Momofuku Ssam Bar

"ARE YOU ALIVE?????? WHEN CAN WE GET DINNER?!?!??" asked FunStar.

She's always so dramatic. She produces a cable news show and they type the rundown in all caps and I think she forgets to turn off her work type from time to time. I still love her.

FunStar sent me a few of these e-mails starting back in November and it took us until the first week in January to get together. She always has a wish list of places to try -- a few years back she had an Excel spreadsheet -- so I asked her to e-mail me the ones at the top of this list. Excel or no excel, when I saw Momofuku Ssam Bar on the list, I got fired up.

Johnny Depp is to the Academy Award as I formerly was to David Chang's restaurants.

(If you don't know Chang, please read this article before you proceed. You will not regret it. I wish Larissa MacFarquhar did profiles on all of New York City chefs. I've had a crush on the guy ever since.)

Momofuku restaurants have been eluding me for years. Much like Babbo once was to me, the restaurants in the Momofuku family had an unattainable quality to them. I would hear someone asking if I'd tried Momofuku Ko, if I liked Momofuku Noodle Bar, if I wanted to go to Ssam Bar and I'd throw my head back, roll my eyes and give them a loud "Pfffhhaa! Good luck." I am the first to admit that if a restaurant is notoriously hard to get into I will avoid it at all costs, or wait around until it's uncool to try it. Sadly, neither Momofuku Ssam Bar nor any of its sister restaurants are getting any uncooler so FunStar gave me the kick in the pants I needed to swallow my ferocious pride and give it a whirl.

There was one slight problem. Over the past four months I've been eating strictly vegetarian. I feared eating at one of Chang's spots would be a total disaster.

I even asked my Twitter followers and @eaterny if there was a point in me trying Momofuku Ssam Bar. The responses were mixed.

One person wrote: don't go to momo if you're a vegetarian there are better choices.

Another wrote: pork buns and spicy rice cakes...and compost cookies. Drool.

While a third wrote: There are fish options and a veg or 3.

I consulted the menu and it looked doable. We would dine at Momofuku Ssam Bar despite FunStar being concerned about her having to eat all the meat dishes by herself. I told her she'd live.

I showed up at 8:25-ish. The place was a zoo, yet the hostess came and found me like a magnet. When I told her I was waiting for my friend running late from work, she pointed me in the direction of the Milk Bar and said she'd come in to check on me to see if my second party had arrived. I couldn't get over how friendly she was.

I was surprised by the simplicity of the decor in Ssam Bar. The tables were like picnic benches with an Asian flare. The chairs were backless. Folks at tables were to the right side (and there weren't a lot of them) and to the other side was the bar. It seemed like some of the tables were communal. Both the bar and table areas took up an equal amount of space in the dining room. The decor wasn't the hype here, or the coziness. The food was. Backless chairs don't lend well to settling in and hanging around for hours. The horizontal wood paneling and table design reminded me of that of the Chelsea pizzeria Co.

I wasn't entirely sure what the hostess meant by the Milk Bar. I knew it was attached but visually I couldn't see what she meant. I just kept following the narrow space between the bar and the tables, saw the bright light of the open kitchen at the far end of the dining room and found another hallway. At the end of this hallway there were large groups of people standing in line for bakery items, ranging from cookies and cakes to ice cream and soft serve. I guess it doubled as the waiting room.

I plopped my pur-ggage on the table with a thud and made it clear I'd be staying for a while. I whipped out Julia Child's "My Life in France" and began to alternate between reading a few paragraphs and checking out the commotion around me.

I heard about four different accents in the span of 20 minutes: Bostonian, Australian, German and French. This place was no secret to foreigners. Everyone knew and idolized Chang. The four young 20-something dudes behind me were drooling over what pork plate they were going to get, how Chang's fried chicken was "bad ass," and how they wanted a compost cookie for later.

What the hell was a compost cookie?

I looked up and saw it had pretzels, potato chips, butterscotch, coffee, oats and chocolate and any other crumbs lying around the kitchen Chang and his chefs could find. This was right up my alley.

A petite blond college student in front of me was going on and on to her two friends about balancing studying with her long-distance boyfriend and how she was really more into hooking up locally with randoms than having a committed relationship with someone who was far away. Her boring "far away" man was in Boston. I was tempted to blurt out her ridiculous whining on Overheardinnewyork.com, but I decided to continue reading instead. Where was FunStar?

The hostess came to check on me at least one more time before FunStar arrived. I couldn't believe how incredible the service was. She could have just dumped me in the back and waited for me to come find her when FunStar got there but no. She kept her word and made sure I was still solo.

When FunStar did come she went and found our hostess. I almost told her not to worry she was looking out for us but I was getting pretty hungry at this point after all the compost talk so if FunStar could expedite the seat process I'd be thrilled.

"Mona!" She waved at me at the end of the hallway connecting the Milk Bar to Ssam.

"Really? Ready? Coming!" I shoved my book and gloves and hat and scarf in my pur-ggage and flew off to start our Ssam adventure.

We snagged a great front seat at the bar. This was perfect. We could look at the menu, ask questions and watch the bartenders at work -- one of my favorite things to do.

"So...I need an update. Like NOW!"

"OK, OK... Christmas was incredible. We had the best time," I replied.

"Can I get you guys a drink?" Asked a tall thin guy with a chunk of his blond hair spiked in the front and pointing off to the right like an arrow. He was wearing an interesting two-toned green T-shirt and when he stepped away it reminded me of the old hyper-color tees.

"Oh shoot. We haven't gotten that far yet," I responded.

"OK, let's choose our drinks and then you'll tell me what happened," said FunStar.

FunStar told me about a drink she'd had recently called a French 75. Her version was made of Champagne, gin (though some recipes call for cognac or brandy) and lemon juice. We asked the bartender if he could make one. There were cocktails with Champagne on the menu, but he had an idea they weren't supposed to use Champagne for cocktails they didn't have on the menu. It sounded strange to us, but he was very smiley and friendly so we didn't think twice about it. I asked him about the seasonal pickle brine martini with Plymouth gin. To this dirty martini nut it sounded delish. I chose the classic with gin and FunStar went with a vodka version.

"OK. Spill it!"

"So... we met at our friend's wedding --"

"Dude. I know that part. Fast forward to more recent," she ordered.

"Ha! OK, OK. I don't remember what you know and what you don't know. We've seen each other four times now. He came to New York once and I went to Los Angeles twice--"

"So you met him and you've seen him three times since and you're totally gonzo!?"

"I know, I know. It must sound totally insane. But I'm totally insane about him. If you asked me to describe my dream man physically and emotionally it would be him. I just feel so lucky!"

"I'm so happy for you!"

"Christmas was a total whirlwind. We went whale-watching with his parents. Our parents met at dinner. Everyone got along super well. I spent a week with the fam and then I flew down to L.A. to be with him for four days. It was so awesome."

"Wow," she responded.

"Do you guys have any questions about the menu?"

"Oh... we haven't even looked. Sorry..."

"Let's pick out food and we'll keep talking after," suggested FunStar.

"Done and done."

We looked at the menu and there were a bunch of items that jumped out at us.

We tried as much as we could between two girls, one being a vegetarian. As our first cocktails dried up, the bartender informed us he'd inquired about making the French 75 and that he could in fact use the champagne for items not on the drinks menu. It was very sweet of him to pursue this further, because we had certainly forgotten, so we ordered up a round of French 75s and kept ogling at the menu.

We copied our neighbors and tried the cured hamachi with edamame, horseradish and pea leaves. The horseradish was charred black and I could have eaten the crumbles by the pint. The hamachi was light and fresh with an edamame sauce. The horseradish saved this dish from being bland.

Next we tried the cracked Jonah crab claws with harissa mayo. Like I mentioned below at Choptank, crab claws don't really do it for me. I tried to suck all the meat and juice out of the smallest claw and it was a lot of work for not a lot of substance. Next time I eat a crab it'll be a full sucker. FunStar wasn't impressed either.

FunStar tried the steamed pork buns with hoisin, cucumbers and scallions. Ever since eating at Kuma Inn I've loved the white gooey, almost marshmallow-like bun with pork belly. I kept to my vegetarian ways and just tried a sliver of the foamy bread and wished I could have had a plain side of the bun. I bet if I'd asked I could have. Rats.

We finished up with the bread and butter plate with two types of butter: sea salt from Vermont and whipped lardo. The bread was disappointing. It was thick and heavy on the tough crust with too little soft on the inside. Maybe Chang should outsource the one thing he's not an expert in -- French bread (sorry FCI). S'il est deja en train de faire ceci, je suis tres desole. The butter, however, was ridiculous, especially the lardo. It was so rich it could have been cheese. I almost wanted to eat it plain with a spoon. I knew it would give me a heart attack so I refrained, but man. Who knew butter could be so flavorful? Chang. That's who.

Last and definitely not least, we tried the fried brussels sprouts with mint and a fish sauce vinaigrette.

With all the hype surrounding Momofuku we hadn't been all that moved by the food... until the brussels sprouts. I don't care if you've never liked or tried a brussels sprout in your life, this is one of New York's finest dishes. No joke. I couldn't figure out if I wanted to just inhale them or eat them slowly so they'd last longer. A couple sitting next to us asked what they should get and besides the pork belly and the hamachi I yelled with brussels sprouts hanging out of my mouth, "THUH BRUHTHULL THPROUTHS!"

"So? Tell me more about MaineMan!!?"

Throughout dinner it was a battle to consume what was in front of us and each other's lives over the past six months.

"So... what is it about him, Mona?"

I think I have a face now whenever someone mentions him. It's called MaineMan face and I get called out on it constantly. I light up like the tree and ice skating rink at Rockefeller Center.

"I always told my mom I needed to find myself a mountain man, a manly man, someone who was tough as nails on the outside, but a soft, sensitive guy on the inside. MaineMan is that guy."

"I love it!"

"I don't know. I'll always be an athlete at heart. And I've always needed someone equally as tough as me, both emotionally and physically, and I always found it hard to be attracted to someone who wasn't. This probably sounds ridiculous..."

"NO! Go on."

"I couldn't date a wuss or a whiner. I've never met someone tougher, more active and more ready for an adventure than he is. I asked him if he wanted to do a marathon and he said, 'Yeah, sure!' without a second thought. Are you kidding me!?"

"I know exactly what you mean. We're both tough cookies. I needed that too," she added.

It was a huge relief that what I was saying wasn't gibberish.

"Right?! Yet, at the same time, he's a complete love... a total softie. So anyway...he's amazing and there isn't a second of any day where I don't doubt or question what he's thinking or feeling. Because he tells me all the time. It's never a mystery. And he lives across the country! I dated someone who I practically lived with who never said the sweet things MaineMan says to me. I really can't..."

"Mona!"

"... believe how lucky I am to have found..."

"Mona!"

"...him. I just feel so..."

"Mona!"

"Oh god, sorry. What?"

"You're totally glowing. It's so great. GLOW-ING! I'm sooooo soooo happy for you."

"Aww, thanks FunStar! It's just crazy. And I totally get it now."

We wrapped up dinner, thanked our bartender profusely for taking such good care of us and headed to the Milk Bar for some dessert.

FunStar had tried the cookies before and kept saying "blueberry blueberry blueberry" in my ear. I barely like fruit as it is so the thought of eating blueberries in a cookie just sounded borderline revolting. MaineMan teases me for being the only vegetarian he knows who doesn't like vegetables and fruit.

After staring at the blackboard for a good solid five minutes and not really registering what was happening I gave in. We went with the blueberry and cream cookie and the compost cookie.

These are the only two cookies you're allowed to try if you go to Chang's Milk Bar. They were soft, gooey, chewy and I wanted to wrap myself in them. Just how a cookie ought to be.

"We’re not the best cooks," Chang once told The New Yorker back in March 2008. "We’re not the best restaurant -- if you were a really good cook you wouldn’t be working here, because really good cooks are a**holes. But we’re gonna try our best, and that’s as a team."

Chang is no bulls*** artist. And his food is no bulls*** either. I don't know if I'll ever be ready to fight the minions to get into Momofuku Ko, but I am psyched to know I can count on a bar stool at Ssam for brussels sprouts, lardo, a strong cocktail, great service and a warm compost cookie for dessert. Drool indeed.

207 2 Avenue, at 13th St.
212) 254-3500