Chinatown eating tour

Eleanor and I have had a coupled craving for rice porridge since last week’s Oakland Chinatown brunch. There’s something about this thick rice and water mixture that’s familiarly homey, comforting, and soothing to the soul and stomach. My mom makes it each time I go home to LA, and it’s grown to be something I look forward to maybe even more than those ritual jaunts to In-N-Out.

Jon, Shari, and I met her at Hing Lung on Broadway at Stockton, which was where a little bit of research guided me to in finding the best rice porridge in the City. We were a bit late and the crowds of Chinese people pushing us off the sidewalk and onto the street didn’t help us. When we finally reached her fifteen minutes after when we said we would, we were greeted by yet another crowd of Chinese people within. I was taking mental notes. Lots of Chinese people, a less than sterile-looking cooking environment, loud and rude wait staff--this is Cantonese dining at its finest.

I used my Cantonese skills and wrangled us a table. I ordered the rice porridge with pork and preserved egg. [Note: I call this rice and water soupy goodness “rice porridge” because that’s the best description of it, but menus usually describe it as “congee,” which I have never understood the meaning of, or “jook” or “juk,” Americanized spellings of the Cantonese word.] We also ordered the “Chinese doughnut,” which is a long piece of fried dough that I’ve always understood to mean “oil fried ghost” in Cantonese, and the same “Fried bread” wrapped in steamed noodle. After placing all our orders individually, the waiter looked at me and repeated it to me in Cantonese. I nodded. (My Cantonese skills only take me far enough to be able to order food.)

The fried bread wrapped in noodle came out first. I found this plate a bit questionable since I’d never seen it before anywhere and had never eaten it. But, my chopsticks transported the piece of dough wrapped in more dough and topped with a light soy sauce from plate to mouth, and it was delicious. The steamed noodle’s chewy, soft whiteness cloaked the fried doughnut and was an interesting contrast to the distinct chewy crunch of the fried bread. And, the soy added just a touch of saltiness.

The large bowl of rice porridge came out next. It was thick, white, with chunks of black egg and strings of brown pork, and topped with green onion. A few shakes of pepper and salt made it perfect. It felt so good to have the craving filled by spooning slurpy porridge. And, when the rest of the fried bread came out, I tore it into chunks, dropped them into my bowl, and let them soak up the tasty rice porridge before taking a bite, the way those Chinese doughnuts should be eaten. It was almost as good as eating my mom’s rice porridge in our kitchen.

We finished and journeyed through North Beach, where we picked up tons of sugary snacks at the large candy store. I had a bag full of apple O’s and probably half of Jon’s Spree. I topped that off with a double latte later on in the afternoon.

We walked back through Chinatown on our way home, mostly to stop at a place for steamed buns. The place Eleanor took us to was called Happy Dim Sum Nice Food or some combination of those words or similar ones on Stockton at Jackson. Going into the small store, I just wanted a steamed chicken bun but when I saw a man get a dozen or so dim sum pieces, I wanted some of that too. So, I ordered my chicken bun, a piece of shrimp dumpling, and a piece of pork dumpling. The lady behind the counter told me it was $1.35 and called me a pretty girl. I ate those dumplings and steamed bun out of a plastic bag, with my hands, walking down Stockton and through the dark tunnel, and just felt happy.