886 (“Taiwan’s International Calling Code”)
East Village, St. Marks and 1st Avenue
I live close to St. Marks and have passed 886 dozens and dozens of times. I finally visited a month or so ago during a weeklong staycation.
First, can we talk about this drink menu? Beautifully designed…
“The BAD Idea Challenge”… 2 people, 2 straws, 6 seconds!? Even at noon, beseeched with a headache from the night before, I was tempted to give it a go. Unfortunately (fortunately?) my dining partner was less enthusiastic; I wasn’t going to try “single player mode.” I asked our waiter the % of diners who succeed; he wasn’t sure, though winners get their pictures posted on the wall, a sort of hall-of-fame of bad-idea-turned-good-idea victors. One random pedestrian insisted he had completed the challenge: “it was easy.”
I resigned myself to a beer. As far as light beers go, the Gold Medal was solid. Apparently the bottles have been out-of-stock since the summer, a testament to the trickiness of international supply chains during a pandemic.
For food, we ordered 4 items. For 2 people, this no doubt bordered on gluttony, but I was not disappointed.
First, The Notorious T.F.C (spicy fried chicken sandwich). Amazingly named and an absolute behemoth in size. A sandwich so B.I.G. and Juicy, I’m glad it wasn’t all a dream. (That’s 3 Biggie puns in one sentence.) The size of my widest outstretched hand and then some. Even cut in half, it was the size of a large sandwich. Savory and tangy. One of the best sandwiches I’ve ever had. The Earl of Sandwich would be proud.
Second, we got Scallion Pancake Beef Wrap. Flakey and filled with umami goodness. The “sze daddy” mayo was a great topping. It’s presumably made from their “sze daddy” chili sauce, which they sell separately, and is good enough to have its own instagram page (@szedaddy). Another day.
Third, (fittingly) we opted for the three cup chicken, which, at least according so various cooking and travel shows I’ve watched (and confirmed by one of my Taiwanese friends), is one of the more conical Taiwanese dishes. It takes its name from the inclusion of three cups: (sesame) oil, soy sauce, and rice wine. Aromatic, spicy, with a hint of basil. I loved it. It helps that all the chicken is bone-in, which, for me, activates some primal caveman synapses, traditionally responsible for meat-eating and, in a more modern setting, likely yelling at people in traffic.
As the main character in the 2003 movie Big Fish said: “There comes a point when any reasonable man will swallow his pride and admit he made a mistake. The truth is… I was never a reasonable man.” Indeed, at this point, a normal person might call it quits (and get the final course to-go).
Yet, we beat on, boats against the current. We were rewarded for our persistence with Lo Ba Beng: braised pork belly over rice, pickled mustard greens, peanut butter, and a soft-boiled egg. Creamy, sweet, and savory.
Needless to say, I hibernated in a food coma the rest of the day.
The experience was so nice, I’ve been twice (about a month later on a much colder day). I’d also recommend the beef noodle soup (pictured here steaming hot). The honey glazed popcorn chicken was good too (though I still preferred the chicken sandwich).
I’ll close by noting that the bathroom has a hilarious neon light that simply reads “lit.” 886, lit indeed.
