David Chang is kind of a big deal. His food ticks the box of every trend (often because he’s the reason it’s trending) but does so with equal measures of hip hop gung hoe and fine-dining finesse.
Being a not particularly religious man (sorry, Grandma), it was surprising to find myself transfixed by an other-worldly, crescendo-ing internal force to undertake a haj to Momofuku Mecca. This is the place where Chang’s dynasty was carved out of the bedrock of Manhattan’s East Village and where he continues to bless his pilgrims with heavenly mana (read: pork buns): the 50-pewed church that is Momofuku Noodle Bar.
The divinity of the Momofuku pork buns is well documented here, here, and of course here, here and here. So I won’t risk plagiarising my contemporaries with pornographic visuals of porky perfection. I barely need to mention that the two half-inch-thick pork belly slabs are so tender that we, the unwashed, struggle to discern where the meat stops, the fat ends and the steamed buns begin. Afterwards, the grease on your hands is dessert. The pickles, hoisin and squeezie bottles of sriracha are all profit. These bad boys are so good that they deserve mixed metaphors. They deserve to have started a city-consuming trend. They deserve to start wars.
I want to make it quite clear that these fist-sized buns suffer inverse diseconomies of scale. Allow me to explain. We Sydney-siders, unworthy as we are, were blessed by our deity with the first Momofuku outside of North America, Momofuku Seibo, in the Star. At Seibo, Chang does a 12-course deg during which he serves a scaled-down, two-bite-sized version of the original bun. This little cousin, while excellent and worth gushing about, does not fairly depict the genius of that which came before. In other words, making it smaller, made it worse. Only when faced with the real thing can an acolyte truly understand the vision of The Creator.
But the fun doesn’t stop at the bun. Chang’s ramen is demonstrative of his respect of tradition and steady hand in execution. The noodles are chewy, the broth has depth without being viscous and the poached egg makes everything in the world okay. Kimchi comes in a Mason jar for four bucks and is the best bar snack imaginable. Rosemary-flavoured soft served ice cream takes a while to get used to but ultimately refreshes both mouth and soul!
Chang does other things at Noodle Bar that convert non-believers just as effectively, but for me, the ramen and buns are the mainstay. Chang is a visionary who has made hour-and-a-half-long queues of people not bat an eye-lid when they’re asked to wait a little longer. It’s because he makes better food than anyone else.
I’m a fan boy, I just wanted you to know.
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