I was in Germany last week and ate exceptionally well while I was there. In search of a traditional meal one evening, I found myself on a quiet block of Frankfurt’s Rosenbergerstrasse where I had been told I would find a suitable restaurant to meet my needs.
Indeed, the place in question, a rustic winter cabin-like space with brick, wood, and fire-burning hearths, delivered big time and I was soon tucking into a dish of knusprige schweinehaxe, or crispy pig’s knuckle, served with roasted potatoes and sauerkraut with bacon.
The knuckle, also known as a pork hock, is the portion of the leg above the pig’s ankle. It supplies an ample amount of meat and, in the case of my meal, a stunning fat cap on one side that was rendered into crispy, caramelized crackling.
The combination of the tender pork meat, its crunchy fat, the tart cabbage and the lovely golden potatoes, all washed down with a hefty pour of local pilsner, was simply glorious.
I have recounted this meal to numerous people and have discovered that not everyone shares my enthusiasm for this style of eating; in fact, some people have been outright put off by the idea of eating a hock as the central part of the meal.
Food traditions certainly vary and I can see how if pig’s knuckle is a new item for you, its bold flavour and unique texture may take some getting used to.
Coming from an Eastern European tradition on my mother’s side, this kind of food is familiar to me and I take comfort in it.
These were the thoughts swimming through my head during my recent visit to Chef Hung Taiwanese Beef Noodle, a Taiwanese food joint specializing in the eponymous dish. The Ambleside location is one of a handful of international restaurants bearing this name; the group has cleaned up at beef noodle competitions globally.
The conversation about unfamiliar textures and flavours came to the fore for me because Chef Hung’s menu features a number of preparations of offal, which I felt obliged to try. I have long admired certain cuisines of the world for their commitment to using every bit of the animal, wasting nothing and devising ingenious recipes that elevate a conventionally poor cut along the way.
South Asian culinary traditions are particularly adept at this no-waste approach and Taiwanese food is no exception.
And so it was that, tucked into a booth seat in the busy restaurant, chopsticks and tea at the ready, I was first served an appetizer of cold Marinated Pig’s Ear, then another of spicy Szechuan Flavour Beef Offal Specialty (tripe, brisket and tendon), and finally a massive, steaming bowl of award-winning Beef Shank, Tendon and Tripe with Noodles in Soup.
Now, to be clear, there are many non-offal dishes on the menu here, including deep fried pork chops, boiled bok choy, ginger chicken wings and fried tofu. But the menu certainly does seem to lean to the less choice cuts of meat (by Western culinary standards, anyway) and they are nicely realized here with deft seasoning.
I enjoyed the beef offal specialty more than the pig’s ear, not because the latter was flawed in any way, but because my largely uninitiated Western palate struggled with the texture and temperature of the dish. It had an undeniable springy crunch to it and I couldn’t help but think that had it been fried, for instance, it would have taken on a texture not unlike bacon and would have been more accessible to me.
That said, the ear nevertheless boasted deep flavours of sesame and salty soy sauce and, solely on the basis of taste, was not a particularly exotic dish.
The offal, also served cold, was much more approachable, with tender and meaty bits of brisket, succulent, round and fatty morsels of tendon (familiar to anyone who eats pho with any frequency), and light, spongy bites of tripe. A spicy marinade, along with a few slivers of fresh red chilies, elevated the dish.
But the real stars of the show, as the restaurant’s name suggests, are the championship-winning beef noodle dishes. Diners can choose their proteins, style of noodle (thin, flat, rice or vermicelli), and the spice level of the broth. I
opted for flat noodles in my soup, and was rewarded by a substantial portion of beautiful, golden al dente broad noodles that resembled in shape, texture and even flavour, hand-made pappardelle.
The deep, chestnut-hued broth was full of rich flavours, obviously the result of a long, slow reduction process and the meats, including pieces of spongy honeycomb tripe, tender shank and tendon, were generously portioned and succulent.
A little ramekin of spicy, fermented cabbage provided a great flavour boost to the meal, as did lovely, spicy, subtly toasty chilli oil, with which every table is equipped.
My meal, which was too much food for a single setting, was $27 before gratuity. Chef Hung Taiwanese Beef Noodle is located at 1560 Marine Dr., West Vancouver. 778-279-8822. chefhungnoodle.com
Chris Dagenais served as a manager for several restaurants downtown and on the North Shore. A self-described wine fanatic, he earned his sommelier diploma in 2001. He can be reached via email at [email protected]. North Shore News dining reviews are conducted anonymously and all meals are paid for by the newspaper.
