Awe-Ssam-ness at Momofuku SSam Bar – NYC

I just had Ssam

And it felt so good

Chang put a prix fixe meal inside me…

I just had Ssam

And I’ll never go back

To the not-havin’-ssam way of the past

A parody of a parody. This is my finest satirical moment. Though it’s not really satire if you secretly love the song…I’m not saying that it’s on my ipod, my computer, AND my phone, but I’m not saying it isn’t…

I’m back in NYC for the first time in a year, and naturally I’m realizing a NYC-life-long dream of conquering David Chang’s empire one restaurant at a time. Ssam was the perfect restaurant for my NYC revival – it was my sorely-needed reminder of why I so desperately miss my empire state of mind. And believe me, I still wanna be a part of it in old New York.

As per Momofuku tradition, we started with the Pork Buns, the Empire State Building of the Momofukus. As the signature landmark of a much bigger masterpiece, they met their usual Empire height of awesome perfection except the pork buns really are the tallest buns in the world – no way they’ll ever steadily drop to 19^th like the building.

We took a chance with the Spicy Honeycomb Tripe, which was as prudent a decision as venturing out to Times Square on New Year’s Eve. The festive coleslaw-like party of perfect tripe, paper-thin celery, and pickled tomatoes was a bit overrated and was clearly a much better idea in theory than in practice. The ball sure looks pretty when it drops on NYE, but the crowd of wasted tourists makes it hard to see. The tripe sure looked pretty in that mélange of green and red, but the acrid surfeit of ginger-scallion made it was hard to taste.

The Veal Sweetbreads were a much-needed reprieve from sharp ginger-scallion and tasted like a pastry from my favorite shop. Creamy as a Pasticceria Rocco cannoli; it’s simple goodness, with no over-priced complications of that tourist-trap Magnolia. The creamy almond sauce was sweet as candy, the crisp breading gives it a satisfying crunch, and the not-at-all-sour sauerkraut and kick of chili keep it light. That creamy mascarpone from Rocco’s is also as sweet as candy, the crunchy pastry shell gives it a satisfying crunch, and the fluffy texture keeps it light. When you’re done with the sweetbreads, make sure to find its equivalent in dessert. Everyone should experience pure ecstasy at least once in life.

Next was the monumental Duck Sandwich - an imposingly large roll with crispy crust filled with good stuff and buried treasure. The parts of the sandwich are easy to savor, but you need to persist for a bit if you really want to dig out all the flavors. Like the Strand, a mecca of used books, you begin by appreciating the sheer size (sorry guys, it matters…) – the sandwich is clearly more than enough for one and perfect for two to share (that’s what she said), and the Strand is just massive. You walk in the door and you taste the slice of duck, and you notice all the nondescript shelves of popular reads and uniformly chopped iceberg lettuce. If you stick around long enough to go to the basement of the Strand, you wander the endless archival shelves and start to unearth the sweetness of the peppadews. Everything is held together by the overall theme of rich literature, and crystal mayo gives the ingredients of the sandwich an unparalleled harmony. But sometimes the Strand and this sandwich get to be too much, so share with a friend and know that you’re no less of a New Yorker if you don’t go back.

The endnote of Pear Sorbet was the very foot of the Statue of Liberty back when Ellis Island was actually used to immigrants. An initial cacophony of mixes, the ingredients of this dish are as distinct as each country represented by the huddled masses that once flocked to NYC, but they eventually collaborated into what is now America’s melting pot. As initially jarring as America to an immigrant, the pear sorbet is one of few desserts that isn’t sweet. But take a few bites and you’ll see that the pumpkin and the sorbet are a rich combination, and the blue cheese adds a whole new layer and texture. It would have been better with less blue cheese as too much of this pungent accompaniment sometimes drowned out the other subtle creams and overwhelmed the palate, but props to Ssam for having the nerve to serve something so foreign to the mainstream desert culture of sugar by the pound.

The Grapefruit Pie was a hidden treasure, much like those I uncovered during my thrifting days. I was skeptical when I heard I would be eating something consisting entirely of grapefruit, but I was as wrong about the pie as I was about thrift shops. The pie was so fresh I felt I was biting into a ripe creamy grapefruit straight off the vine. The candied grapefruit was impossibly cool and refreshing, and this pie disappeared faster than vintage Chanel. Like the thrift stores, with that first bite, when I first opened the door of that first shop, I knew I’d struck gold.

I give Ssam a tentative 4 stars. The food was amazing with a few deductions, and I’ll need an entourage to tackle the gorgeous platters of Bo Ssam and Duck Ssam. I’ll also need to try a few more of the meat dishes and gander at some duck before I can make an entirely fair judgment. But fear not, it won’t be long before I’m back, and I’m guessing it won’t be long before Ssam earns another star.