I recently spent a weekend in New York City, my first time visiting the City That Never Sleeps. One of the things that I vowed to do when I finally visited NYC was to eat at a Momofuku restaurant. Over the last couple of years, I have read a fair bit about restaurateur David Chang and have concluded that he is a true badass. I really like people who are passionate about what they do, don't compromise or cave to critics, and who swear a lot. I think that if you are successful and swear a lot, then you have achieved some sort of superior being status that the rest of us can only hope to attain. Anyway, I like Mr. Chang's attitude toward food, business, and the public at large, so I wanted to support his endeavors and sample his offerings.
I settled on Momofuku Noodle Bar, as it is the most approachable (read: cheapest) of the Momofuku restaurants. I actually ended up eating here twice over a weekend. Once, as a planned lunch, and again as a drunken stumble-upon at 1AM. I almost pissed myself with glee when we found a still-open Momofuku Noodle Bar serving food at 1AM. Over the course of two visits I ordered a bunch of food that I have never eaten before (but desperately wanted to try) and it was all perfect. And that is the fundamental reason of why I thought I ate the best food of my life at Momofuku Noodle Bar: I wanted to eat the best food of my life at Momofuku Noodle Bar. This was some pinnacle of dining that I had built up in my mind and so desperately wanted it to deliver. It was supposed to be cool because it was in New York. It was supposed to be significant because it was the restaurant of some "celebrity" chef who I deemed to be a badass. It was supposed to be foodie-phenomenal because it served a lot of pork and other things you can't buy at a grocery store. It was supposed to be significant because it was so simple. And it was all of those things. Granted I had no basis for comparison, but I firmly believe that taste buds and experience do not lie. I wanted Momofuku to be the best food of my life, and when it was actually mind-blowingly good and when I felt joy being in the restaurant, I had affirmation that it was the best food I had ever eaten. Confirmation of expectation and delivery on excitement is one of the best feelings a human can have.
Anyway, I ate a lot over the course of my two visits, but the coup d' grace were the pork buns (see photo above). I can't accurately describe these because I'm a nascent foodie, but the bun melted in my mouth like cotton candy does, and the pork belly melted in my mouth like heat applied to butter. I concluded that food which melts but is not normally supposed to is wonderful. I had read a lot about these pork buns. Every article on Momofuku mentions them. They are the proverbial shit. I should mention that I also believe when something is universally acclaimed and still delivers with full-forced awesomeness, then that thing is truly great. Normally I hate things that are universally acclaimed just out of principle, but I still try them. I was ecstatic to find that these pork buns were as good as described by the thousands of people before me. My experience had actually exceeded my severely inflated expectations.
The combination of my experience exceeding my expectation and the fact that the food was truly amazing makes Momofuku the best restaurant I have ever been to and my pork bun the best food I have ever consumed. If you are even remotely intrigued to eat a pork bun after this writing, then I have done my job. Perhaps your experience will surpass your expectations and excitement as well.
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