Tucking Into Tibetan Thain Thuk At Tashi Delek In El Cerrito

Tashi Delek's Thain Thuk, up close and personal

It's not often I get coaxed outside the boundaries of San Francisco for some noodle goodness, but I couldn't resist the prospect of a family-style hole-in-the-wall Tibetan restaurant with a hard-to-find noodle soup dish.  The restaurant in question was Tashi Delek, in El Cerrito, and the noodle dish Thain Thuk.

I found Tashi Delek a 10-minute walk south from the El Cerrito del Norte BART Station along San Pablo Avenue, next to a pupuseria called Taqueria El Salva Mex. Tashi Delek (the phrase is a generic Tibetan well-wishing greeting) promises "Tibetan, Indian and Nepali Cuisine" according to its store sign. (There are Bhutanese dishes on the menu as well; perhaps they couldn't fit Bhutan on the sign.)  Make no mistake, though, this is a restaurant that leads with its Tibetan foot, featuring dishes like the noodle dish I was seeking, and snack favorites beyond momos like shogo khatsa and sha bhaley which I've previously only scored from the Tibetans of Himalayan Heights, Queens, New York. The proprietors/operators of Tashi Delek are Kunkhen Sherpa and Pasang Lama, and I can't think of two better names to be getting my Tibetan food from.

Thain Thuk literally means "pulled noodles" and is pronounced something like "tain took." (With that knowledge, read the post title again and appreciate my pun.)  They're not the showy pulled noodles you may be thinking of, but flat strips of dough pulled thin, then torn into approximately rectangular pieces and tossed into simmering broth, a meat or vegetable stock with ginger, garlic, onion, tomato, spring onion, salt and a splash of soy sauce, according to one recipe. To this is added, along with the noodles, beef or chicken (or vegetables for a vegetarian version) and thin slices of daikon. A generous topping of spinach and cilantro completes the dish.

I ordered the beef version, based on the recommendation of Ms. Sherpa, who was the entire "front of the house" at that time of day on a Tuesday. When my bowl arrived, I first tasted the broth.  It had the depth and complexity one would expect, but was a little on the bland side, I thought. Ms. Sherpa, who watched me tasting it, read my mind and offered me a pot of chili paste. A couple of tiny spoonfuls made the broth right, and I tucked in to my thain thuk. The noodle pieces were delightfully chewy, and the beef bits fresh and rare, like you might get with a good bowl of pho, but thicker. Overall, it was a hearty and delicious soup, one that can, according to one website, keep the nomads warm during the long Tibetan winters.  It was El Cerrito and 65° F, but it worked for me anyway.

Where slurped: 11224 San Pablo Ave., El Cerrito CA (near El Cerrito del Norte BART Station)

Mohinga Tour VI: Mohinga At Pagan Restaurant Is A Pagan Pleasure

My Great San Francisco Mohinga Rally finally delivered me to Pagan Restaurant in the Outer Richmond, for stop number six of eight.  It was a while coming, because Pagan only has lunch service on weekends, and lunchtime is when I do most of my exploring.  Besides, mohinga is generally considered a breakfast food.

Pagan, now called Bagan, is an ancient city in central Burma known for its many pagodas. (Yes, I know it's Myanmar, not Burma, but I'll be damned if I'm going to write about "Myanmar-ese food.") Pagan, its namesake San Francisco restaurant, serves both Burmese and Thai cuisines, neatly segregated on the menu, but it's clear from the  images adorning its coyly rustic walls as well as from its name which cuisine is in the hearts of its Burmese-by-way-of-Thailand owners.

Pagan was nearly full at 1:15, but they managed to find a table for me. The nearly all Caucasian lunchtime clientele seemed mostly in the younger Gen X and older Gen Y age group, possibly graduates of Burma Superstar. (I've grown accustomed to being the oldest person in the room, and that's the only way I would have it.) As near as I could tell, most of the orders were for Burmese food, though in many cases it's hard to tell at first glance. Service was diligent but dilatory, as there was but a single server for the whole room.

I ordered mohinga with a side order of palata (a.k.a. paratha, prata, etc.), a pan-fried flatbread. I won't explain mohinga again (there's a search box aove for your convenience)!  The mohinga, when it came, wasn't the prettiest I've been served (the few egg slices, for example, were buried in the tangle of thin rice noodles, not laid out neatly on top) but was definitely among the tastiest.  The rich catfish broth was intense and garlicky, though perhaps a little too salty, and there was a plentiful supply of yellow chick peas as well as chick pea wafers.

I also liked Pagan's version of palata. They were very thick and well browned, and not overly greasy. The main drawback was their very heaviness; I was unable to finish one side order along with my bowl of soup.

This pagan is eager to return to Pagan for their ohn no khao swe (coconut chicken curry noodle soup) and other noshes once he's finished his mohinga round.

Where slurped: Pagan Restaurant, 3199 Clement St., San Francisco

Winning the Xi'an Trifecta at Terra Cotta Warrior With Qishan Saozi Mian

Yes, three of my last four posts have been about the same restaurant, but I do have an obsession with the cuisine of Xi'an and Shaanxi province, arguably the seat of noodle culture in China, and was eager to vet what I consider my three benchmark bowls for this cuisine at the recently opened Terra Cotta Warrior. (Not to mention that I was hankering for another lamb roujiamo.) The first two benchmark dishes, reported on above, are you po che mian and mian pi; the third, and perhaps the most spectacular is Qishan saozi mian, appearing in English on TCW's menu as "Qishan minced pork noodles."

Qishan saozi mian is a venerable dish, with a history of more than 2,000 years. It's actually named for Mt. Qi in Baoji, about 100 miles west of Xi'an in Shaanxi province, but claimed by Xi'an restaurants. It is somewhat inelegantly described by People's Daily Online thusly:

Qishan Saozi Mian (Qishan-style noodles with minced meat) has a long history. It began as early as in the Zhou Dynasty (1046 BC – 256 BC). It is a kind of noodles poured with pork soups (Saozi means diced meat) plus tofu, dried lily flowers, agaric, kelp, carrots and Chinese chives or garlic sprouts and tastes sour and hot, leaving people delicious aftertastes. Qishan Saozi Mian is well-known far and near for its “thin, pliable, smooth, sour, spicy, scented, hot, watery and greasy” features.

There are a lot of variances among versions, particularly in the type of noodle used, the prominence of the chili oil in the broth and the complexity of the toppings (the version at NY's Xi'an Famous Foods is somewhat lazy in that regard).  Some versions are served in a shallow bath of broth, others as a full-fledged bowl of soup. Pork is the standard meat ingredient, though beef or lamb may be used in muslim areas.

Terra Cotta Warrior's Qishan saozi mian uses long, fat, hand-pulled noodles in a soup bowl, and in general seems true to the form described by People's Daily in terms of it ingredients. It used finely minced pork (consistent with the vegetable cutting) and most or all of the vegetal ingredients called out (the "agaric" being wood ear mushroome).  I also detected doufu pi (a.k.a. yuba). I'm not sure about the kelp. Chili oil was used liberally, which did make it a little on the oily side, but heck, it's (presumably) vegetable oil. I'm guessing vinegar was also used as it was sourer than the garlic chives would account for. Overall, it was as intriguing taste-wise as it was visually, and a dish I'll be gad to return to.

The Qishan saozi mian at Terra Cotta Warrior came through for me and I've won the Xi'an trifecta!

Where slurped: Terra Cotta Warrior, 2555 Judah St. at 31st Ave., San Francisco