’s cookbook hits bookstores May 15 and I couldn’t be happier for her.

To celebrate the occasion, the Let’s Lunchers decided on a virtual toast. In honor of Ellise’s blending of Texas and French cuisines, we’re each offering up a dish that melds two cultures. (Extra points if one of the two cuisines has roots in Texas or France.)

And so I’m thrilled to present: Goan pork curry tacos …

Now, I’m fairly new to making tacos at home, having been turned onto them recently by Joe Yonan, a fellow Let’s Luncher, whose lovely cookbook “Serve Yourself: Nightly Adventures in Cooking For One” has a recipe for great breakfast tacos.

Since then, I’ve pretty much decided that tortillas lend themselves well to just about everything. So why not a hearty curry?

I immediately thought of a Goan pork curry a Singaporean friend taught me, a recipe handed down by his Indian immigrant grandmother. It’s vinegary, spicy and gingery all at once — a complex combination of flavors that’s unforgettable.

This curry is terrific with plain white rice and, it turned out, delicious on tacos as well, topped with cilantro and a dab of cucumber raita to cool you down.

So, enjoy y’all. And to Ellise — cheers, happy book launch and merci beaucoup for being such a wonderful cooking partner!

~~~

Don’t forget to check out the Let’s Lunchers’ cross-cultural dishes below! And if you’d like to join Let’s Lunch, go to Twitter and post a message with the hashtag #Letslunch — or, post a comment below.

Anastasia‘s Miso Salmon with Mango Salsa at In Foodie Fashion

Cathy‘s Bacon-Studded Polenta With Tomato Gravy at ShowFood Chef

Charissa‘s Gluten-Free Azuki Bean Bundt Cake at Zest Bakery

Eleanor‘s Wok Picadillo at Wok Star

Ellise‘s Salty Lime Sablés (Margarita Cookies) at Cowgirl Chef

Emma‘s Kimchi Bulgogi Nachos at Dreaming of Pots And Pans

Felicia‘s Mexican-Lebanese Hummus at Burnt-Out Baker

Grace‘s Taiwanese Fried Chicken at HapaMama

Jill‘s Southern Pimento-Stuffed Knishes at Eating My Words

Joe‘s Grilled KimCheese Sandwich at Joe Yonan

Juliana‘s Fusion Chicken Casserole at Food, Fun & Life

Karen‘s Ukrainian-German Cabbage Rolls at GeoFooding

Leigh‘s Venezuelan-Italian Cachapas Con Queso at Leigh Nannini

Linda‘s Project Runway Pelau: Rice & Beans Trinidad-Style at Spicebox Travels

Linda‘s Edible Salad Totes at Free Range Cookies

Lisa‘s Sunday Night Jewish-Chinese Brisket at Monday Morning Cooking Club

Lucy‘s Coconut Rice Pudding with Mango at A Cook And Her Books

Maria‘s Spanish Shrimp with Bacon, Cheddar & Chive Grits at Maria’s Good Things

Nancie‘s Chili-Cheese Biscuits with Avocado Butter at Nancie McDermott

Patricia‘s Buttery Tofu, Pasta & Peas at The Asian Grandmother’s Cookbook

Patrick‘s Kimchi Jigae and British Mash at Patrick G. Lee

Rashda‘s Mango Cobbler at Hot Curries & Cold Beer

Renee‘s Asian-Spiced Quick Pickles at My Kitchen And I

Steff‘s Chicken Fried Steak at The Kitchen Trials

Vivian‘s Funky Fusion Linguini at Vivian Pei

~~~

Cheryl’s Goan Pork Curry Tacos

1 lb lean pork, cut into bite-sized pieces
1 stalk curry leaf
2 to 3 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 teaspoon salt
1- to 2-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and finely chopped
12 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped
2 teaspoons black mustard seeds, pounded
1 tablespoon black mustard seeds
4 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1 teaspoon turmeric
2 Bombay onions (or small red onions), peeled and finely chopped
2 cups water (optional)
2 to 3 tablespoons chili powder
1 to 2 tablespoons black or white pepper (Note: If you’re going to make a more gravy-heavy version — i.e. with the two cups of water — use white pepper so the gravy will be of a lighter color.)

Cilantro for garnish; Tortillas for serving.

Combine pork, salt, pepper, garlic, ginger, pounded mustard seeds, turmeric, chili powder and apple cider vinegar in a large bowl. Mix well so each pork piece is well-coated with the marinade. Set aside 1/4 cup of chopped onions then stir the rest of the onions in with the pork. Let this mixture marinate for at least two hours.

Heat vegetable oil in a wok over high heat, until oil is glistening. Add 1 TB mustard seeds and stir-fry until they become fragrant and start to really pop. Add 1/4 cup reserved chopped onions and curry leaf and stir-fry until fragrant. Then add pork mixture to the wok and stir-fry well. Once pork is mostly cooked, add two cups of water, if you want gravy. Let the mixture simmer until pork is cooked through.

Heat up tortillas. Place a few tablespoons of pork curry onto each heated tortilla, top with cucumber raita (recipe below) and cilantro garnish and serve.

Cucumber Raita Recipe

(via Epicurious, with a few tweaks)

1/2 cup plain yogurt
1/2 cup chopped, seeded cucumber
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro
1 tablespoon chopped fresh mint
2 teaspoons chopped green onions
1/4 teaspoon ground coriander
1/4 teaspoon ground cumin

Mix all ingredients in a bowl, season with salt. Chill until ready to serve.

There isn’t much of a story here — I had leftover roasted beets; I made risotto. Because it was tasty, I took a picture.

So here is the recipe below … buon appetito and enjoy!

Roasted Beet Risotto

(via Epicurious.com, with some tweaks)

3 medium beets (1 1/2 lb with greens), trimmed, leaving 1 inch of stems attached
3 1/2 cups reduced-sodium chicken broth (28 fl oz)
3 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1 onion, finely chopped
3 to 4 heaping teaspoons of minced garlic
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cups Arborio rice (14 oz)
3/4 cup dry white wine
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
3/4 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, plus more for the table

Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 425°F.

Tightly wrap beets in a double layer of foil and roast on a baking sheet until very tender, 1 1/4 to 1 1/2 hours. Cool to warm in foil package, about 20 minutes.

When beets are cool enough to handle, peel them, discarding stems and root ends, then cut into 1/2-inch cubes.

While beets are cooling, bring broth and water to a bare simmer in a 2- to 3-quart saucepan. Keep at a bare simmer, covered.

Cook onion and garlic in oil in a wide 4- to 6-quart heavy pot over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 3 minutes. Add rice and cook, stirring constantly, 1 minute.

Add wine and simmer briskly, stirring constantly, until absorbed, about 1 minute. Stir in 1/2 cup broth and simmer briskly, stirring constantly, until broth is absorbed. Continue simmering and adding broth, about 1/2 cup at a time, stirring constantly and letting each addition be absorbed before adding the next, until rice is just tender and creamy-looking, 18 to 22 minutes. (Reserve leftover broth.)

Stir in beets, salt, and pepper(mixture will turn bright pink) and cook, stirring, until heated through. Thin as necessary with some of leftover broth, then stir in cheese and remove from heat.

Alright, you got me. The last time I inspected a knife that seriously was when I was trying to hack my way through a brisket and wondering if it needed sharpening.

What you’re seeing above is one of my favorite mystery writers S.J. Rozan and me getting a close look at a faux crime scene set up by the Singapore police force at Singapore Day in Brooklyn a few weekends ago.

The day-long festival, which first came to New York City in 2007, is a day-long celebration of all things Singapore — the government there flies in actors, singers and even recruiters with jobs in hand.

All of this is fine and good — but what we really came for that day? Food — glorious hawker dishes from only the best little stalls you’ll find in Singapore …

Now, if you’ve ever been to Singapore, you’ll know that one of the most important words there is “makan.” (Malay for food or eat, as in “Come, let’s makan.”)

We didn’t need this sign to nudge us — of the hawkers the government had flown in from Singapore, I’d already had my eye on one: Hill Street Fried Kway Teow, a place I’ve been going to for years for delicious wok-fried noodles with fish cakes, scrambled eggs, bean sprouts, Chinese sausage and cockles.

It’s always a must for me when I’m home — the noodle uncle, however, has been on hiatus recently as his hawker center has been undergoing a massive renovation. So I’d say it’s been close to a year since I’ve had the stuff — simply unacceptable.

I miss the guy — and his noodles — and even his super fierce wife (whose sharp eyes and shrill voice puts the fear of god in anyone who dares to even pause for a second when placing an order) so much that that I was starting to mist up as I saw him frying his noodles. In Brooklyn, no less! I just could not believe it.

Until I dared to ask the auntie for extra chili sauce — which is when I really got it: “Chili inside already lah!” If eyes could actually shove people aside, I’m certain hers would have.

How were the noodles?

Not the same — the noodles used here were thicker and the ingredients were in larger chunks than I remembered. And there weren’t any cockles, which meant the noodles lacked in that briny earthy taste that laces his noodles at home. I did hit about four chunks of crispy fried lard, though, so that saved the day.

The carrot cake — a savory breakfast or supper dish of chunks of turnip (the “carrot” in this dish) fried with egg, preserved radish, soy sauce and a melange of other ingredients — was similarly disappointing. Most versions in Singapore are stir-fried so thoroughly you get a mound of chunks on your plate, each coated with sauce, chili and oil.

What we got in Brooklyn looked like an omelet. The taste wasn’t bad — for an American version. But if this was served anywhere in Singapore, I probably would have thrown it away and gotten my carrot cake from another stall instead.

I had higher hopes for Casuarina — a curry stall in Singapore that’s so good people drive from all over the island just to have breakfast there. The prata there — super crisp — and curry, are a true delight.

And the version here …

… did not disappoint. The prata, made fresh before our eyes, was hot and beautifully crisp. And the curry dipping sauce really packed a punch. I hadn’t had curry this good in a very long while — not since my February trip to Singapore, I realized.

While I desperately wanted to eat more — chicken rice! satay! — the lines were far too daunting. (Several thousand people — some of them Singaporeans who had arrived by the busload from as far away as Virginia and Boston — were there that day.)

So off to the crime scene we went, where a very cool guy, Stephen Tay, a crime scene manager with the Singapore Police Force pulled out a kit and showed us how to test which substances are blood …

… and other cool stuff. (You’ll just have to read the professional mystery writer’s account of our lesson over at S.J.’s blog.)

Hill Street fried noodles, amazing roti prata and a lesson on blood splatter … Every Saturday should be this good.

It’s a head-scratcher. Where to begin? You could have six meals a day for an entire month in Singapore and still stumble upon some delicious morsel you’ve not sampled before.

Even so, I have short list — one that runs through the curry shops, nasi padang (Malay rice smorgasbord) and Hainanese eateries that fill my head when I’m far from home.

The one place I rarely include on this list, however, is a tiny hawker stall located in the neighborhood of my youth — Hill Street Fried Kway Teow …

It’s not that I’m unwilling to share — it’s that … well, OK, perhaps it is that.

But it’s also that this hawker stall is in Bedok, a residential neighborhood on the East Coast of Singapore that’s relatively far off the beaten path. (I’d say the stall is about 25 minutes from the city center and a little hard to find, since it’s wedged in a thicket of tall apartment buildings that all look alike.) It’s certainly not a place I’d expect a tourist with just a day or two in Singapore to check out.

If you are up for the trek, however, it’s so very worth it. As you can see from the front of the stall, this noodle Uncle has gotten many accolades over the decades.

In fact, it speaks volumes that the name of this stall is still Hill Street — named for the street near the city center where it was located for many years. When it moved from that location, it had become so famous that Hill Street fried noodles had pretty much become a brand — they simply had to keep the name even though its new location is nowhere near Hill Street.

What is the dish exactly? Char kway teow (“fried flat noodles” in Hokkien, or Fukienese) is simple Singaporean hawker fare — flat noodles stir fried with two kinds of soy sauce (regular and dark, which is sweet and looks like molasses), shallots, scrambled eggs, chili sauce, slices of Chinese sausage, bean sprouts and cockles.

It’s best eaten on the spot, hot off the wok, and the best versions have a little extra zing from cockle blood that’s been mixed into the seasoning.

Be warned: Hill Street is so popular that you’ll usually have to wait 15 to 20 minutes, which is an eternity in Singapore hawker dining, where you often get served on the spot.

But as you might be able to tell from this picture — which doesn’t do the Hill Street Uncle’s char kway teow any justice — it’s delicious. The noodles are always straddling the perfect line between firm and soggy, just the right amount of “wok hei” or charred flavor from frying infuses the noodles and the flavor of the dish, combining salty, earthy and slightly sweet, is intense.

A plate like this never lasts more than three minutes on our table.

Now, if you live in New York, you’re in for a treat — the Singapore government has flown in the Hill Street Uncle to fry his noodles at a Singapore Day festival on April 14 in Brooklyn.

So if you’re in the neighborhood and smell something amazing and see the queues, you’ll know why. And if you don’t manage to get a taste, well, there’s always a little stall in Bedok where you can find them.

Hill Street Fried Kway Teow, Blk 16 Bedok South Road, #01-187, Bedok South Road Market & Food Centre; +65.9042.1312.

Breakfast

What’s less typical is when I wake up craving Chinese porridge — and the eggy accoutrements that go with a hot bowl of the stuff that I get at my mother’s kitchen table in Singapore. The eggs she serves with porridge are large bowls of beaten eggs, steamed with minced pork and white pepper. Or, savory scrambles packed with ketchup, shallots and sometimes shrimp.

Of the egg dishes I love in Singapore — one remained untested in my own Brooklyn kitchen: Chai poh omelet, a scramble peppered with deliciously salty chunks of preserved radish.

The reason was simple — I’d simply never bought chai poh before. But when my chef friend Simpson recently gave me an extra packet he had in his larder, I decided to give it a shot. After all, Easter was around the corner and my Let’s Lunch bunch had decided to share egg dishes for April …

Now, if you’ve never heard of chai poh, much less seen it, it looks like this:

It’s usually sold in a clear packet — about the size of a 12 oz bag of chocolate chips — in Asian grocery stores. (Mine had Thai lettering on it — so, if you’re having problems finding it, look for a Thai grocery near you.)

The first chai poh omelet I made was simple — I simply stir-fried it in some vegetable oil until it was fragrant, then added beaten eggs to the mix. Very simple — and delicious.

But a recent craving for chwee kueh, a Singapore breakfast dish consisting of jelly-like steamed rice cakes topped with spicy preserved radishes, made me think — how much more amazing would a chai poh omelet be jazzed up with all the intense flavors of a chwee kueh topping?

A little research yielded a few recipes for chwee kueh toppings that looked fairly straightforward. One, by a homesick Singaporean in London, looked so tasty the screen had me salivating. So I took that, added minced shallots to the mix and used that for my chai poh omelet.

How was it? Mind-blowing, if I do say so myself. The salty, sweet and spicy mixture packed an intense burst of flavor in each bite — and was a lovely addition to plain porridge. And I adored the taste of it so much I immediately began plotting using the chai poh mixture with minced pork or chicken in stir-fries, paired with rice.

Is this your usual Easter brunch dish? Not in most households, probably. But after you’ve tasted this, perhaps you’ll agree that it should be.

~~~

Don’t forget to check out the Let’s Lunchers’ egg dishes below! And if you’d like to join Let’s Lunch, go to Twitter and post a message with the hashtag #Letslunch — or, post a comment below.

– Ana‘s Breakfast Pizza at In Foodie Fashion

– Charissa‘s Gluten-Free Leek, Ham & Pecorino Souffles at Zest Bakery

– Denise‘s Beet Dye & Pink Deviled Eggs at Chez Us

– Eleanor‘s Medley of Eggs at Wok Star

– Emma‘s Eggs In A Hole at Dreaming of Pots & Pans

– Felicia‘s Perfect Sandwich at Burnt-Out Baker

– Grace‘s Scrambled Eggs & Tomatoes at HapaMama

– Joe‘s Kim-Chi Deviled Eggs at Joe Yonan

– Karen‘s Molecular Gastronomy “Eggs” at GeoFooding

– Leigh‘s Baked Vegetable Egg Rolls at Leigh Nannini

– Linda‘s Home-made Cadbury Eggs (Maple Chocolate Eggs) at Free Range Cookies

– Linda‘s Taiwanese Tomato Eggs at Spicebox Travels

– Lisa‘s Legendary Egg & Onion at Monday Morning Cooking Club

– Lucy‘s Old-Fashioned Boiled Dressing (& Chicken Salad) at A Cook And Her Books

– Nancie‘s Son-In-Law Eggs at Nancie McDermott

– Rashda‘s Bombay Toasts (Spicy French Toasts) at Hot Curries And Cold Beer

– Rebecca‘s Mini Meringue Buttons at Grongar Blog

– Vivian‘s Oeuf Chaud Froid at Vivian Pei

~~~

Cheryl’s Chai Poh (Preserved Radish) Scramble

75 grams chai poh (the sweet — not salty — kind)
3 large cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 teaspoon fish sauce
1/2 tablespoon chilli sauce (garlic-chili sauce or Sriracha)
1/2 tablespoon kecap manis (a sweet, thick Indonesian soy sauce)
2 teaspoons sugar
2 heaping tablespoons minced shallots
4 to 5 eggs
Splash of milk

Beat eggs with milk in a medium bowl with a whisk until frothy. (Add a very small pinch of salt if you’d like. Not much more as the chai poh is very salty.) Mix together sugar, kecap manis. chili sauce and fish sauce in a small bowl and set aside.

Heat oil in wok over high heat. Once the oil is shimmering, add garlic and stir-fry very vigorously for about 30 seconds (until fragrant) then add shallots. Stir-fry until shallots have softened and mixture is fragrant. (Be careful not to burn the garlic.)

Add chai poh and mix well, stir-frying until the mixture looks a little drier, is fragrant and has turned a darker shade of brown. Then, add the sugar/kecap manis/fish sauce/chili sauce mixture to the wok and stir-fry, mixing well.

Once that is well mixed, reduce heat to medium and remove most of the mixture and set aside, leaving two to three tablespoons of it in the wok. (You can leave a larger amount of the mixture in the wok if you’d like — bear in mind that it’s rather salty so a little bit of it goes a long way.)

Pour beaten-egg mixture over the remaining chai poh mixture in the wok and let it set. After a little while, flip it over if you can. Or, you can cook this like a scramble. Once the eggs look cooked, serve immediately with porridge and chili sauce on the side, if desired.

Reserve the remaining chai poh mixture for other possible stir-fries.

Diets and doctors be damned — if it were possible to eat a big hunk of steak every day, you know I would.

So when I found myself in Paris recently with just one night to have steak frites, I knew it had to be the best I could possibly find. “I know the perfect place,” my Parisian friend Kevyn said, mentioning a restaurant called Le Sèvero and then quickly ticking off favorable reviews in the New York Times among others when I gave him my super-skeptical eye.

I figured if it’s good enough for Mark Bittman (and the venerable David Lebovitz) then it’s certainly good enough for me …

Le Sèvero isn’t the easiest place to get to — it’s off the beaten path for most tourists, located on a quiet street in a residential neighborhood in the 14th arrondissement. In fact, on our way there, as I counted the seemingly endless Metro stops we were crossing off, I realized this was probably the furthest from the city center I had traveled just for a meal. Over and over my friend Kevyn assured me, “It’s so good.”

The place is tiny — you’ll definitely need a reservation — and was filled entirely with locals, some of whom looked on with more than a little curiosity when three Asian faces chatting away in English sat down.

The first thing you’ll notice upon stepping inside is just how incredible everything smells. I felt as if I were bathing in steak juices.

I have never wanted to eat air more.

(We were also probably doubly bathed in this due to our prime seat right by the open kitchen.)

Le Sèvero’s owner William Bernet knows his meat — he’s a former butcher, after all. And he’s talked about how he ages his meat from five to 10 weeks, which is apparently a fairly rare practice in Paris bistros.

Don’t let the casualness of the scribbled menu on the chalk board fool you — the aging process means that these steaks aren’t inexpensive. They’ll range from 26 to 38 Euros — 85 Euros for a côte de boeuf for two. Having read about how life-changing these steaks are, however, I was undaunted.

We began with a plate of chorizo (12 Euros), which came so beautifully marbled with fat we took a great many photos of the slices before sampling one. They were spicy, fatty and delicious — especially paired with salted butter on bread.

Before long, the stars of the show appeared — first up, we had the filet de boeuf (32 Euros), which was seared to perfection and had a nice crust. The meat itself was very tender, too, bursting with juices.

On the inside, it was nicely red — à point (medium-rare) is about as done as they’ll do it here for you. (You could ask for your steak more done but why be the laughing stock of the restaurant?)

And the fries — handcut — were crisp, just the right size (unlike too-flabby steak fries I tend to find in the U.S.) and just lovely.

The côte de boeuf for two was a sight to behold — we attacked the two piles of beautifully seared meat the moment they hit the table. As outstanding as the filet de boeuf had been, this was just a hair more so. I could not get enough of this meat — each bite was memorably tender and flavorful.

As much as I wanted dessert, I knew there was simply no room for more.

Looking out the window, sipping my cafe and pondering what had been my very last dinner in Paris, I realized that Kevyn was right. Le Sèvero had indeed been the perfect place.

Le Sèvero, 8 rue de Plantes (in the 14th arrondissement near the Mouton-Duvernet Metro stop), Paris; 01.40.44.73.09

It’s the good stuff, too –pungent, spicy, tart and tangy. But what this means is that the sous chef and I have been eating a fair bit of the stuff.

What to do with kimchi? We ran through the obvious in the first several meals — kimchi omelets, scrambles, kimchi with rice, porridge. You name the easy, we tried it.

Kimchi fried rice, however, was daunting to me. Fried rice was the very first Asian dish I tried to make — and if you’ve read A Tiger in the Kitchen, well, you might recall the outcome of my first attempt.

When I read about New York chef David Chang’s fervent belief in bacon and kimchi being made for each other, though — and how he uses it in fried rice — I was sold.

The past was the past, I decided. With a little research into kimchi fried rice, out came my wok and I was ready to give this a try …

After scouring the Internet for the dozens of ways in which people out there have made kimchi fried rice (with or without bacon), I picked the three recipes that I felt were the best out there and combined them.

The first is from Food & Wine, the second is from Rasa Malaysia and the last, which formed the backbone of the method for my Franken-KimChi Fried Rice recipe below, is from Momofuku For Two, written by a blogger who clearly adores David Chang (and also manages to take photos of her cooking process that make me want to eat my screen).

For my recipe, I took bits that I liked from each of the three and wove them together. And the result was delicious — each bite of rice was incredibly flavorful. There was an intense smokiness laced throughout — no doubt from the bacon fat as well as the crisp bacon — a nicely sour fire from the kimchi and its juices and the kochuchang, sesame oil and soy sauce lended a deep salty sweetness to it all.

My only complaint was that this recipe can be a bit of a pain to make, since you’re frying several ingredients separately and then setting them aside for mixing later.

So, I say next time you find yourself with kimchi to spare, give this a whirl. But a little advice: You might want to double the recipe first.

~~~

Bacon Kimchi Fried Rice Recipe

Ingredients

4 cups day-old cooked rice (refrigerated overnight)
8 slices of bacon, cut into 1/2- or 3/4-inch pieces
2 cups frozen peas, defrosted (optional)
3/4 to 1 cup kimchi, roughly chopped
2 TB kimchi liquid from the jar of kimchi
3 eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 large onion, finely chopped
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1 TB sesame oil
1 to 2 TB soy sauce
6 generous dashes of white pepper
2 scallions, finely chopped
2 to 3 TB kochuchang (Korean sweet and spicy bean paste)
About 1 TB vegetable or corn oil
Salt, to taste

Heat a little vegetable or corn oil in a wok — when it’s sizzling hot, pour in beaten eggs and quickly fry it up, breaking it into small pieces. When eggs are cooked through, remove and set aside in a large bowl. Add peas to the bowl, mix well.

Mix together soy sauce, sesame oil, kochuchang and white pepper in a small bowl, stir well and set aside.

Heat about 1/2 TB of vegetable or corn oil in wok until it’s shimmering. Add onions and stir well, cooking until they’re fragrant and soft (but not brown). Using a slotted spoon, remove onions from the wok and transfer to the large bowl with the eggs and peas, setting that aside. (You want to preserve as much oil in the wok as possible.)

Heat up wok then add chopped bacon and cook until the pieces are crisp. Remove the crispy bacon with a slotted spoon (again, preserving the bacon fat in the wok) — transfer the bacon to the bowl with the eggs, peas and onions.

Heat up the wok again — it should still have a fair bit of bacon fat and oil in it. Once that’s hot, add minced garlic and stir-fry it quickly until fragrant (about 30 seconds to 1 minute on high heat). Add rice and quickly fry it up, breaking up the clumps of rice and making sure garlic is evenly mixed into it.

Stir soy sauce mixture well and drizzle that over the rice, mixing it all together very well. Then add onion-bacon-egg-peas mixture in the bowl to the rice and stir it together, mixing well. Finally, add chopped kimchi and kimchi liquid, stir together, mixing well. Once the rice mixture is well combined and heated through, turn off heat.

Dish out onto rice plates or bowls, top with a little minced scallion and eat right away.

So when I started planning where I would meet Ellise (or, Cowgirl Chef, as you may know her, from the monthly Let’s Lunch posts on this blog) for the first time — in Paris, where she lives, no less — the hunt was on for a suitable place.

Where to meet? It turned out a little place we’d been curious about sounded just perfect: Verjus, a new-ish wine bar and restaurant near the Palais Royal by a young American couple who made waves in Paris a few years ago when they opened Hidden Kitchen, a private underground supper club in a tiny flat.

Now, I’d not been able to check out Hidden Kitchen in its heyday so when I heard that its owners — Seattlites Laura Adrian and Braden Perkins — opened a place last year that I could actually get into, I was all over it.

Almost as soon as I landed in Paris, off I headed …

The restaurant is in a darling space — just off the edge of rue de Montpensier, slightly hidden in a corner that you get to through a narrow passageway off the street. And it’s certainly a larger, more ambitious endeavor than Hidden Kitchen was.

As the couple explained in their email announcing Verjus: “The idea came because we felt like we had hit a ceiling on what we could do at Hidden Kitchen. At times, we were getting fourteen hundred e-mails a day requesting spots at our very limited Hidden Kitchen dinners. Even if we increased the frequency of the dinners in our home, we wouldn’t be able to accommodate all the requests. I personally felt like we had also hit a ceiling on what we could cook in our tiny home kitchen. If we had a larger facility, with better equipment, all the food we were serving could be elevated.”

The decor is a little Californian — clean and inviting — but with a lovely view through its tall large windows. (You can also eat at the cozy bar downstairs, if you’re looking for something a little more noir.)

Although I had read about the vaunted fried chicken in a few places, we decided to keep things simple and go with the restaurant’s five-course market menu — 55 Euros; 85 Euros with wine pairings. (I should mention that Miami native Juan Sanchez, owner of Derniere Goutte, a wonderful little wine store in Saint Germain des Pres, has compiled a very fine wine list for the restaurant. The wine pairings for our meal were very thoughtfully selected and just outstanding.)

Our meal began with a bang — an amuse bouche of a little potato topped with creme fraiche and roe. The combination of flavors and textures in this little bite was intense — I immediately wanted another after inhaling mine.

The chefs here pride themselves in cooking with the freshest ingredients available — Paris locavore from nearby farms. This was evident in our first course: grilled sourdough with soy-candied brussel sprouts, radishes, arugula, avocado and burrata. Fresh greens aren’t usually the thing I gush about — but if this was the kind of salad I was getting all the time, I’d certainly be doing more gushing.

Next up, we had a skillet trout with mushrooms, picholine olives, ricotta dumplings and verjus jelly. (Verjus, by the way, is the tart juice of unripe wine grapes.) The fish was terrific but I have to confess the little chewy dumplings, with their slightly salty kick, were my favorite item on the plate.

Our final savory course sounded promising — grilled milk-fed veal with miso labne, pickled cauliflower and nori crumbs — but ended up being slightly disappointing. The veal was tougher than I expected — and not quite as flavorful as I’d hoped. But the accompaniments made up for it a little — the cauliflower offered a nice tartness.

We decided to sample both desserts, the first of which was an American lunchbox classic: An oatmeal cookie.

I have to admit to feeling a little silly about eating an oatmeal cookie in Paris — I bake these all the time at home and, in fact, am incredibly picky about them. I almost never buy or order them anywhere in New York simply because I like the ones I make (sometimes with six spices or more) better than any others that I try.

Perhaps this was the problem here. Although the cookie was dressed up with tasty accoutrements (milk sorbet, bourbon raisins, hazelnut butter, roasted grapes), I was disappointed with how bland the cookie itself was.

We had better hopes for the buffalo milk ricotta cake topped with grapefruit, blood orange, bergamot and tonka bean-poached kumquat. It looked beautiful on the plate and didn’t taste bad — but the cake itself was very dense and heavy and the texture was rather mealy.

The little sugar cookies we got to close out the meal left us with a sweet note, however.

In the end, it didn’t entirely matter how the food was — our dinner was packed with one essential ingredient: delicious conversation. And after so many months of cooking together, it was nice just to be able to share a big hug.

So here’s to finally meeting, Ellise! And to many more years of Let’s Lunch …

Verjus Restaurant, 47 Rue de Montpensier, 75001 Paris; 01.42.97.54.40; verjusparis@gmail.com; http://www.verjusparis.com/

The Malay phrase, which means “Guess-Guess,” encapsulates their method of cooking. They don’t rely on recipes or cookbooks — ingredients are tossed into a wok by sheer estimation, one that’s based on powerful instinct honed from years of very good cookery.

Since my year of cooking with them, I’ve found myself inspired to do the agak-agak thing more in my kitchen. Where I once was terrified of simply peeking in the fridge and throwing dinner together, with my busy book travels recently, that’s become rather the norm. Out of this new practice, however, has emerged interesting stir-fries, stews and more.

Just this week, as I was trying to recall how I’d made a dish I liked a few months back, I realized with great chagrin that like my aunties, I’ve not written any of these inventions down.

Well, that’s going to be fixed.

Starting with this stir-fry, we’re going to start recording it all. If you love turmeric and sambal, then definitely read on …

This little stir-fry grew out of a love for the turmeric fried chicken wings my mother’s helper in Singapore makes. For years, I looked forward to visits home so I could eat these spicy chicken wings. Finally, I sat down and watched how she made them — and I was floored by how easy it was.

In my Brooklyn kitchen, I’ve adapted it to a more traditional stir-fry meat: chicken breast. And then I’ve spiced it up with sambal and some asparagus, making it a one-dish meal when combined with rice.

(By the way, if I haven’t said it before, this is my favorite brand of sambal — if you see this in an Asian grocery store, snap it up!)

I’d go into this recipe more but it’s really pretty simple. Just marinate the chicken for an hour, fry that up, fry up the asparagus, combine and then eat.

It was so easy I didn’t think to write it down. But trust me, once you’ve tried it, you’ll be glad I did.

~~~

Turmeric-Sambal Chicken Stir Fry

Ingredients

1 lb chicken breast, cut into small cubes
1/2 lb asparagus, trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces
2 TB minced garlic
1-2 shallots, minced
4 TB vegetable or corn oil
1 TB sesame oil
1.5 TB (or more) ground turmeric
1 to 2 TB corn starch
1 to 2 TB soy sauce
Salt
White pepper (Several generous sprinkles)
1 to 2 TB sambal
1/2 to 3/4 cup chicken broth

Place chicken in a large bowl and pour in soy sauce until all pieces are well coated. Then, add corn starch, turmeric and a few sprinkles of salt and white pepper and mix well, until each piece of chicken is well coated. (Note: These amounts are pure guesstimations — you basically want enough of the marinade so each piece is nicely coated with a dense paste of soy sauce, turmeric, cornstarch, pepper and salt.) Refrigerate chicken for an hour.

After the hour, heat four TB vegetable or corn oil in a wok until very hot then slowly add chicken. (Cook this in two batches if you have a small wok.) Fry up the chicken for a few minutes, until each piece is fully cooked and has a crispy coating. Remove with a slotted spoon and let it rest on a paper towel-coated plate.

Remove all except 1 TB of oil from the wok. Then add sesame oil and heat up the wok until oil is very hot. Add garlic, frying for 30 seconds or so, until fragrant. Then add shallots, stirring well, frying for a minute or two, until the shallots have softened and are fragrant. Add asparagus and stir-fry for a minute, until well mixed. Then add sambal and chicken broth, stirring well. Cover and cook for two more minutes. Uncover and add chicken to the mixture, stirring well until everything is combined and well-heated through.

Serve with hot rice.