Antidote for a straight bar
This week, Five Things I Ate is shuffling between major metropolitan areas, and surviving the neck pain to write about it. If you’re new, check out past posts here, and make sure to follow my Instagram @fivethingsiate.
Bek-kopi (Penang white coffee) at Kopitiam
151 E Broadway, New York, NY 10002
Forgive me father, for I have sinned: This week I went to a straight bar in midtown and it was absolutely horrible. Going to a Very Heterosexual Bar in midtown is the equivalent of going to dim sum with a group of white people: It slowly dawns on you in horror that you’re expected to perform a role based solely on your appearances, and worst of all, you comply. To cleanse myself, I will now tell you about Kopitiam, a lovely haven of Malaysian food that’s owned by a queer woman of color. The Bek-kopi (Penang white coffee) is the stuff of Sunday dreams. Coffee beans are roasted in olive oil and mixed with sweetened condensed milk, then tossed into a frothy, creamy cup. For something made with condensed milk, it’s not too sweet (unlike the Teh Tarik, which was too cloying for me), and has a wonderful nutty taste. On the menu, it says that it has one-third the amount of caffeine in traditional coffee, although it still made me plenty jittery (I am not a daily coffee drinker). It’s the perfect soul-warming antidote to a loud bar.
Pulut Tai Tai (morning glory sticky rice with kaya jam) at Kopitiam
151 E Broadway, New York, NY 10002
If you’re a loyal reader of Five Things I Ate, you may have noticed that I have a certain fondness of food wrapped in leaves.The pulut tai tai (morning glory sticky rice) at Kopitiam is not only cute, portable, and wrapped in banana leaves, the sticky rice ball is dyed a beautiful shade of purpley-blue with morning glory flowers, which elevates it to the highest of all Magical Foods. Also, it’s served with a side of kaya, coconut jam that’s infused with pandan leaves which puts all other jams and curds to shame. 12/10 would eat for breakfast before the start of a magical adventure, and carry along two for the road.
Salted egg chicken wings at Kopitiam
151 E Broadway, New York, NY 10002
Fried chicken is delicious, chicken wings are delicious, and these fried chicken wings are the best of both worlds. The salted egg chicken wings at Kopitiam come nestled in a bowl, five to an order, or exactly 2.5 chickens’ worth, if you do the macabre math. These are minimalist chicken wings, no sauce or goopiness, just fried to a crisp and so light they shatter on bite. The “salted egg” part refers to the dipping paste that comes in a little plastic cup. I’m not sure what they put in that paste, but it’s addictingly salty and creamy and fatty.
Bourbon chicken at Kelly’s Cajun Grill in Union Station
50 Massachusetts Ave NE, Washington, DC 20002
When you enter Union Station in DC, you are faced with a choice: Will you dine upstairs, where you can enjoy high arched ceilings with a five-dollar glass of Blue Bottle cold brew and red wine with your ShackBurger®*, or will you descend into the underground food court, where a screaming fight might break out in the Dunkin’ Donuts line? I know exactly where I belong and am very confident in my identity as a Jersey girl, so I don’t hesitate to march myself to the food court where I order a giant scoop of “world famous” bourbon chicken with fried rice to-go at Kelly’s Cajun grill. I have a soft spot for mall food and every once in an Amtrak ride, this meal is perfect. It’s not Michelin-star dining but the portions are very large and will last you the train ride home and then some.
Fried plantains at Kelly’s Cajun Grill in Union Station
50 Massachusetts Ave NE, Washington, DC 20002
There isn’t much that’s discernibly Cajun about Kelly’s Cajun grill, which serves the usual Chinese takeout fare of orange chicken, fried rice, and eggrolls. But they do let you buy a side of three fried plantains for a dollar seventy-five with your meal. I absolutely adore fried sweet plantains. I almost never need to order them, because usually when I get them I’ve already ordered a heap ton of curry or jerk chicken or something similarly heavy, but I always do. The fried plantains at this takeout joint aren’t anything to write home about — they’re the quality you’d expect of an underground train station food court — but I love them just the same. Bring them into the business car of the Acela Express for some high-low fusion.
Photo of the week
My friend sent me this lovely (slightly triggering) message in response to last week’s newsletter. Actually, he sent it to me on two platforms because I’m bad at checking messages, but one of them contains typos so I’ve omitted it. As my self-esteem is at a local minimum, I will share it with you all, even though it is not food you made.
May your weekends be filled with friends and free of drunk bros,
Soph
*It is in fact copyrighted.