Is it spring yet? The intoxicating smells of charred bbq meat seems like a delicious distant memory. Wish we could say we were the die hard few that still grill in the winter but our little grill is buried deep in the massive pile of snow. So when the craving hits, what is one to do?
Lucky for us there's Namu Korean BBQ in Colonie. We enjoyed our last experience at Seoul Korean and were happy to hear about the addition of more Korean in the area but with a diy twist. Each table is outfitted with built-in grills and the thought of grilling our own meat sounded pretty exciting. The bbq side of the menu is a mix of different cuts of pork, beef, and chicken. Priced from $19 to $29, it's a bit steep for the little amount of meat served. Nonetheless, the bulgogi beef that we ordered was tender and tasty enough. The aromas of grilled marinated rib eye and charred scallions was divine. We insisted on grilling our own meal but the servers are happy to do it for you too. Flavors could've used more balance as I tasted more sweet than savory but it all came together when wrapped up in lettuce with some rice and a schmear of gochuchang pepper paste, although that in itself could've been spicier.
The BBQ came with a generous number of banchan which were the highlight of our meal. These free refillable side dishes are great complements to the meal. J and I both couldn't stop eating the japchae noodles but it was the teeny tiny anchovies and dried shrimp that won me over. Don't be bothered by the tiny eyes staring at you; these briny, salty, and savory bits were delightful, enough to ask for seconds of. Other banchan included a pickled radish and assorted veggies, stir fried green beans, marinated cold tofu, cold spicy squid, and the ever present kimchi. I was slightly disappointed by the lack of heat and abrasive sourness of this quintessential Korean fermented cabbage staple. Not that I wanted blow my head off spicy, but at least a bit more kick.
We're suckers for Japanese grilled squid so the Korean version was right up our alley. A whole squid comes sizzling on a hot stone plate with a mix of scallions and bean sprouts with a side of sweet glaze. The waitstaff chops it up tableside for more manageable bites. J loved this dish. Squid was not too tough at all and the hot plate imparted a good smokey flavor. I could've sworn I tasted butter and it oddly worked. Veggies were a welcomed addition too.
There was a steady Korean clientele for a Friday night and I'd be curious to hear their take on its authenticity. While flavors could use some adjustments here and there, overall our dining experience was pleasant and we would come back to try the stone bowls and stews. It's not K-Town level but for what it's worth, it's another dining experience for the Capital Region that wasn't there before. While we wait for spring, we'll take tableside grilling for now.
There's no shame in admitting that we ate at The Cheese Traveler twice this week. Not only did we stop for grilled cheese sandwiches but the prospects of a Friday Night Cookout was too tempting to pass. Even during a torrential downpour on the kickoff night. Upon our arrival, despite being greeted by sunny skies and the smokey smell of a hot grill ready to go, grey clouds quickly turned into raindrops but that didn't stop the shop from grilling, even in the rain.
With all the ingredients for delicious grilled cheeses at hand, The Cheese Traveler had no problem transforming them into the makings of a pretty unique summer cookout menu. That means quality products like fresh, never frozen Tilldale Farm ground beef burgers served on Bonfiglio & Bread rolls, with farm-fresh produce of your choice. But it wouldn't be The Cheese Traveler without optional toppings like Shelburn Cheddar or Colton-Basset Stilton and even kimchi from Mingle next door and French pate. But with lamb bacon as another option, how could we say no?! This lamb bacon changed my outlook on lamb. I was always turned off by its gaminess, but these fatty morsels are just life-changing especially in a grilled cheese or on a burger. The gaminess of the lamb bacon adds a unique layer of flavor to the burger. I chose to have my burger with just bacon and found it needed just a touch of salt. But J got the lamb bacon with havarti and the cheese really does make a difference in complementing the bacon and adding what was missing from my burger. Nonetheless, both of our burgers were plenty juicy and cooked to a perfect medium rare on a charcoal grill. We can't tell you how much we admire the charcoal grill; it just adds so much more flavor.
I'm in a weird mood today, so read at your own risk.
Cooking is like making music: It's a temporal art form, in that every performance can only ever exist that one time you experience it. In a way, this is a depressing thought. We will never taste a meal made a hundred, a thousand years ago. All we have are firsthand accounts and our own best approximations of what that meal should have tasted like, based on ancient crumbling recipes and served with steroid enhanced meat and genetically engineered crops. We can never taste that first performance of the sandwich, or stew, or seared scallop.
On the other hand, this is part of what makes food truly special: Every time you sit down to a meal, you are experiencing the only exact version of that meal that will ever exist. I believe that this property can be how the enjoyment of great food is such a unifying experience for everyone. The knowledge that, together, you are experiencing something that never existed before and will never exist again can make anyone smile at least a little.
The other day, I made pork ribs on a charcoal grill. They weren't perfect; it was my first attempt at making ribs over coal. Certainly I should have left them on a bit longer to render the fat some more, and I probably should have included brown sugar in the spice rub. Nevertheless, I thought they were well smoked, tasty, and beautiful. I made R take a profile shot of them, just because it was the first time I had ever seen a pink ring on something I made.
That first time you make something, when you're still focused on all the things you managed to do successfully rather than what you need to improve on, is an impossible feeling to capture or describe. Now, I could probably go out right now and cook a rack twice as tasty and pretty, but no matter what I do they will never be last Sunday's ribs. -J
