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I’d been hearing about Mission Street Food, Anthony Myint’s experiment in piratical restauranteering for a while, but hadn’t made it by the cart.  When they announced they were moving the cart into a restaurant space, I feared I’d missed my chance, and the magic might be gone.  But when they announced they’d be taking advantage of the wok and doing duck fat fried rice – I suspected my fears were unfounded.

I got in early, and grabbed a table by the door.  There was minor commotion as the restaurant wait staff sorted out the logistics of the space, and boxes of Tiger beer were still being carried in the front door.  Inside or not, the just-in-time nature of the restaurant gives it a distinct underground flair, and I think it’s only fair to give the staff something of a pass as they transition with slight bumps to a restaurant space. I ordered a Tiger beer – a generic import lager, cold and flavorless.  I wonder if they’d let me bring in a big bottle of something Belgian in with me? Please?

 

  

 

 

We placed an order for most of the menu, and settled in. The small restaurant quickly filled up and a crowd gathered at the door. I nursed my beer and reveled in the foodie speakeasy flair of the whole operation. 

First up was the PB&J and the MSF Rice.  

 

 

PB & J is actually Kurobuta Berkshire Pork Belly & Jicama with pickled jalapeno and cilantro aioli on fresh home-made flatbread. The flatbread reminded me of malaysian roti – it was slightly chewy, but rich and tender.  The big chunks of everything fell apart when I tried to eat it – I can’t imagine trying to do so on the street – but the flavors were amazing.  The sweet peppers, the crisp jicama, the fatty and crisp hot pork; I was sold. 

 

 

The rice was equally great.  The menu lists it as “Smoked Rice, fried with duck fat. With liberty duck confit, cracklins, shitake, scallions and cauliflower.”  The rice was well cooked and had a very mild smoke note, and had a slight crunch from the real chinese wok.  It was all of the goodies hidden in the rice that that really made it fun.  On top was a small pile of duck confit, but hidden inside the rice were cracklings.  Cracklings are small bits of fried pork skin, and each brown morsel was a succulent burst of rich pork fat.  Hunting through the rice looking for cracklings became a somewhat competitive activity, and when they were gone we cleaned out the rest of the bowl. 

Next came our soup, where we took the opportunity to order dessert and one more PB&J – for good measure.  Each item was inexpensively priced, but really only a serving for one – if you go hungry, get at least two items each. Plus dessert.  Definitely get dessert.  And the soup! (of course, none of these recommendations are going to matter, since the menu is continually rotating – that’s the whole point.) 

 

 

The soup is called Ono Kauswe and described as “Coconut Curry Soup with noodles, spicy chicken, egg, cilantro, lime, chili flakes, and fried shallots. Just like Poa Poa used to make.”

This was a serious soup.  The broth was thick, and completely filled with rice noodles.  The chicken was good, but it was the whole fried shallot - caramelized to enough sweetness to stand up to the coconut milk both – that really made it. 

Dessert was a scoop of ginger and a scoop of coconut ice cream, topped with a light “fortune cookie” which contained the fortune “You will eat a valentine dumpling with an alien princess.”       …in bed.   The cookie itself was wafer thin and studded with sesame seeds.  Both ice creams were good, but the coconut one just seemed creamier. 

Full, and wanting to give up our table, we paid our bill (delivered on yellow steno-pad style post-it) and snuck into the kitchen to say hello and thank them for a great meal.  It was a cramped, small space, and the two cooks were hard at work at work managing the food.  What looked like the regular cook at this chinese restaurant watched from rear of the kitchen. Apparently, you can still order chinese food if you want it.

 

 

 

 

On the line, there was a huge iron wok with a massive burner underneath manned by one cook, who pushed the smoked rice into the bottom of the wok with pressure to get the crust and texture into the rice.  He also was managing several pans o flatbread on the stove. Anthony Myint busily assembled PB&J flatbreads in street vendor paper trays and soups.  I also discovered that the pork belly is deep fried to order – no wonder it was so crunchy on the outside. 

 
 

By now the orders were piling up, and in this very small kitchen, I was in the way.  There was barely enough room for two guest cooks, a bored-looking chef supervising an invaded kitchen, on top of a waitress retrieving orders and a nosy customer. I thanked them again for dinner, and headed out.

In front, the line had continued to swell, and every seat was packed.  I think Anthony Myint has a hit on his hands here. It really feels like an “only in the Mission” kind of event and I’m particularly intrigued by his guest cook idea, and think this could be a great way to see local chefs stretch in a way that they couldn’t do in a normal restaurant.  The dishes were reflective of the experience as a whole: purposefully relaxed, but with hints of extravagance just below the surface. I’m excited to see how this project continues to evolve. 

Eli thinks we should volunteer to do a brisket Jew-food dinner. 

Tags: mission, mission street food

This entry was posted on Friday, November 7th, 2008 at 5:22 pm and is filed under Reviews. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.