The HoDown says: Only 20p? Out of this world!
Tuesday, 18 April 2017
Saturday, 8 April 2017
Soul on a plate, Seoul, November 2015
I had been well up for Seoul for quite some time. This place is a complete enigma. Being one of the most homogeneous countries in the world, its Asian culture strongly parallels Western culture with all the boozing and razzmatazz associated with the likes of New York. As this is a food blog that tries in earnest to compete with the excellent but arid Dim Sum Diaries, I will talk nosh.
1) Kimchi This stuff is more ubiquitous than air. It's spiciness is short, sharp and captivatingly addictive. Be warned. Kimchi is like a Samsung Galaxy Note 7 - spicy enough ignite your day.
2) Korean fried chicken This is what the Colonel's chicken should be. The opposite of what Rocky Balboa's face is after a dust up with Apollo Creed, this is lightly battered and doesn't leave you feeling guilty about the potential state of your levels of HDL but you need plenty of matches the following morning. I personally prefer the plain Korean fried chicken. The BBQ sauce is nice but after a point it feels like you are munching through sweet bitumen.
3) Korean BBQ What a great concept. They give you the raw meat and you cook it yourself. If you get the two bob bits and redecorate your toilet bowl eight hours later, it is your fault for not cooking it properly. The barbie somewhere in Insadong was good stuff. The menu was in foreign and positioned right next to the pit so you ran the risk of melting your face trying to look at the photos. All meat looks the same in foreign anyway.
4) Raw beef and squirming octopus
I was told that you have chew the bastard right through and get your amylase flowing like enzymatic lava so there will be zero chance of the critter octopussying you. On a side note, you don't realise how strange an octopus is until you see its arms and legs squirming around on your plate after it has been chopped up. The raw beef was like cold sweet raw meat. It has abdominal cramps and diarrheoa written all over it but it is strangely satisfying to see what it is like to be a lion. Rar!
5) Beer and Soju
Hite is my personal favourite beer. It is refreshing and is made for people lacking in alcohol dehydrogenase by people without alcohol dehydrogenase. But it still fucks you up like a white man's beer. Hite goes own as easily as Monica Lewinsky. Add a shot of soju and you will be guaranteed a headache after a night in the Oral Office. Good stuff.
The HoDown says: KFC is the new KFC.
1) Kimchi This stuff is more ubiquitous than air. It's spiciness is short, sharp and captivatingly addictive. Be warned. Kimchi is like a Samsung Galaxy Note 7 - spicy enough ignite your day.
2) Korean fried chicken This is what the Colonel's chicken should be. The opposite of what Rocky Balboa's face is after a dust up with Apollo Creed, this is lightly battered and doesn't leave you feeling guilty about the potential state of your levels of HDL but you need plenty of matches the following morning. I personally prefer the plain Korean fried chicken. The BBQ sauce is nice but after a point it feels like you are munching through sweet bitumen.
3) Korean BBQ What a great concept. They give you the raw meat and you cook it yourself. If you get the two bob bits and redecorate your toilet bowl eight hours later, it is your fault for not cooking it properly. The barbie somewhere in Insadong was good stuff. The menu was in foreign and positioned right next to the pit so you ran the risk of melting your face trying to look at the photos. All meat looks the same in foreign anyway.
4) Raw beef and squirming octopus
I was told that you have chew the bastard right through and get your amylase flowing like enzymatic lava so there will be zero chance of the critter octopussying you. On a side note, you don't realise how strange an octopus is until you see its arms and legs squirming around on your plate after it has been chopped up. The raw beef was like cold sweet raw meat. It has abdominal cramps and diarrheoa written all over it but it is strangely satisfying to see what it is like to be a lion. Rar!
Thank you, Farmosty for the video 👍
Hite is my personal favourite beer. It is refreshing and is made for people lacking in alcohol dehydrogenase by people without alcohol dehydrogenase. But it still fucks you up like a white man's beer. Hite goes own as easily as Monica Lewinsky. Add a shot of soju and you will be guaranteed a headache after a night in the Oral Office. Good stuff.
The HoDown says: KFC is the new KFC.
Thursday, 6 April 2017
Shatteringly awful, N'awlins, October 2012
'Where y'at'? I had slowly been poisoning myself with all sorts of fried food, suspicious fluorescent drinks and neuro-porn in New Orleans. The night was warm and muggy, and I had promised to meet the PhD student for a burger. I think that burgers are his poison just like married women are to a certain high ranking important director of an important intelligence agency of an important country.
Krystal Burger was located close to my opulent hotel, but Krystal Burger was anything but carat in quality. The venue was a narrow premises with horrible fluorescent ceiling lamps that even flies would be repulsed by. The diuretic effect of the preceding beers were taking effect and I was in need to spend a penny. The protocol was extremely disturbing having to be buzzed into the bathroom only to see someone warming the toilet seat.
The choice was too much to take in so I went for a Sampler Combo. I thought I would play the numbers game in that at least one item might be palatable. Off I went with my Sampler Combo upstairs in a bid to view the Bourbon Street pissheads from above. The problem was that the second floor did not have any windows. The ceiling was really high too but that did not stop the sticky stale air from lingering at the oxygen level.
My Sample Combo consisted of a Famous Krystal, a Krystal Chik, a Corn pup and a Chili Cheese Pup.
Famous Krystal: Shocking. If the taste of nothing could taste bad, this did a good job.
Corn pup: Shocking. This phallic entity was a perfectly proportioned geometrical disaster. This thing must have been laser etched because it was so perfectly shaped. Definition of 'shit on a stick' comes to mind.
Chili Cheese Pup: One word: Shockingly shocking.
The HoDown says: gris-gris in a bun.
Krystal Burger was located close to my opulent hotel, but Krystal Burger was anything but carat in quality. The venue was a narrow premises with horrible fluorescent ceiling lamps that even flies would be repulsed by. The diuretic effect of the preceding beers were taking effect and I was in need to spend a penny. The protocol was extremely disturbing having to be buzzed into the bathroom only to see someone warming the toilet seat.
The choice was too much to take in so I went for a Sampler Combo. I thought I would play the numbers game in that at least one item might be palatable. Off I went with my Sampler Combo upstairs in a bid to view the Bourbon Street pissheads from above. The problem was that the second floor did not have any windows. The ceiling was really high too but that did not stop the sticky stale air from lingering at the oxygen level.
My Sample Combo consisted of a Famous Krystal, a Krystal Chik, a Corn pup and a Chili Cheese Pup.
Famous Krystal: Shocking. If the taste of nothing could taste bad, this did a good job.
Corn pup: Shocking. This phallic entity was a perfectly proportioned geometrical disaster. This thing must have been laser etched because it was so perfectly shaped. Definition of 'shit on a stick' comes to mind.
Chili Cheese Pup: One word: Shockingly shocking.
The HoDown says: gris-gris in a bun.
Wednesday, 5 April 2017
A Thai-ed attempt at Mak Mak, The Landmark, Central, Hong Kong, February 2017
Mak Mak is certainly a landmark in The Landmark. This Thai restaurant is a hidden turd that should should be left alone. To be fair, the green curry was alright but it wasn't alright at nearly $200.
Having read The Dim Sum Diaries' account of Mak Mak, I had to replace my computer screen as I felt the urge to punch the pixels on which the review was written. I'm sorry Wilko. Your head's gone. If I served you a deep fried turd on a skewer then started a fish ball riot in your $20,000 a month Mid Levels apartment you would probably still give me three roast pork buns out of five.
Wilko, if you were fooled into thinking that you walked into a Thai grocery shopkeeper's home store after picking up a Louis Vuitton toothbrush case from the commercial unit next door you are more gullible than the Arsenal back four.
I have no idea about the nuances of Thai cuisine except that eating Thai food is meant to be like a tantric gastro-shag at Bangkok prices. The dishes were alright. They were no better than a Tesco's Taste The Difference microwave Thai meal. The portions, however, were pitiful with a couple of token bits of meat in the curry. The Phad Thai had us scrambling for it like ravenous buffoons but then then left us embarrassed as we reflected on looking like Neanderthals scrapping for a couple of scrambled egg noodles. Don't even get me started on the bowl of boiled rice for $30, which we had to ration like Mark Watney on Mars. Definitely don't get me started on the service. The waiting staff provided worse service than Dimitri Payet as I am sure they tried their hardest to be pony. Asking for some table water was a chore. Was the water boy collecting the condensation from the humidity in the atmosphere because it took an age to arrive. When it did arrive, it tasted like the filtrate from Victoria Harbour. Fortunately, I don't have many pictures of the meal. The only positive from the meal was getting an ice cream from The Little Corner in TST. Check it.
The HoDown says: Mak Mak - so bad they named it twice.
Having read The Dim Sum Diaries' account of Mak Mak, I had to replace my computer screen as I felt the urge to punch the pixels on which the review was written. I'm sorry Wilko. Your head's gone. If I served you a deep fried turd on a skewer then started a fish ball riot in your $20,000 a month Mid Levels apartment you would probably still give me three roast pork buns out of five.
Wilko, if you were fooled into thinking that you walked into a Thai grocery shopkeeper's home store after picking up a Louis Vuitton toothbrush case from the commercial unit next door you are more gullible than the Arsenal back four.
 |
| Red roast duck curry. The duck is somewhere in there. Where's Wally? |
The HoDown says: Mak Mak - so bad they named it twice.
Ghengis Khan, Sapporo, Japan, July 2016
I had never eaten so much lamb since going on the infamous Kebab Crawl in the balmy summer of 1998 with Prawn Phan-which and TT Boy Ozdemir. Armed with a fistful of my Mum's pocket money and my golden Turkish phrase, "ajeser bol ulson lutfen" (phonetically spelt and allegedly translated as "lay down extra smackdown [on my kebab]"), I believe we put away three kebabs. That equates to three meals on the lash. The third kebab, however, was a Gazza so that doesn't even count as a lamb kebab. Anyway, it is all about the memories. You won't see any of these anecdotes in The Dim Sum Diary...
Trying to get a table in Kessel Hall at the Sapporo Beer Museum was an effort. Japanese are notorious for not being able to say "no". Asking whether we could stuff our faces in Kessel Hall was replied with a "yes, but it is fully booked for the evening". So, it should have been a "no". But it ended up being a "yes" as we were led to the famous Kessel Hall.
Kessel Hall is meant to be modelled on a German beer hall. Not sure about that. I would describe Kessel Hall more as somewhere to crucify a vegan. Inside, the mist of atmospheric oily lamb juice clings to you like Martin Keown. My eyes stung from mutton sweat as I put on the token paper bib to protect you from the oil splatter while grilling. The deal is essentially grilling the slices of lamb on a bed of vegetable and eating as much as you can until you turn Turkish. The best part of the meal was the sauce that you dip the meat in to break up the relentless taste of lamb.
Not much to say about the lamb except that I had devoured enough to live a lifetime of exoduses from Egypt. The most interesting part of the meal, however, was that you could buy small bottles of perfume to mask the essence of kebab in case you are joining an Animal Liberation Front rally later. A part of me wishes that I had tried this alchemy but in the end I am glad I did not induce an olfactory bulb seizure.
Following the ordeal I was certain I had genetically fused with a lamb as I felt I was locked inside a mutton air lock for days. I am sure I could have wrapped myself in a pita bread, cuddled up to some salad, bathed myself in yoghurt, laid down extra heat and served myself at Jason's Doner Van for £2.50.
The Ho Down says: Stick to what you do you what you do best, Ghengis, and invade China
Trying to get a table in Kessel Hall at the Sapporo Beer Museum was an effort. Japanese are notorious for not being able to say "no". Asking whether we could stuff our faces in Kessel Hall was replied with a "yes, but it is fully booked for the evening". So, it should have been a "no". But it ended up being a "yes" as we were led to the famous Kessel Hall.
 |
| Kessel Hall: The closest I will come to experiencing the inhospitable atmosphere of Venus |
Not much to say about the lamb except that I had devoured enough to live a lifetime of exoduses from Egypt. The most interesting part of the meal, however, was that you could buy small bottles of perfume to mask the essence of kebab in case you are joining an Animal Liberation Front rally later. A part of me wishes that I had tried this alchemy but in the end I am glad I did not induce an olfactory bulb seizure.
 |
| Passover lamb for infinite exoduses |
Following the ordeal I was certain I had genetically fused with a lamb as I felt I was locked inside a mutton air lock for days. I am sure I could have wrapped myself in a pita bread, cuddled up to some salad, bathed myself in yoghurt, laid down extra heat and served myself at Jason's Doner Van for £2.50.
The Ho Down says: Stick to what you do you what you do best, Ghengis, and invade China
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