Boiling Point UPDATE - Gardena

How do you make hot pot travel well? You don’t.

Covid presents unique challenges for restaurants, some far more than others. Boiling Point is the severest of sufferers, with its signature heated pots of Asian stew. Some things just aren’t meant for a take-home box, and bagging up a hot pot gets you a lukewarm mess. Their House Special, for example, has a smooth yet pungent broth of fermented tofu funk that does not lack potential. I love that the after-shock of the tofu sneaks into your sinuses, and the shreds of pickled Chinese radish add a salinity that is unique. The contents are a sampling of all the Asian things, but here's where it starts to devolve.  The curly slices of pork get tough as they continue to cook in the back of the Doordash car, the pieces of intestine boil into a texture of slimy rubber, and the meatball is rubber to begin with. I do love the soft chunk of taro, and the sweet n’ chewy fish cakes are always fun. There’s even a cute little quail egg that comes up when you dig deep, but I wish there was more than one of something so small. 

I prefer the sweeter spice of the Korean Bean Paste broth, which is thicker and richer, though lacking in layers of flavor like the house special. They call the sliced pork “belly”, and it may have been fattier and lighter, but it’s pretty hard to tell, again due to the cooking en route. There’s a chunk of hybrid fish cake-tofu stamped most adorably, a single chewy fish ball with visible chunks of lobster, and ropy egg noodles that lost some al dente in transit. I like the sweet zucchini and enoki, and there are plenty of bean sprouts to calm the burn.

The apps survive the trip better than the entrees, though they didn't leave a lasting impression themselves. The Holy Cow has all my favorite parts: tripe, tendon, and slices of soy sauce beef, but they're drenched in a numbing chili oil that completely takes over. I know spice is a matter of preference, but I felt like I was sipping from the bottle at times. 

The Spicy Fermented Tofu is coated with the exact same oil, and a similar layer of it also graces the Korean hot pot. I welcome a bit a spice, but so much of the same can get old pretty fast. The tofu itself is a palatal adventure. It starts as just a chewy bean curd, dense but porous. Then the funk sneaks in, spreading through the back of your throat and up your nose like a force. Your eyes will water as putrid turns to pleasure, just be prepared to literally feel fumes in your brain. 

Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. Just like boba without the boba is just tea, hot pot without the hot pot is just a soup that's overcooked. I hate writing this review because I love Boiling Point, but boxing up a hot pot is a no-go. I do hope they find a way to hang in, though, because I'll sit down to show my support as soon as it is safe!