Hungry Lung's

Head to Lung’s (and a little further down in the anatomy of well-being)

 

Well Hungry Lung’s will most definitely take care of your midriff, other internal organs be damned. And take care of it, he does!

 Thus sits an eclectic, swish eatery on the now right side of Yongkang Lu – Xiangyang Lu (away from the madding crowds of Le Café des Stagiaires and the rest of the café-by-day and bar-by-night spots on the busy side of that stretch). This stretch is quieter, far more homey, and just right for that Sunday afternoon meal where you spent the previous night dancing off your soles and drowning yourself in the signature cocktails at Bar Rouge or M1NT and then rounded it off at Hollywood or Flamingo, finally dragging yourself home at 6:00 in the morning, or, if you were a little decent, 4:00 in the morning.

All you want for the morning after, then, is to be left alone – to not be spoken to, or at. And a nice place for comfort food with unobtrusive signage and the perfect staff that understand you had a rough night. That is Hungry Lung’s for me. COMFORT. In neon lettering. And Lung himself, when he is not busy in the kitchen – so you can have a relaxed chat with him on occasion when you feel like one.

 

The fact that it has only about six 2 to 3-seater tables inside, and two 3-seaters outside, means that your desire to drown in your post-hangover ‘don’t-talk-to-me’ wish is comprehensively fulfilled.

The décor is quirky – with white open brick walls and quirky posters of Coca-Cola and Dishwashing cleaner ads in the 70’s to Andy Warhol prints to anything that impressed Lung enough. And it’s all thrown together with an antique record player in a corner whose entire purpose is to add character to the place!

Run by Canadian-born Lung Liu, Hungry Lung’s is fusion done just right. The mark of Hungry Lung’s is that the menu board is single-sided, with just a handful of signature and classic dishes, which are done just right, consistently well, and with a hint of something-lovely-that-doesn’t-belong-to-this-dish every time, that makes you keep going back there.

I love restaurants which don’t send you into a frenzy of forced, confused choices with a menu book that needs a Table of Contents and an in-built metal bookmarker to flip to the right page. Let’s just focus on doing a few small things really, really, really well, shall we? That is Lung’s kitchen for you. Because he went after his own version of “comfort” when thinking up the menu. And hit the nail squarely on the head with the rest of us too!

The grilled lemongrass chicken in wasabi aioli is one just such dish. Perfect from the word “Go”. For poutine lovers, Lung’s does it just right – a plateload of fries smothered in Monterey Jack cheese and just the right amount of brown meaty gravy. Again, food of the comfort kind.

My favorite and most frequent order is the set of 3 sliders – Korean beef, lemongrass chicken and beef-and-bacon. The sliders are just the right size each and the side salad is absolutely fusionly delish, a coleslaw and baby radish salad made very interesting with a tempering of sesame and mustard seeds. Who would have thought, eh? Who, but Lung!

 

There is also a South-east Asian section on the menu, with Singaporean laksa, Burmese khowsue and Thai red curry (duck, chicken or prawn) – all of them done to perfection.

And the tab? Very very easy on the pocket for the lovely food he serves. Nearly everything is between 60-80RMB and portions are generous. With beers clocking in from 12-30RMB for the most expensive one, well, here’s looking at you, Fat Kid! And yes, for every Bloody Mary, Lung has his own spin on the male version with a Bloody Caesar (after all, Rome wasn't built in a day)!

Here’s where to find this Comfort Zone on a 'don't-you-talk-to-me' Sunday:

144 Yongkang Lu,

near Xiangyang Nan Lu,
Xuhui district

Bell them at: 

186 1628 2121

Around where I live

Oh hey. So I never said this was going to be about food, only, right? I said I would TRY to keep this mostly about food. But that from time to time, other fancies might overpower the food fetish ("might" being an almost-afterthought, but the operative word here). Tsk… so here’s to the fine print and disclaimers you all never read (and I may never have written!).

 Then again, think about this, will you. Feasting could involve any of the five senses, could it not?

Well, for your sakes and mine, let’s just hope it involves only the two most tangible ones for now!

So on a weekend when I am not out and about stuffing my face, and being a pig in general, I use my other senses to feast. Most notably, the permanent lenses in the top half of my face. Yes, those would be my eyes, you geniuses. I am curious and wonder-struck about the world at large, yes, even at my ripe old age of almost a crypt-keeper-like number.

Here’s to some quirky eye candy then, until the food fetish returns!

He and I 

“When words run dry

he does not try,
nor do I.

We are on par.
 

He just is,

I just am
and we just are.”

 -          By Lang Leav

 

Dressing Cynthia

I am not a cold Cynthia,

with pearls, then. Am I?
My lips too warm for lies
of the sort you know

But there you go, again

Dressing me up
In a brush-stroked salmon pink dress

Asking me to dance the Merengue,

white orchids at my feet
fairy lights around my neck;
my salmon pink dress swirling about me.

“May I have the pleasure of this dance?”

I give you my chandelier-smile and say
“I am just a headless mannequin…
And there are no encounters by chance.”

 

(P.S. I always quote the poems written by others. Those without acknowledgment, therefore, can safely and lawsuit-lessly be assumed to be my own. That, however, does not give any of you the liberty to re-post any of this stuff on Pinterest or Tumblr, or wherever else, without referencing back to me.)

The Taverna

Insalata Gelata

 

So, given that we have had over two weeks of non-stop Mumbai-monsoon level rains in Shanghai, I decided that the only way to beat the rainy day blues and my ever-alive Mumbai nostalgia, was to get summer colors painted on my nails!

 Yeah, I am shallow like that. Go ahead and judge me.

 So, I got myself a pistachio green first. Which made me look like a fluorescent finger-tipped ghost.  Never to mix ice cream colors with nail paint. Bad idea, that. Next was coral orange. Nice on walls. Unfortunately, I am not a wall. I wish I were though – I could always wear a color of the day, and I could be painted over, on a bad day, right? Or hang a board that read "Closed" if I didn't want to talk to any of you people. And finally, it was that gleaming maroon-red color of the vixen catty kind. Then again, I am not a cat person. Danggit, by this time, my manicurist had just about had it. She looked at me with pleading eyes this time.

 I asked her to wipe ‘em clean. And went back squarely to nude. Yes nude IS a color. Just as taupe is. For all you men out there. Taupe and Nude - my favorite all-weather staples after all.

 Summer (or the lack of it) be damned.

 Oh and before I forget, I was actually going somewhere with this thought! But you’ve got to admit, you were having fun reading about my temporary obsession over nail color.

 There is a reason for this prelude. Across from the street where I put my manicurist through an hour and a half of indecisive vacillating Hell, sits a Mediterranean forest-green colored Italian bistro called The Taverna. Nothing out of a smoking Western, let me assure you. And nothing very Sicilian about it either.

 It’s the usual play-it-safe Italian food, with a half-decent collection of wine, and really good desserts and selection of tea varietals. So what’s so special about it? Probably nothing much after all, apart from the mirrored walls (ooh, so you are a fetishist that way?!), the blue-green Mediterranean feel of it on a good bright day, an intimate ambience (if you’re the eat-less and look-into-her-eyes-more type) and the staff who always remember what customers like. That, in my books, earns more points than the actual food or drink itself!

 

 Now for the food. Yes yes, I am getting to that!

 

Mainly There

I would stay away from the standard fare Pasta, Risotto, Lasagnes. Nothing much to tell it apart from its more famous cousins such as Bella Napoli and the rest. I would, thus, head straight from the Beef Carpaccios on the Appetizers  or their really good “Healthy Salads” to the Mains, and dive in to the sea of Grilled sea bass or Grilled Norwegian salmon and other Piscean varietals (each in the range of a 100 quai or so). Great with a chilled glass of white on a hottish day. The staff are good with wine pairings, especially the lady running the bar. She knows the wine she owns. So ask away!

 The sausages, T-bones and grilled lamb chops are nothing to write home about either. Wholesome and hearty on a good day, a little chewy on a bad day. Nothing that you couldn’t fill up on, anywhere else in town.

Paninily Yours

The salads and Paninis are worth the mention though, outside of the grilled fish. The set lunches come with a choice of interesting Paninis such as “Parma ham, rocket, mushroom, mozzarella and cocktail sauce”, or my personal favorite “Grilled mixed vegetables, anchovies, extra virgin olive oil, and balsamic vinegar”. Who on earth discovered anchovies brined in oil? Please, may I kiss his hands? The Paninis all come with a choice of soup, and something cold to drink (non-alcoholic, that is), and priced between 45-65 quai.

 

Of their salads, my favorites are the Insalata Valtellina – “Salad with walnuts, apple, mozzarella, and speck”; and the Insalata di tonno e avocado – “Salad with tuna, avocado, peppers and onions”. All in the 60-65 quai range. All served with something cold. Of the non-alcoholic kind. You want alcoholic kind – you pay for it.

Not-so-Dolce Vita

 Aah, but the desserts! This is where La Taverna outdoes itself. Like the classic Western, which has the end coming at you, all guns blazing and rooftops smoking. That sort. Am I beginning to sound like I have a dessert fetish of sorts? Take me with a pinch of salt, then. Take me with a pinch of salt. Anyway.

Their Tiramisu and Crepes with Nutella and banana are outstanding. All served with a dash of chocolate syrup and a cherry on top, and sprigs of parsley, which make it interesting for some reason. Anything can happen here. Sometimes, even nothing. That’s the beauty of a place like this!

 On my last time here, I ordered the crepes with nutella and bananas. And sat back admiring my nude-ish nails and gloating at my now-elegant looking hands. After a while, the server brought me my crepes and laid it down in front of me. “Come to mama”, I am thinking. Just as I was reaching for it, though, another server came rushing to my table, swift as the wind, and before my fingers had even closed around the white dessert bowl, swooped it away from me, saying that that was the LAST crepe they had, and it was apparently ordered by someone else. The junior server had delivered it to me by mistake!

Umm how do you run a kitchen that decides at 6:00 PM in the evening that it has just created the last magnificent crepe of the day and no more crepes will be served before dawn of next day? Not only was I mortified at this, but by now, I had secretly started imagining the taste of the crepes on my tongue. Mmm, luscious is NOT the word. But I am a big girl, remember? So, disappointed though I was, I had to be graceful about this sad turn of events.

What was the next best thing then, I asked?

The server flashed his triumphant smile at having been saved a yelling-at from me (I don’t yell at people, anyway – I am one of those “brought-up-right-by-mommy” types), and pointed to the “Chocolate Rolls filled with biscuits, pine nuts and walnuts”. Equally triumphantly, he said it cost just the same as the Crepes. 35 quai. Terrific. I will have that with a cheery cherry on top, and my usual vanilla raspberry tea, thank you.

The rolls arrived. Cold, Inviting and all ready for me.

 

The girl on the table next to me eyed my chocolate rolls with desire and something more of the unmentionable kind, and asked the server for the same.

He shook his head sadly and very earnestly (Russell Peter-ish style) and said “Noooooo. That was the last.”

Su-w-eee-t, I think.

Vengeance is best served cold.
Sweet vengeance, that is.

I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder and smiling at her, as I got up to leave. Bitch, is me.

 

Here is where to find this green-blue mirrored bit of cold vengeance
(and no, its not even the Fifth of November yet - those of you who know me well, will get this!) :

148, Fumin Lu

(Off Julu Lu)

Nearest Metro station: Changshu Lu (10-min walk)

Xuhui district

Bell them at: +86 21 6418 3991

Pastis

Bon Vivant

Of Peter Mayle, and his trilogy of “A year in Provence”, “Encore Provence” and “Toujours Provence”. That, and the sharp, sweet twang of fennel it brings to mind – after a particularly satisfying meal.

And then the actual taste of the wonderful Pastis itself. An alcoholic drink that is as French as the charming bistro I stumbled upon, on an afternoon jaunt of Yongkang Lu – the “the new NEW street” in Shanghai, flanked by bars and cafes on either side, right off a left from Yongjia Lu. Yongkang Lu seems to have distinctly Lan Kwai Fong ambitions, of the Hong Kong kind. Not bad in itself, but not quite the parking spot for a shy, young, soft-spoken French bistro.

So it is perhaps serendipity or otherwise real-estate-dictated good fortune that Pastis is cleverly and nicely tucked away – at the other end of Yongkang Lu. Not to be mistaken for its more rowdy cousins up the street. Not that I have any bone to pick with its rowdier cousins – am actually quite fond of “The Sailors Fish & Chips”…but if you’re on that street, and you happen to be a new kid on the block, you might get bullied by the older kids, and perhaps suffer a bit of a cultural and an existential crisis, that publicity-shy, brand-new testing-the-waters restaurants are prone to do.

So having tired of the usual, I walked down the other side of Yongkang Lu – simply out of curiosity. And Voila! Curiosity is most always rewarded, and generously at that! Right across my view was a lovely French bistro called Pastis, with pretty red checkered table cloths covering tables laid out in the sun. And enough tables to seat a good bunch of maybe 25-30 people packed to the rafters on a good day, but homey enough, nonetheless.

I like homey. I dig homey. The same reason I like Cotton's.

Especially when I stumble upon homey on a day before its soft launch, and hardly any customers!  Joy to my world!

I ask to be seated outside, and instantly, the very young and very shy Augustin de-seats his girlfriend from one of the outside tables, to seat me. And I am somewhat guilty, but somewhat secretly kicked at having secured an al-fresco table on a lovely spring day at a quaint French restaurant called Pastis.

It being about 4pm, I start off with something in-between – not quite lunch. I am an in-betweener, by the way, with everything in life, so suits me just fine.

Prawn Appetit

So Flamed Prawns with Pastis, it is! The salmon miso with mashed potatoes has incredible promise, but then again, it is 4:00pm, and daylight soft on my shoulder. I am conscious of not over-eating at the wrong time of day. And the wine is already making everything mildly floaty, in a good way, of course. Augustin has recommended a good red from their suppliers – a heady Comte Laborde.
Merci, Augustin!

The wonderful thing about Pastis is that it has a small menu customized everyday by Emanuel (or Manu), Augustin’s father, and is chalked up on a blackboard for the day. Which means what you get is immaculate. Almost.  And while Manu is still overseeing the soft launch and training the kitchen staff, he is doing the actual stirring, cooking, and the creating of sinful pleasures – all on his lonesome.

The prawns were nearly there, although personally, I would have preferred to have them doused in Pastis a tad bit more! Maybe that's just my severe alcoholism speaking!

The bread is freshly baked and good as freshly baked bread goes.

Halfway through my meal, my girlfriends arrived and it was time to head straight to dessert and coffee.

Pastis-serie
Aah, to be served crepes with nutella, made right, the French way! I have to say here, that I have been forever spoiled rotten, as far as crepes and quiches go, because of my French room-mate in grad school, who insisted on turning out perfectly made crepes and quiches every Sunday morning. If she forgot or felt lazy, I would gently remind her of how a good French Sunday morning back in Marseilles would be incomplete without a quiche and crepes. Like any good, duty-bound room-mate ought to. So anything less, is no-can-do!

And thus, emerges my yardstick for a good French restaurant. One that turns out crepes, as soft and as delish, as from Stephanie’s kitchen, all those years back!

I have to say that Manu’s crepes totally hit the sweet spot. Even as the prawns could have been more drunken.

And their coffee is very good too – sourced as it is, from Café del Volcan (up the road). I ask for the Guatemalan, a little nutty, a little chocolatey. Perfect for rounding off a satisfying meal in a cozy little bistro off a charming street with friends, and cheery red tablecloths and two perfect hosts in Manu and Augustin, for company.

On the whole, I am definitely going back, for the salmon miso!

You should too, while Manu wields the ladle! And long afterwards.

Pastis is also very easy on the pocket -the right value for money, as you can see from the menu chalked up on the board. We paid no more than 200 odd quai for the prawns, a glass of wine, crepes and the coffee!

And yes, the pastis is on the house the next time. Nah-uh. Not for you, regular folks. Don't let that send you off rubbing your eyes in the pre-dawn haze of morning to Pastis, for the promise of free pastis. The offer is only for us three ladies. Just because.

No wonder then, that I am waiting for a restaurant called Absynthe to open up, and for me to stumble upon it by accident before its soft launch. For obvious reasons.

Here is where to find this slice of heaven:

111, Yongkang Lu
(Off Xiangyang Lu)
Xuhui district

Bell them at: +86 21 6415 4377