Mecha Noodle Bar

Mecca Noodle Bar is Asian comfort food. This is a restaurant that knocks that phrase right out of the park. With everything from Vietnamese pho to Japanese ramen, they’ve got every kind of noodle soup you could hope for. But don’t call them “fusion.” They get a little cranky about that.

I usually get the chicken paitan with wood ear mushroom and chili oil. I get it every time—I just can’t help myself. It’s downright crave-able. A chicken stock base is filled with vermicelli noodles, sliced red onion, and a little cilantro. Nori, three or four slices of breast meat, and half a soft-boiled egg round out the toppings. Add a few bean sprouts and you got yourself a party in a bowl.

The soup is awesome, but that’s not even the best part. It’s all about the apps, baby. With three different locations in Fairfield, South Norwalk, and New Haven, this little shop boasts some of the most flavorful food you could imagine.

Let’s just talk about the roasted mushroom dumplings. Piping hot, they come four to a plate littered with arugula. It’s just the crisp, green foil to the dumpling’s heat. Yet, the flavor profile works. The brown butter miso sauce delicately clings to flash-fried dough. If I could bathe in this sauce, I would. Inside, a wondrous concert of pureed mushroom.

Want to try a few egg rolls? These little pork-stuffed darlings are accompanied by a shredded carrot vinaigrette—or nuoc mam, one of many Vietnamese condiments—green leaf lettuce and mint. Mint is an underappreciated herb, in my opinion. Too often relegated to a drink or jauntily placed atop a tiny dessert, mint packs a power punch that when used properly makes a statement. That is exactly what happens here. The trick is to wrap the egg roll in the lettuce with the mint and dip it in the vinaigrette. So many flavors, so little time.

The baos are utterly delicious. Trite description? Perhaps. But, accurate? You bet. Fluffy pale pillows of steamed bread close around a filling of seared pork belly. Pure yum. If pork is not your thing, they’ve got short ribs and shrimp as alternate options. Typically a Taiwanese street food, these little guys fly off the shelf.

Another little surprise in their app department is the herbed edamame. I love steamed soybeans with flakes of sea salt. Could eat them all day. But this dish is a twist on the classic. With a garlic confit, sea salt, rosemary and sage, it’s a real treat. The herbs are flash fried to add a lovely crispiness. The dish just elevates what has become a ubiquitous hors d’oeuvres in Asian restaurants.

While I typically roll out of there feeling like I’ve just experienced a Thanksgiving dinner, they offer “kae dama.” Should you dare the Japanese tradition, you can ask for a refill of noodles. Some have mastered the kae dama requesting it several times. Sadly, I’m a one-bowl kinda girl. 

The only other thing to add to this lovely Asian experience is their desire for sourcing locally. They get produce whenever possible from nearby farms like Ox Hollow Farm in Roxbury and the beer on tap is often Two Roads Brewing Company in Stratford. They’ve got a fun cocktail called the Moonshine Bomb. With a Two Roads IPA in one hand and a shot of Onyx, Connecticut’s only moonshine, in the other, you drop the shot in the beer and suck it down. Oddly enough, it’s pretty tasty. Plus, it’s super fun while you’re waiting for a table, which is pretty often. It’s usually packed any time of day. That’s what you have to expect when a place serves food that good.

A Little Rosé Never Hurt…

Last night, I had a lovely blush wine, a Gerard Bertrand Cote des Rose rosé. The bottle was contoured with a rose pattern on the base and came with a glass stopper instead of a cork. Apparently, a student at Ecole Boulle in Paris designed it.

I’m typically weary of things that come in flashy packages. It usually means they’re trying to make up for something that’s not inside. This time, however, it was a nice surprise.

Grown in the Languedoc region, the climate is warm and windy. The soil consistency is primarily limestone but otherwise generally rocky. The wine has been described as fresh and full with notes of “candy.” Had I read this description first, I might have put the bottle back. I’m not fond of any wine equated with something that sweet. But my experience with this pink juice was a little different.

There was a light strawberry nose—and that’s all I got out of it because basically my nose sucks. Other people who judge wines come up with things like, “notes of leather and chocolate with a pungent awareness of its surroundings.” I get, “It smells like wine.”

The taste was light and fresh with more strawberry. I also got a mid-palate strike of rose petals and pear. Beyond that, it was just a lovely, bright wine I would serve any time. I might pair it with shrimp or chicken and even some gooey cheeses. Fresh fruits, not dried, would be better: berries, apples, and even slices of kiwi.

Rosé has become a thing—like when Sex & The City made cosmos popular. But it is often regarded as a “summer” wine. That’s too bad, because you should be able to enjoy it at any time of the year. But a quick check of your local wine shop and you’ll see them disappear after Labor Day weekend quicker than a one-night stand.

When it comes to rosés, don’t forget about the bubbly. Sparkling rosé is pretty festive. One of my favorites is H. Billiot Fils Grand Cru. Salmon colored with fruity brightness and a touch of salinity, it goes down smooth. This is one I would serve as an aperitif, with a meal, or for any celebration.

So the next time you’re choosing a wine for dinner, try a rosé. But don’t forget about it just because it’s a little chilly outside.

A Fresh Bowl of Pasta

There is just nothing better, tastier, or simpler than whipping up some pasta and tomato sauce. It irks me to see bottled sauce lining the shelves at the grocery store when making your own is so easy. Got a can of crushed tomatoes, good olive oil, basil, garlic, and some salt and pepper? Great, you got yourself a fine Marinara. Whiz it in the food processor, heat it up, and you’re done.

What’s great about a tomato sauce is it’s a foundation. Start with those ingredients, but pitch in a teaspoon of crushed red pepper flakes. Or, add other herbs like oregano and thyme. Parsley is good, too. Throw in some anchovies, capers, and olives and call it a Puttanesca. Put in some truffle oil with that and it’s known as Umbria. Ground meat in tomato sauce makes it Bolognese. Bacon, onion, and Pecorino elevates the dish to the well-loved Amatriciana.

Pasta dough has always eluded me, though. While I’ve made it successfully a number of times, I frequently get a knot in my stomach that *this* is the time I will completely screw it up. Because I have. Too sticky. Too dry. Too loose. But when it works, it really works.

There has long been a debate as to whether pasta was first invented by the Italians or the Chinese. While there are documented references to Marco Polo bringing noodles back from his trips to the Far East, there are also a numerous references to a type of pasta (“lagana,” thought to be the original lasagna) in the Roman Empire before Christ.

Isn’t it possible that separate cultures made the same thing at the same time because it was easy to make with simple ingredients? At least, that’s the version I’d prefer.

Mangia!