When pig ear salad (shown here with the pickles of the day) was the first dish that Chino’s served me during a recent media preview, they had my attention. And respect.

After all, I’ve been disgruntled by Asian restaurant openings of late. Cocktails are trendy and some of the places are indeed cool hangouts, but the food is often bland, bastardized, or just plain bad. Sorry, but I’m not into overpriced, poorly constructed dumplings, or sushi rolls made with jalapenos.

So, I was ecstatic to see that pig ear salad. The flavor was good, though I’d give up some of the green onions in exchange for more heat. That’s an easy tweak, and one the restaurant can help enable by offering chile oil on the side.

There’s a lot of pork on the menu. (Heck…Chino’s email address is “porkcentric.”) My favorite dish of the preview was the zha jiang mien, with perfectly cooked, thick and chewy noodles topped with minced pork, hot bean paste, and sweet bean sauce. The tinga tacos, made with braised pork and chorizo, were also tasty. The char siu pork will be a safe pick for some, though I found the meat rather lean. And, surprisingly, on this particular night I preferred the gua bao (a Taiwanese “burger” using a steamed bun, here dressed with pickled mustard greens, cilantro, and crushed sweet peanuts) with fried tofu instead of the more traditional pork belly, which was just a little dry.

Granted, this is an early glimpse, and given Walter Lee’s enthusiasm in Chino’s kitchen, I expect quality to get even better over time. My take: A little more fat will go a long way.

There are two menu items I’m especially eager to try as soon as possible. “Blood and Guts” will feature all kinds of offal action, as it includes blood cake and tripe. And there’s also “Menudo de Chino,” a combination of offal stew and Taiwanese noodles that sounds tempting.

If you haven’t guessed, Chino’s is both Chinese and Mexican, serving dishes best described as Taiwanese night market meets Mexican street food. And while it’s also a cocktail bar (take note of my Singapore Sling paired with some furikake kettle corn), the food here is far from an afterthought.

My first impressions are quite favorable. It’s been a while since I’ve recommended a new Asian restaurant to my food-loving friends, and I’m looking forward to their feedback, and seeing how this one evolves.

Andrew Zimmern is coming to town to look for bizarre bites.

A more local and recent television personality, Scott “Seattle Food Geek” Heimendinger, was kind enough to refer Zimmern’s research team to me several months ago. In extensive (and sometimes exhaustive) conversations, we discussed possible themes (including an “East meets West” theme) and restaurants to include for a future episode of Bizarre Foods. And, in turn, I was pleased to refer the show to another prominent food writer, Lorna Yee (who I showcased at TheSunbreak.com in the past), who will serve as Zimmern’s guide for part of the local shoot.

So just where will Zimmern find freaky food in Seattle? Early word is that he’ll be hitting eateries old and new. Food trucks and International District locations are likely to be in play. [Ed.: I've removed the specific locations/dates at the show's request to avoid crazy crowd scenes.] Natto (spiderweb-like fermented soybeans), stinky tofu, balut (fertilized duck embryo), and shirako (cod sperm) were among my recommendations for Zimmern to try; come to think of it, that sounds like a dream meal for me, and far from bizarre.

Yesterday I posted pictures of pig-filled plates outside of Seattle, and promised you local options. Here they are. Most are Asian, with appreciation of the utilization of as much of the animal as possible. Pictured above is bopis, which is a spicy and vinegary saute of pork heart and lungs. I recently discovered bopis at Family Time Restaurant in Shoreline, where it’s a special served on weekends only. The textures of this dish, as with all the offal dishes I’ll mention, are part of what make it special. Bopis reminds me of dinuguan–pork blood stew, another favorite of mine. (It typically has pork liver, and I’ve had versions with pig ears and intestines.)

Speaking of pork blood, another favorite is the Vietnamese soup called bun bo hue. I like the version (and the atmosphere) at Hoang Lan by the Othello Station light rail stop. Bun bo hue feature rice noodles (spaghetti-like) in beef broth with braised beef, pork blood cakes, pork liver, and a pork hock. To this you add the accompanying bean sprouts, shredded cabbage, sliced banana blossoms, cilantro, jalapeno, and lime. This noodle bowl is perfect for both a cold, wintry day, or even a hot summer one.

The pork dish in the area with my favorite name is “The Other Parts of a Pig,” on the “Wild Side” menu at Bamboo Garden in Bellevue. It also has pork blood cakes, along with pork intestines and tofu chunks. There’s pickled cabbage and a tangy broth. You can ask them to make it as fiery as you can handle. As you can see from the photo, I say the redder, the better. There are some other adventurous dishes on that Wild Side menu, so I encourage you to explore.

Looking for something more “mainstream”? I thought back over the years, and the pork dish that stands out most in my mind is a Carleton Farms pork chop that Renee Erickson prepared at Boat Street Cafe. Erickson’s famous for her pickles, and here the pickled raisins packed a powerful punch. And the layers of mild-tasting leeks mixed with Beecher’s cheddar cheese made the dish all-the-more decadent.

Cochon 555 brought five pigs to Seattle in February

Also spectacular was Coppa in Boston. Above is the beef tongue and pork belly stew with squash and mozzarella. I ate other offal as part of the occasion, and especially enjoyed some spaghetti alla carbonara with bacon, uni, and egg. (Jamie Bissonnette of Coppa won Food & Wine magazine’s 2011 People’s Best New Chef national award, which Jason Franey of Canlis won regionally by a hair over Brian McCracken and Dana Tough of Spur Gastropub.)

Most recently, I visited Incanto in San Francisco. As much as I’d heard about Chef Chris Cosentino’s love for offal, I was surprised to see relatively little of it on the menu. But the food was solid. While my favorite dish was spaghettini with Sardinian cured tuna heart, egg yolk, and parsley, pictured for this pig theme is pork cheeks with cippolini and polenta.

Lest you think I’m feeling sad about the scene in Seattle, I’ll be back shortly with a few of my top pork picks for this area.

First published at TheSunbreak.com. More on these three restaurants sometime soon.

Dish:

In the bowl: Your choice of noodles, plus liver, kidney, stomach, and other pork pieces in a fish and pork broth with sliced green onions.

Supporting cast: A bowl with soy sauce, black vinegar, and diced jalapenos.

What to do: Per the server’s instructions, you’ll want to eat the noodles as quickly as possible so that they stay firm. “That’s how we do it in Hong Kong,” she explained, adding, “We don’t talk when we eat these noodles.” There’s time for talking post-noodles, when dipping the pork in the bowl of sauce.

Noodling around: Mike’s has an extensive menu of dry noodles, soup noodles, and congee. If you order a noodle dish, you’ll have a choice of thin egg noodles, wide rice noodles, thick rice noodles (spaghetti-like), and lai fun noodles (a thick, short noodle generally made from rice flour).

Those thin egg noodles (”toothpick thin,” said the server) are the specialty, and remind me of morning noodle meals I enjoyed Hong Kong, so I went with those. As the server advised, it’s good to eat them as quickly as possible to appreciate their chewy, almost crisp texture. Go slowly, and they’ll get soft and soggy.

I love the variety of pig parts, especially the liver–so tender and slightly mineral-tasting. The other meat pieces provide a great variety of texture to the experience, but I might consider a bowl of pork liver noodles next time.

If still hungry: The noodle bowls look small, but they’re pretty filling. Still, a vegetable dish makes for a nice side. There’s always Chinese broccoli, lettuce, or bok choy with oyster sauce ($4.70), but if it’s in-season, go for the ung choy with preserved tofu sauce for the same price.

Be aware/beware: This can be a very bustling restaurant, so you’ll probably want to eat fast–not just for the sake of the noodles, but for the sake of those waiting for a table. Still, service is friendly and helpful, so don’t be afraid to ask questions about anything on the menu.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on March 22, 2011.

Dish:

In the bowl: From the menu: “Vermicelli with pork hock, pork blood cake, beef tendon in hot and spicy soup.” There are also slices of onion in the soup, along with some herbs. And a couple of pork meatballs.

Supporting cast: The side plate seems to vary visit-to-visit, but generally includes shredded cabbage, lettuce, banana blossoms, jalapeno, cilantro, bean sprouts, and lime–though last time there was lemon instead of lime.

What to do: Add in what you like from the plate, and certainly go for a citrus squeeze. If life, at this moment, gives you lemons, ask for lime. (You may also want to add chili sauce from the table.)

Noodling around: I frequented this restaurant long before light rail made its way down Martin Luther King Jr. Way. Now, whenever I go to the airport, I think about jumping out at the Othello Station stop for a bowl of bun bo hue. Until recently, due to the signage, I thought Bue Bo Hue was the name of the restaurant. There are other noodle dishes here, but bun bo hue has me coming back.

So does the atmosphere, actually. Hoang Lan is true hole-in-the-wall. Eight tables, a mirrored wall which is clean only as high as the cleaning person can reach, a television in the corner generally broadcasting Vietnamese variety shows. The owner often whistles or sings to the shows’ music, even while playing a game on the computer.

The soup has hits of lemongrass, chili (though only mildly spicy to me) and shrimp paste, along with an underlying depth that comes from many hours of beef bones simmering. The noodles are the thicker, round, rice vermicelli type, easy to grab with chopsticks. I especially like the minerally taste of the pork blood cakes. But while I want to attack the pork hock, or knuckle, to find the fatty and gelatinous parts, that element generally feels like more trouble than it’s worth.

If still hungry: Scroll down the menu to item number 42: banh bot loc tran (20 for $5.00). These boiled tapioca dumplings are filled with pork and shrimp, and are best dipped in a fish sauce concoction. They’re sweet (in a non-dessert way) and satisfying. I feel like I can eat all 20.

Be aware/beware: This is cash only, with prices already inclusive of tax. If you’re not Vietnamese, you will likely feel like you’ve landed in other country upon arrival. That’s a good thing. Ask questions about anything you don’t know. The owner will take a break from his whistling to help as much as possible. If you fear a food coma after your meal, take note of the row of partially-made Vietnamese coffees by the register.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on March 8, 2011.

Dish:

Place: Kamrai Thai Cuisine, Shoreline

Price: $9.50

In the Bowl: Per the menu: “Rice noodle with steam beef, green onions, cilantro and bean prouts.”

Supporting Cast: A caddy of condiments: salt, chili flakes, chili oil, and Sriracha, I believe.

What to do: Just eat. You can spice up the soup if you like, but if you order as I did, that won’t be necessary.

Noodling around: Your server will ask you what spice level you’d like. I told him I wanted it very spicy, and he eagerly asked, “Ten?” I nodded yes, but then quickly asked the numerical range. “One to five,” he said with a smile. I smiled back, satisfied with the thought of a perfect ten.

Ten it was. This was a barn-burner. (My companion’s phad keemao was similarly spicy.) But that was the only thing that made me feel a connection to Thailand, where I remember sweating over my soup, happily, my first meal there.

To me, boat noodles (kuay tiow reua) should have at least the option of a variety of meats, including offal. I’m talking beef balls, liver, tripe, crispy fried pig skin, beef tendon, and pork blood cubes. The soup should be dark, murky, and maybe even a bit mineral-like. Just as I recall it at the fabulously hole-in-the-wall Sapp Coffee Shop in Los Angeles, where a bowl is about half the price as here. Sadly, besides missing the meats, Kamrai’s soup lacked complexity, boring me with its one note-ness.

If still hungry: Given the high prices and limited selection (see below), and a desire for something for vegetables, I’d go for the deep-fried (there are no fresh) spring rolls, stuffed with mixed vegetables and cellophane noodles (almost the cheapest appetizer at $6.75). Salads are all priced over ten dollars, and are all protein-based.

Be aware/beware: Kamrai is in the location that was once Uthaithani–which was much better in quality. In a city loaded with Thai restaurants that all have fairly uniform menus Kamrai’s menu is even more basic than most. (Where’s our Pok Pok? Our Lotus of Siam? Our SriPraPhai? And where are there real boat noodles?) It’s uninspiring and expensive. Though I am curious to know what the “American snow” (from the “dsserts” section) is all about…

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on January 25, 2011.

Last night, we stopped in to try the natto gnocchi (Yang and Chirchi fold natto into the gnocchi dough, and serve it with walnut-nettle pesto and house-cured smoked bacon), but while we enjoyed it, what won us over even more were the Buffalo chicken livers. Your order will include a nice little basket of pillowy, breaded livers deep-fried and dunked in a spicy, tangy Buffalo sauce. Dip them into some of the accompanying lovage ranch dressing, and alternate with bites of pickled rhubarb.

It’s like bar food meeting fine dining. The result: an incredible symphony of flavors at a friendly cost of seven dollars per order. What a show!

Cross-posted on Seattlest, where “we” = me.

They call that gizzards, gizzards
Part of the chicken
Not too finger-lickin’
And I’m not sure what part

They call them gizzards, gizzards
Part of the bird but
That’s what I heard but
I don’t know where to start

“Gizzards, Scrapple and Tripe”
from The Hymns of Bucksnort
by The New Duncan Imperials (1991)

“Hope you took your Lipitor.” I look up, and Chef Holly Smith serves a smile along with some duck gizzard rillette on crostini. I’m at Café Juanita, listening to Massive Attack and wondering if I’m in for a massive heart attack as I bite into the first of about a dozen dishes in this month’s Dish-Off challenge: “Gizzards, Scrapple, and Tripe.” It’s an obscure song by The New Duncan Imperials, and I’m glad I found it, as I love offal and have been looking forward to the theme dinners with meaty glee.

Oh, it’s tempting to insert an offal/awful joke here. But I won’t. It’s all meat. If you’re a meat eater, yours is most likely muscle meat. I happen to also love the often-unwanted parts (“off fall” are the pieces that fall off when butchering a carcass) as well. I’m not here to convert you, but if you can stomach this, perhaps I can entice you to discover a whole new world of eating.

Chef Ethan Stowell at Union sends out one dish each of gizzard, scrapple and tripe. I start with salad Lyonnaise, just ducky, with tender gizzards, a perfectly poached duck egg, and duck confit vinaigrette. Frisée freshens up the fat from the runny yolk and bits of bacon, just as celery leaves and parsley offer a counterpoint to the next plate: fried scrapple with Piccolo potatoes. Stowell makes the semolina-based scrapple from pork belly, smoked ham hock, pig’s feet and ears; there’s a whole sheet-tray of this crunchy goodness in the kitchen, and a whole kitchen crew ready to devour it—evidence, to me, that people who really know food appreciate these less popular animal parts.

The night’s final course is trippa alla Romana. Tripe is stomach lining, and is one of the most difficult offal cuts to prepare. I call it “beefy bubble wrap,” as I love the bursts of flavor that come with each bite. All three chefs prepare tripe, but Stowell’s is my favorite. He braises it just right with tomatoes and pancetta so that the honeycomb pieces offer enchanting taste and texture. It’s the chewiest, which means more time to enjoy the flavors it soaks up—here accompanied by sweet Corona beans and oh-so-soft polenta, and topped with shaved parmesan. I admire Stowell’s sensibility in transforming fine ingredients (though not necessarily the most expensive) into sublime dishes.

At Harvest Vine, stewed beef tripe is plated with chorizo, which is housemade, sharp and delicious; pork belly; and blood sausage, which is creamy and wild, also made in-house, with natural intestine casings. This course is actually the most “mellow” of the evening’s dishes. First, though, Chef Joseba Jiménez de Jiménez teases my tongue with a starter of elk tongue over raw oyster in escabeche; the meats are pleasantly wild and pillowy soft. I’m impressed with the sea and land pairing—even more so with a plate of lamb hearts and Hawaiian blue prawn pieces. I love this dish. It’s sautéed rare for best (and matching) texture and sweetness. In an offal state of mind, I should mention sucking out the head of the shrimp to get the best bits.

Heads-up: Sweeping aside some carrot and licorice demi-glace on the next dish reveals an unmistakable layering of pig snout. Dark-shaded and soft, with terrific texture, the anise flavor reminds me of Chinese red-cooking. The accompanying fried pork brains over a gratin of parsnips is even more delightful. If you’re skittish, suspend your brain and don’t think about what you’re eating; you’ll find brains are one of the most rich, creamy, and melt-in-your-mouth foods. These are fabulous, especially with the acidic and luxurious aioli, and it’s my favorite dish of the overall Dish-Off.

For the grand finale, Jiménez de Jiménez lingers to watch me eat Rocky Mountain oyster sorbet; he’s not sure I have the balls, if you will, to try it. Accompanying it is chocolate sorbet, which masks the ever-so-subtle, liver-like flavor of the bull testicles. Especially interesting are the specks of sweet skin from pig’s feet—scraped of gelatin and dried to a crackle. If not paying attention, I might mistake them for cocoa nibs. A triumphant ending to an unforgettable, and delicious, nose-to-tail experience.

And now back to Chef Holly Smith at Café Juanita. That amuse bouche of rillette won’t be the last of the gizzards, nor will be the gizzards in the pasta course. Tagliatelle, exquisitely made in-house, is the perfect vehicle for soaking up the dreamy duck gizzard sauce, which tastes almost salty but is, in fact, expressing some of its gaminess. A gizzard, by the way, is a specialized, second stomach many birds have to help grind down food. Alluring as this dish is, I might need a gizzard myself, as I can’t stop stuffing my stomach despite knowing more food is on the way.

A gorgeous curly endive salad is next, crowned by an “inside out scrapple bomba”; Smith improvises a cornmeal ball of scrapple made with pig ears, snout, liver, heart and trotters. I enjoy all the elements of this dish, from the textural contrast between the soft (almost livery) confit gizzards and the crisp pork belly, to the slight sweetness and acidity of the mustard seed quince vinaigrette. The whimsical choice of a clementine-flavored sparkling drink as a stand-in for orange juice completes this traditional Pennsylvania Dutch breakfast treat. I’m still savoring the scrapple when out comes trippa alla Fiorentina. As at Union, tomato and pancetta compliment the tripe, this time it is topped with a fried duck egg—why does everything taste better with an egg?—and wonderful, smoked sea salt.

As if the meal hasn’t already been over-the-top, Smith laughs when she serves a tarte tatin with apples and—am I seeing this right?—more duck gizzards. They’re candied, and while slightly meaty, are reminiscent of dried fruit. And she’s taken the gizzard poaching liquid and made crema with it; it’s actually so good, it renders the side of her fabulous salted caramel gelato unnecessary. (Don’t worry…I ate that, too!) The tarte is huge, but I eat, fittingly, the “guts” of it.

Should you think I’ve gone off the deep end, chew on this: If you’ve had an authentic Thanksgiving dinner and poured properly made gravy over your turkey and potatoes, you’ve probably enjoyed the essence of gizzards. In this way, and appropriate to the theme, a dessert topping featuring gizzards makes sense. And just as eating the whole beast respects and honors the animal, I feel increased respect for all the participating chefs, but honor Holly Smith as the “goddess of giblets” and winner of this “Gizzards, Scrapple, and Tripe” Dish-Off.

The menus

Union

• Salad Lyonaisse with duck gizzards and duck confit vinaigrette
• Fried scrapple with Piccolo potatoes
• Trippa a la Romana with Corona beans and polenta
• Grapefruit and honey tangerine sorbet

Harvest Vine

• Oyster with elk tongue in escabeche
• Sauteed lamb hearts with blue prawns in garlic oil
• Pork snout with carrot and licorice demi-glace with fried brains
• Beef tripe with pork belly, chorizo and blood sausage
• Rocky Mountain oyster sorbet with chocolate sorbet, lemon foam, and sweet skin from pig’s feet

Café Juanita

• Duck gizzard rillette with Klipsun verjus gelatin
• House-made tagliatelle with duck gizzard sugo and parmigiano reggiano
• Inside out scrapple bomba with curly endive, confit gizzards, pork belly and mustard seed vinaigrette
• Trippa alla Fiorentina with fried Dog Mountain duck egg and smoked sea salt
• Apple and gizzard tarte tatin with candied duck gizzards, gizzard crema and salted caramel gelato

All photos in the post by Rina Jordan. (Click to enlarge them.)

Here are photos of the other dishes from this Dish-Off.

Here is a PDF of how the article appeared in Sound.

Note: Dish-Off reviews are based on announced visits. Restaurants get guidelines and choose what to serve according to the month’s theme.

You can find the full report, include menus, here.

Click to enlarge any of the photos.