Hotteok and Bungeoppang

Hotteok and Bungeoppang
"Ho Duck" stall, $1 each

Look to the left as you enter the Boo Han Korean Market in Edmonds and you'll get one of the best deals in town on dinner and a show--assuming you can justify having waffles or pancakes for dinner. 

While you wait and watch, the cook in the "Ho Duck" stall crafts two of Korea's best-loved street-style sweets.  The eponymous hotteok (above) are crusty, golden pancakes of yeasted wheat and rice flours, filled with caramelized sugar and nuts.  It's a simple enough operation but made mesmerizing by the cook's practiced moves and enviable patience.  

 

The hotteok start out as a ball of sticky, bubbly dough.  The cook kneads it a little, then fills a dent in the center with a a mixture of brown sugar and crushed nuts.  He pinches the dough closed to seal in the filling, then uses a special metal tool to flatten the ball on a well-oiled griddle.  

 

Once the hotteok are underway, it's time to get going on the bungeoppang.  "Fish bread" is really more of a fish-shaped waffle, cooked a whole school at a time in fancy high-volume griddle.  To get exactly the right amount of batter, the cook spoons a little into each fish-shaped void, then tops it up with a seam applied with a squeeze bottle. 

On top of each batter cloud goes a dollop of sweetened red bean paste.   

 

Then the lid is closed up to seal the waffle around the filling.  As soon as the cook deems them ready, he uses a small metal hook to flicks them out of the iron and into a waiting box; it's not at all unusual to order six or a dozen at a time.  

Boo Han Korean Market 
22618 Hwy 99
Edmonds, WA
425/778-7400

Norwegian Heritage Day

Rømmegrøt
Leif Erikson Hall, $4

Although the programming at the annual Norwegian Heritage Day at Seattle's Leif Erikson Hall focused on parades, prizes, dances, and speeches, it was sometimes be hard to hear what was happening over the sounds of crispbreads being crunched, lutefisk being sampled, and spoons scraping the bottom of bowls. 

Visitors to the upstairs lunch buffet could cap off a light meal of soup and open-faced sandwiches with one of the most stupefying desserts ever created.  Rømmegrøt is literally "sour cream porridge," a soup of sour cream, whole milk, and butter thickened with flour, seasoned with salt, and dressed for the table with melted butter, sugar, and cinnamon.  It's an historic and traditional Norwegian dish, eat both as a meal in itself, and as a special occasion dessert.  

I could barely keep my eyes open after finishing my bowl, an one woman I spoke with suggested that might have been part of the point.  During Norway's short but glorious summers it was common practice to send young people out to country to keep an eye on the grazing herds.  Back in their camps for the evening, a bowl of sleep-inducing rømmegrøt served as dessert might have helped to discourage the young people from engaging in any late-night hanky panky. 


















At the Kaffestua downstairs, a busy team of volunteers offered made-to-order Norwegian treats.  Lacy krumkake wafers ($.50/each) were cooked in a special iron, then wrapped around conical wooden forms while still warm and pliable. 

Another specialty iron produced Norwegian waffles ($.50/section or $2/whole) with a distinctive heart shape.  

Over at the lefse station, rounds of dough were rolled out paper-thin, griddled until puffy and covered in brown patches, then covered in butter, sugar, and cinnamon and rolled into tubes for convenient snacking.  

The volunteer pictured made it look so easy that I imagined she must have been making lefse since infancy--but not so.  She explained that rolling out the dough was considered by her family to be such an important task, it was only entrusted to the most mature and responsible women.  Her own grandmother refused to teach her the secrets of the rolling pin until she was married with children of her own. 

Tet Treats

Banh Kep La Dua (above)
Hue Ky Mi Gia, $1.50

Che Ba Mau (below)
Hue Ky Mi Gia, $3.00

Originally opened in Saigon in 1959, the Hue Ky Mi Gia noodle restaurant now has a massive menu and two Seattle-area locations--but only at a temporary stall at Seattle Center's Tet Festival does Hue Ky Mi Gia dish up these New Year's delicacies.   Banh kep la dua is special waffle that gets its color and aroma from the leaves of the screwpine or pandan plant.  Che ba mau is a drinkable dessert:  iced coconut milk with brown sugar syrup, red beans, and chewy green noodles made from rice flour and--again--that addictive pandan extract. 

Gjetost

Gjetost and Waffle

Scandinavian Specialties, $0.75

Known in its native Norway as brunost (literally, "brown cheese") and in the US as gjetost (just say,"Yay, toast!") this cheese-like substance has more than enough personality to merit two names. Goat milk, cream, and whey are boiled down until the dairy sugars caramelize, giving gjetost a rubbery consistency, golden color, and trademark flavor. Eating gjetost is one of those call-and-response experiences in which two tastes engage in debate inside your mouth; in this case the goat milk's pungent tang adds some edge to the toe-curling sweetness of the browned sugars, while the caramel, in turn, rounds out the goat's sharp funk.

At Scandinavian Specialities, small slices of gjetost are served on top of tiny waffles.

Scandinavian Specialties
6719 15th Ave NW
Seattle WA
206/784-7020

Liège Waffle

Classic Liège Waffle,

Sweet Iron, $2.99

Although I must have bused past the Sweet Iron waffle shop in downtown Seattle several dozen times since it opened, I've never previously given it more than a longing glance. Because of its skyscraper location and slick branding I jumped to the conclusion that Sweet Iron would be a Starbucks satellite, stamping out standardized but soulless waffles the same improbably golden brown as a Seattlite's winter tan.

Turns out that I couldn't have been more wrong.

Today when I passed Sweet Iron and saw a banner in the window proclaiming "International Waffle Day" I made a point of interrupting my return trip to investigate. Despite its high-end graphics and decor, Sweet Iron is the lone outpost of a young, locally-owned small business that promotes social responsibility, environmental sustainability, and artisanal--if delightfully irregular--baked-to-order waffles.

The waffles are Liège-style; unlike batter-based Belgian waffles, these start out as a blob of buttery brioche dough kneaded fresh each morning. Pearl sugar lurking within the dough turns to pockets and patches of gooey-glassy caramel when pressed in the waffle iron. You can can further gild the lily with powdered sugar, chocolate, or whipped cream and strawberries with balsamic vinegar. Sweet Iron also offers savory versions, like Brie and basil, and seasonal specials; I had a mindblowing springtime sample topped with housemade lemon curd and fresh blueberries.

Sweet Iron
1200 3rd Ave
Seattle, WA
206/682-3336

Wafels and Dinges

Liege Wafel
Wafels and Dinges, $4

When I first heard about a truck that roams New York dispensing fresh Belgian wafels, my stomach began to flutter with both hunger and nerves. The wafels sounded great but I was afraid that I'd have trouble finding such a small moving target during my limited time in the city.

It turns out that while the owners of Wafels and Dinges embrace the serendipity that causes some customers to cross their path, they also recognize that other people need a wafel RIGHT NOW. W&D's charming website and blog detail the truck's regular weekly route, and both a hotline and a Twitter feed offer more up-to-the-minute information. In keeping with W&D's role as spokesnack for a country most of us know next to nothing about, the website also spreads the word about Belgian-related happenings and community events. A daily password grants wafel buyers one free dinge (topping) from a long list that includes fruit, nuts, and dulce de leche. Every week one lucky wafel fan (known as wafelettes or wafeloons) is awarded a free WMD ("wafel of massive deliciousness") piled high with the dinges of his or her dreams.

Sadly, the aging wafel truck conked out during my trip and my visions of chasing it into the setting sun were replaced by an anticlimatic visit to Chelsea, where it sits on a side street, tethered to a generator. I decided on a dinge-less Liege wafel. Also known as "the other Belgian wafel", the Liege is not as geometric, crispy, or famous as its cousin; as W&D's menu explains, the Liege is the wafel Belgians kept to themselves.

For a moment I regretted my decision, as the friendly staffer flipped a pale, misshapen, and soggy mass out onto the counter. It turns out that unlike the batter-based Belgian wafel, the Liege is made from dough, liberally seeded with pearl sugar. When an order comes in a par-baked wafel is slapped back onto the griddle where the dough crisps up; the sugar inside melts into tiny pockets of nectar while the surface sugar caramelizes into a crispy, crackly, golden crust. It was hot, chewy, sticky--perfect street food for a bright, crisp, winter day.