Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Closing the Boston Chapter - Part 2: Chung Shin Yuan

I made a half-hearted entry a while back lamenting my lust for Taiwanese brunch in Newton. Before I left for California, I finally upped the whining and wrangled up a few church buddies of Taiwanese heritage to take me to this mythical, best-of-the-best, hidden food stop.

I had to overcome a few other hurdles to make this food voyage. First, the restaurant name is unapologetically Chinese which on the surface intimidates me - as a part Chinese-American, by way of a couple generations of family that kept British English as their home language, I've played deaf and dumb to any Mandarin, Cantonese, Taiwanese, etc... I've encountered. I usually assume that any Chinese restaurant with a real Chinese name at least has a second English name for me to use so I won't embarrass myself by butchering some poor transliteration of the original.

Second, the restaurant's Newton-Watertown border location is just plain F-A-R to most lay carless Bostonians. This truth had been a put-off to my usual food-hopping pals. Chung Shin Yuan could've been in Timbuktu for all some people cared.

Third, the restaurant exterior is almost scary. The sign is so faded and the exterior is so nondescript, that my Boston-hardened heart would've immediately rejected this place on it's lack of curb appeal alone. Apparently, my time on the East Coast clouded one of my life experience personal truths that many a good ethnic restaurant can (and sometimes must) be found in unlikely places, such as a strip mall or gas station.

Fourth, rumors I heard about the weekend brunch line were legendary - most folks recommended at least a half-hour wait. One couple I knew said that being in line didn't even guarantee you'd make it for one of the brunch seatings.

Waiting line at 11:05 AM from Exploding taste buds lead to exploding waistlines


The restaurant opens at 11:30, so my pals and I arrived at 10:55. We were the first in line, and a dozen more people lined up behind us in no time. The smells of slow cooking meat and spices were wafting in the air as the crowd waited -- a heart-warming aroma for many that was only slightly interrupted by the cups of coffee that some folks brought in line from the MickeyD's next door. The restaurant opened it's doors a bit early at 11:20. The dining room (which was decorated quite tastefully as compared to the lame exterior) was completely seated within a couple minutes with the second-wave diners already in line out front. We ordered quickly and had food brought to us with great speed.

I'm pretty sure my favorite menu item was the simplest: the sweetened soy milk. Our bowl was steamy, sweet, and only slightly creamy. I think American soy drinks miss the boat completely when it comes to the Chinese soy milk experience. The consistency of soy milk is delicate and silky... with more of a mouthfeel that resembles fat-free or 1% milk rather than chalky, thickened-up whole milk.

Soy milk from Exploding taste buds lead to exploding waistlines


Youtiao from Exploding taste buds lead to exploding waistlines


The Chinese doughnuts (youtiao) were hot 'n crispy, and, yes, oily. Don't let the doughnut grease scare you, only a minimal residual amount clings to the crispy/doughy sticks. You won't even notice it after you've dunked your youtiao in your bowl of sweet soy milk, anyway.

The shoabing was also really tasty. The flaky golden pastry that sandwiched perfectly seasoned cold beef cuts was delicious and only had that nice suggestion of sweetness after you gobbled the whole thing up. I would've ordered a whole one for myself if I didn't care to look like a bigger pig than usual.

Shoabing from Exploding taste buds lead to exploding waistlines


The pan fried steam buns were doughy and full of juicy meatball goodness. But, compared to everything else, they seemed like filler. The Chinese leek pie and scallion pancake were also good in their fried glory, but their lack of animal meat or sugary goodness put them in the back of my mind. The salty soy milk was also good, but as a newbie I had no other experiences with which to compare it. If you think of salty soy milk as less like milk and more like a miso soup experience, you'll enjoy it. They add soy sauce and vinegar to the milk which helps curdle up the soy proteins into little silken tofu-like curds.

From Exploding taste buds lead to exploding waistlines


So if you want to ditch the dim sum carts of Chinatown, line up early for a Taiwanese brunch at Chung Shin Yuan instead.

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