Side Hustles
When the show is nothing without the supporting cast
This week we embark on a slew of side quests. We also welcome Guest Gulletier Gleetz to the table.
Right This Hwae
By Gleetz1
Japanese sushi has a grip on America, but I don’t want the general population to learn about Korean sushi—or, as we call it, hwae. Hwae translates to raw fish, and it’s everything sushi is not—playful, extravagant, and abundant.
My family’s go-to hwae jip is called DokDohYah off of Northern Boulevard in Flushing. It’s brightly lit with strong overhead lamps, blue Christmas lights, and a faux, light-up cherry blossom tree looming over the table near the window. The soju fridge is next to a big old fish tank packed with brown fluke, and the glossy wooden tables reflect the scintillating luminescence of the restaurant's interior. Here, you can order one platter of hwae—small, medium, or large. A medium is enough to feed our family of four because the best part of Korean hwae jips is not the luscious platter of raw fish but the landslide of “complimentary” dishes that come with it.
First comes the fragrant bowl of abalone rice porridge with sesame seed oil, then a classic spicy tuna roll and salmon chobaps (nigiri) for the table. Next, a parade of grilled mushrooms, steamed egg, raw octopus salad, soy marinated shrimp, radish/bean sprout soup, spicy noodles, pork katsu, shrimp tempura, seafood pancakes, etc., etc. My favorite complimentary dish is a plate of sliced raw abalone, sea cucumber, and other very briny, very seafood-y creatures that I honestly don’t know the names of but happily eat anyway. Then comes that beautiful platter of salmon, yellow tail, flounder, tuna, and amberjack hwae. The fireworks finale of the meal is an incredibly refreshing maeuntang (spicy seafood stew) made with fish heads, probably from those brown flukes in the tanks up front.
With all this focus on k-bbq and kimchi stews, I sometimes forget that Korea is a literal peninsula. It’s a country surrounded mainly by water, so seafood plays a big, fat part of our cuisine. I’m mourning the day these playful, extravagant, abundant hwae platters get “discovered” and become a sad, watered-down, marked-up version of the feast I enjoy today.
For now, I'll savor this hidden gem, and when it does break through, tell them Gleetz told you so.
The Verdict: Eat before it mainstreams!
Name Drops: DokDohYah
The Accoutrement Tango
By Kitty
My dad and Eileen took Nick and me to the Capital Grille for a belated birthday dinner. A restaurant outside of my comfort zone mostly due to its C-Suite clientele. I’m not well versed in cuts or dry rubs, and since Nick and I are the type of people who are so tense our shoulders stay connected to our ears, we studied the menu ahead of time in order to feel completely prepared.
Upon arrival, my dad explained that this wasn't his first rodeo and that we were to request a platter of calamari with our drink orders. Eileen reminded my dad to just lean into the dining experience. To this notion, I replied firmly that I would be taking a look at the dessert menu.
Since I’m not that big on beef, my steak would come secondary to the sides. What would pair best with the accompaniments that I had on my agenda? Crispy brussels sprouts topped with bacon and soy glaze, lemony grilled asparagus, and red bliss mashed potatoes provided an ideal framework for a coffee-crusted New York strip finished with shallot butter. Speaking of alliums, the complimentary bread basket that appeared on the table contained a caramelized onion focaccia that I knew would give me “worth it heartburn.”
The service was also of note. My dad ordered a steak that was supposed to come topped with a fig jam that he didn't want, and as such, fig puns were volleyed back and forth between he and our server. They ultimately "fig-ured" out; they'd sub in a horseradish sauce. The best part? I didn't even have to ask for the dessert menu, as they automatically brought over a celebratory plate that contained a mini best of both worlds—cheesecake and flourless chocolate torte. The steak may have sizzled but the sides were what really made my wishes come true. Each one a little gift from Lady Delish2 herself. Happy birthday to me!
The Verdict: Sides are the new entree.
Name Drops: The Capital Grille
Bee-side Myself
By Greg
Breakfast by Salt’s Cure (take that Ruth's Chris) is a restaurant that has haunted my Instagram feed since early last summer. I’ve been served gorgeous shots of breakfast staples bathed in natural light with the captions touting an emphasis on “keeping things simple.” After a year of consuming their content I knew that the brand was built around their signature oatmeal griddle cake and I was going to have to see about that. After a weekend spent in the apartment, I needed a little pick me up and decided to walk my ass over there at 8 am on a Sunday morning. It was refreshing to know there was a restaurant in Brooklyn open early, serving actual breakfast3 AND cunt.
When I arrived, I decided that I was going to do things right and center the order with the griddle cake and round things out with a bunch of sides. I ordered a fat stack of blueberry griddle cakes, a hash brown block, chicken sausage, two fried eggs, and a side of avocado because I was feeling bitchy.
Each dish is served on its own plate, so when the food came, my table looked like it was ready for a hearty family feast. I may have arrived a party of one but was quickly joined by dozens of bees (I was eating outside since it was nice out, and the place was already packed). After spending five minutes shifting my side plates to two different tables and gently batting the bees with paper napkins, I gave in to the company. However, the abundance of plates provided ample opportunity for the colony to divide and conquer. I had no choice but to inhale my meal to prevent the hive from dancing in the powdered sugar or worming their way into the sausage.
Despite a true push down the gullet, the food was incredible and offered a full spectrum of breakfast flavors. Salt’s Cure doesn’t even dare to put syrup on their griddle cakes—sorry doll, when your claim is “simple,” condiments are not part of the fantasy. The cakes were a sweet revelation, and the hash brown honestly sent every other breakfast potato I’ve known to hell. Each side sang, no skips. I tried to savor the breakfast bounty, but the swarm had other plans. They were gaining territory faster than I could chew. I knew it was time to go when I spotted two drones cleaning egg yolk off of their hairy little legs. The intake of five dishes under fifteen minutes was not the bee’s knees, and resulted in dangerous bloat on the walk home. I had evaded being stung but still left swollen.
The Verdict: Leave it to a Los Angeles restaurant to cure New York.
Name Drops: Breakfast by Salt’s Cure
A special thank you to this week’s illustrator, ShinYeon Moon4! See her work here.
If you’d like to be a Guest Gulletier or illustrator, drop us a note at putitinthegullet@gmail.com
Gleetz 애영 is a content creator from NYC who makes Korean recipe videos for her online community. She shares her journey in exploring her Korean-American heritage through vivid, fast-paced and oftentimes silly recipe videos regarding identity, politics, and history in an easily digestible format.
Our goddess offers many blessings.
Is breakfast real? This year I’ve been mystified by how many people skip eating in the morning. The promise of breakfast is the only thing I know.
ShinYeon Moon is an illustrator based in Brooklyn. Moon holds an M.F.A. from the School of Visual Arts in Illustration as Visual Essay. She currently teaches at the School of Visual Arts and Fashion Institute of Technology. She has received accolades from different illustration publications including 3x3 Magazine, Society of Illustrators, and Communication Arts. Their second illustrated picture book will be out this June, titled Once Upon A Friend.