After moving to Sydney, we discovered a mecca of good Korean restaurants. (At least, we think they are good. If you ask a Korean, they will sniff and tell you that it tastes better at home.) But we found that only a couple of the restaurants serve Duk Bok Gi. It seems that its street food reputation makes it too pedestrian for some of the restaurants. Requests for it will be met with a polite look of disdain. So we are happy to order it when we can.

Duk Bok Gi is a very simple dish. The thick noodles, also called rice sticks, have a wonderful dense, chewy texture that makes the dish so satisfying. The chilli sauce is a deep red color with a slight sweet smokiness and plenty of heat. This comes from the Korean chilli paste, go chu zang. It has a similarity in flavor to good hot hungarian paprika. To this is added vegetables like red and green pepper, broccoli, carrots, cabbage and onion. Also strips of fish cake, which have a rubbery, scrambled egg texture. Sometimes it also has some fresh seafood mixed in, like squid, which makes a great complement.

I always keep my eyes open in the asian markets for the noodles and chilli, but never seem to see it mixed in among other chinese, japanese, vietnamese and thai ingredients that are more familiar. Last week Eric and I took a new route home and we passed a shop that was clearly a Korean market. It was tiny, with tons of merchandise and impossibly narrow aisles. We spotted the rice sticks and figured out, by process of elimination, which package had chilli paste inside. The only clue was the image of a red chilli pepper on the front.

So I attempted the dish at home a couple nights later using a couple of recipes I found on the internet and improvising a little. The packet of noodles (I believe this is the duk part) was vacuum packed and a rock-hard mass. I heated the noodles in boiling water until they came unstuck and heated through, though I probably didn’t take them out soon enough, as they got a bit soft on the outside. One of the recipes called for sauteeing the noodles in a frying pan with oil. Maybe I’ll try that instead next time, if I can figure out how to get them separated first.

Ingredients for the meal

In a separate pan I sauteed some pork loin. This was my improvisation, simply because we didn’t find the fish cake and I wasn’t going through the rigamarole of finding fresh squid (and figuring out how to cook that properly as well!) and I was planning the dish being a one-pot dinner. (Korean readers are probably shuddering in horror.) To this I added the sauce mixture: 2 tablespoons of the go chu zang chilli paste. Although this didn’t look like much, it was more than enough heat for half a pound of noodles, as I later discovered. I added a couple teaspoons each of soy sauce and sugar (and later added a little more sugar, to help tone down the heat a bit) and a dash of sesame oil. I completely forgot to add the sesame seeds and garlic that the recipe also called for (I guess I was overwhelmed by the newness of it all).

Cooking in the Pork with the Chilli Paste and Rice Noodles

That’s where the recipes left me hanging. In the restaurants, the sauce is always a thin liquid, and what I had in the pan was a thick paste. There was no indication for any kind of broth, so I just gradually added some of the water left over after I drained the boiling noodles. This got me the right amount of liquid, but I think the starch in the water thickened the sauce too much and gave it kind of a glazed consistency.

Adding in the Red and Green Peppers

I then tossed in cubes of red and green pepper and spring onion. When these were heated through and just becoming cooked, I turned off the heat and spooned the mixture into bowls. Verdict: it was pretty good! Not outstanding, but certainly an edible and even satisfying meal. I think I’ll make some refinements next time, like not forgetting the garlic and sesame seeds and thinning the sauce with plain water or broth. That might get it a little closer to being “authentic”. And maybe someday Eric and I will wander the streets of Seoul on a cold day and get of taste of what it’s really supposed to be.

Spicy Duk Bok Gi ready to serve

It’s not easy to find everything you need, as some of the ingredients simply aren’t available. For example, we’ve never seen a single plantain in the whole time we’ve lived here, not even at the Paddy’s Market. Also, our previously reliable standby, Vigo yellow rice mix, is not available. So we have to actually make the yellow rice from scratch.

However, there are plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables all the time. The tomatoes and limes came in bulk from the Paddy’s Market, an enormous, crowded greenmarket kind of like the Haymarket in Boston. It’s not a farmer’s market per se, so there aren’t organics or anything like that. It’s all family-run stalls selling wholesale products. The quality can be hit or miss. You can end up with a great bargain, or you can equally end up with a bag full of fruit that starts rotting two days later. On the whole, however, it’s a better selection than the supermarket.

It all starts with peeling garlic for the mojo sauce. The mojo is kind of like a garlic-lime vinaigrette that is used to dress everything. In Cuba, it is kept on the table as a condiment.

The mojo is made with ample amounts of freshly minced garlic. Normally one would use a mortar and pestle to grind the garlic into a paste with seasalt. We don’t have a lot of kitchen equipment, so we just make do with a cutting board and chef’s knife. The garlic is briefly simmered in an equally generous amount of hot olive oil and then allowed to cool. This takes the harsh edge off and brings out that gorgeously nutty quality of the cooked garlic. Freshly squeezed lime juice is wisked in until the sauce begins to emulsify. Add salt and cilantro to taste.

Next is to marinate the pork loin in some of the mojo for a few hours. Zest is taken from a few limes to add to the pork marinate.

Cherries have nothing to do with Cuba, as far as I know, but they were in season so I decided they would make a good dessert (which they did).

Watercress and tomatoes. The watercress is dressed with mojo for a delicious green salad with a little bitterness. This is a very simple dish, but gets quite a lot of compliments. Great tasting food should always be this easy!

Frijoles negros (black beans) simmering on the stove. This is a staple for any cuban meal, and stands alone well as a meal by itself with white rice. The black beans have been soaked for about four hours and then simmered with water, bay leaves, cumin, onion, green pepper and garlic, with a generous splash of olive oil. Some people add a tablespoon or two of vinegar towards the end. I prefer mine without.

Arroz con pollo (chicken and yellow rice). Back home we would simply make this with a packet of Vigo yellow rice mix. Here, I start by browning the chicken thighs in a skillet and lining the bottom of the pan with the chicken. Then quickly sauté onions, red peppers, garlic in some olive oil that had been seasoned/colored with annato seeds (achiote). Mix in a couple cups of uncooked white rice and spread this mixture over the chicken legs. Then pour in 4 cups of warm water, in which a generous pinch of saffron has been dissolving. This is how the dish looks after an hour covered in a medium oven.

Finally the piece de resistance. Oven roasted loin of pork, cuban style. The pork had been marinated and then basted in the mojo sauce. At the table it was served with more mojo on the side, so that each person could adjust piquancy, according to taste.

Fellow patrons ordering and eating at the Noodle Bar

For our friends back in the US, David Jones is a department store that has a gourmet food hall in the basement with separate counters for meet, sausage, seafood, cheese, bread, cheese, bakery, chocolates, fruits, veggies and prepared foods. It’s not quite on the magnitude of Harrods, but it is an elegant food extravaganza nonetheless. When we go, it’s usually to pick up ingredients for a picnic in the Botanic Gardens nearby or to search for some specialty ingredient. What is particularly enticing about the food halls is that there are several food bars where you can get a seat at the counter and eat right there on the spot. There is the noodle bar, an oyster bar, a pasta and panini bar, a grill bar, a cheese and anitpasto bar, and an espresso bar.

Needless to say, the bars are popular, and it is hard to get a seat, particularly on a weekend afternoon. The noodle bar sits just below the stairs where we exit the store, so we are always drooling over the the sight of noodles being tossed in hot firery woks and wonderful smells wafting up. There is simply never a spare seat. Today we just managed to spot two seats and grabbed them.

We ordered a Chicken Laksa (a malaysian-style soup with curry paste and coconut, served with meat and noodles) and a Chicken-Cashew Stir Fry. Both were cooked up to order and brought to us straight away. We indulged in a beer and a glass of wine to make our late lunch complete. Mmmmm.

Chicken Laksa and a glass of White Wine

Chicken and Cashew Stir Fry

The Stir Fry was very good and had a very nice balance of sweet and sour. The Laksa was good, but not as good as some of our favourite spots in town (I’m looking at you, Thai Me Up…). Still, a nice way to grab a bit and watch the crowds go by…, and we saw plenty of other dishes that will require trying in the near future.

David Jones Food Hall
Mains $10 – $20
Licensed, Beer and Wine

65-77 Market Street
Sydney NSW 2000
Ph: 02 9266 5544

The space itself is just charming, with exposed sandstone walls, hardwood floors, and cramped bistro tables primly clothed in starched white cloth. We were seated at a window table in the rear room, which had an interesting vantage point for viewing the goings-on in the kitchen around the corner, and the pretty courtyard behind the restaurant, which provided an unwelcome source of cigarette smoke later in the meal.

Across the courtyard, a view of the kitchen through the dining room window

All in all, the meal had its highlights, but also had its share of low points, like the overcooked scallops and the intermittent service. We started with a bottle of Chateau Lafitte something-or-other. Since they kept our bottle at the bar, I never did get a good look at the label, after selecting a mid-priced burgundy off the list. Whatever it was, it was lovely, though the wait staff were not attentive in keeping our glasses full during the meal and we ended up with a quarter of the bottle still left over dessert. I’m not sure how I feel about the practice of keeping diners’ wine bottles away from the table. I usually enjoy studying the label a bit, as most often I am ordering a wine I haven’t tried before, as we did that night. In fact, our table was small and the room cramped, so I can see why they do it, but as I looked at the wine and mineral water bottles lined up on the bar, I wondered how often someone gets a top-up from the wrong bottle.

We were among the first guests with a 7pm reservation. The staff were friendly, but obviously overworked, particularly as the evening went on and the restaurant filled. Two different staff alternated during the meal, which felt a bit too casual and ad hoc. For our first course, Eric ordered stuffed zucchini flowers, which were filled with crab and corn and then lightly battered and fried. Very delicious, and quite beautiful on the plate. I chose the duck terrine. This was absolutely wonderful and exploding with flavour, though disappointingly, I was halfway finished before the staff brought bread to the table. By that point, I had given up hope that there would be any bread. What’s a terrine without bread? Possibly you could say it was worth the wait, however, as the bread was crusty, moist and hot, and tasted like it had just come out of the oven. They also dispensed a small dish of intensely flavoured olive oil. It was hard not to gorge on the bread in order to leave room for our mains.

Stuffed Zucchini Florettes

Duck Terrine with Pureed Roasted Garlic and Balsamic Reduction

Fresh Bread served with fruity virgin Olive Oil

My main was satisfying and hearty. I had a panfried kingfish, which was served on a bed of roasted vegetables—baby beets, parsnips and spring onions. Eric ordered the scallops, and as pointed out above, these were disappointingly tough. They were accompanied by some equally overcooked calamari and gritty clams, so the dish was a thorough disappointment for a $40 plate. We were encouraged to order a side, so we got the whipped potatoes.

Kingfish on a bed of Roasted Vegetables

Scallops, Pesto Clams, and Calamari on a bed of Artichoke Hearts, Potatoes, and Mushrooms

Dessert was a highlight, and we shared the chocolat fondant. Not only did we share it, but we couldn’t even finish it, it was so decadent. Maybe next time we’ll just come for dessert. Or maybe just for bread and olive oil.

Chocolate Fondant with Vanilla Ice Cream

Overall, the meal was not French so much as “modern australian” with a french influence. This place seems to have a lot of potential. But given the inattentive service, disappointing main, and wafting cigarette smoke (I guess that was the “French” part), we probably won’t go back.

Le Pelican
Entrées $18-$20
Mains $25-$40
Dessert $12-$13
Licensed, although you can BYO wine with corkage ($10)

Shop 2
411 Bourke St
Surry Hills 2010 NSW
Phone: (02) 9380 2622

We had Rudi as our waiter, one of the co-owners (apparently, his brother Max is the chef). To say he was charismatic might be one way of putting it. There was great fanfare and flourish in presenting the menu, and many corny jokes being cracked behind an enormous moustache that entirely covered his mouth. Between the invisible lips and the German accent, I didn’t understand a single thing he said the entire evening. And he said quite a bit…

We started with a round of Bitburger Pilsner, which is highly recommended. In fact, if you just went to Rudi & Max’s for the beer, you’d be well served. Rudi announced a complimentary appetizer of bitterballen, which were provided for us to snack on as we perused the menu. These were breaded veal and chicken meatballs with a side dallop of mustard. Not particularly noteworthy, but as we were famished following a couple rounds of drinks at a nearby bar, they were eagerly inhaled.

We ignored the tome of a wine list (it was impressively large, but entirely intimidating, all the same) and stuck with our beers. The second round was Erdinger Weissenback, which was very good, but a bit sweet for the meal – it would have been best on a hot day while eating some hearty bread. Eric and I shared a plate of meats as a starter (Bündner Teller), and the selection of cured hams and sausage was exceptional. Unfortunately, it was accompanied by just a couple slivers of rye bread, though I suppose that if more bread were offered, the plate would simply be a meal in itself. As it was, we couldn’t finish it. I would love to know if there is a local source for their sausage.

I decided to order one of the specials, pork knuckle (Eisbein über alles), which we were told had just come out of the oven. A first time dish for me, this was a delight—an enormous joint of tender, falling-apart meat encased in a thick, crisp crackling. I’ve seen pork knuckle on many menus and have always been afraid of it, I have to admit. I always imagined it being a wobbly mass of cartilage, fat and bone, without much meat. Eric urged me to try it when I asked if he’d ever tasted it, and he likened it more to a lamb shank, which gave me courage.

Eisbein Über Alles – Roasted Pork Knuckle with Dumplings, Spätzle and Red Cabbage

It was amusing to be the smallest person at the table, receiving the largest plate of food! Far too large to be a one-person serving, the knuckle sat regally atop a mess of sauerkraut, spätzle, dumplings, red cabbage and a ladle full of applesauce (I guess that was the über alles part). While I love all of these things individually, I wasn’t crazy about the way they all blanketed each other on the plate. Nonetheless, it was all delicious. I ate to the point of feeling uncomfortable. In fact, I don’t think I hardly spoke until I was done. It was so good, it demanded my complete focus.

Eric ordered the Venison Baden Baden, which was very excellent. There were slices of steak in a juniper red wine glaze, along with some really interesting, meaty mushrooms, spätzle and red cabbage. It was recommended by Rudi to order the Venison medium rare, but Eric thought it might be a bit too rare and ordered it medium (based on previous experience with venison being servered more rare than not). Medium rare would have indeed been perfect, alas, although it was still very tasty.

Venison Baden Baden, in Juniper & Red Wine Glace, medley of Mushrooms, Spätzle and Red Cabbage

We were far too full for dessert, and just managed to amble a couple blocks down the street when Rudi came running after us. It turned out we had shortchanged him on the bill, and he thought that we seemed much too nice for that not to be a mistake. The miscalculation must have been a combination of many drinks and the dark lighting in the restaurant. We produced the additional cash and apologised profusely for our mistake. At least we were so full, that we had not made it very far before he discovered the lapse. We will have to be more careful about double-checking our math next time.

Stuyvesant’s House
Entrées $12 – $30
Mains $19 – $45
Desserts $10 -$16
Fully Licensed, Extensive Wine List

45 Alexander St
Crows Nest NSW 2065
Ph: 02 9439 7155