Hunger PANGs

It all started innocently enough: introducing a seemingly harmless Vietnamese-French sandwich to the people of New York. The banh mi was a new spin on a tired BLT or turkey and swiss on whole wheat, they said. Very quickly, people responded, with cheer and open mouths, to these savory Saigon imports, whose ingredients were new entrants to the sandwich circuit: daikon, pate, and spicy aioli. These sandwiches had been available in New York for decades. But suddenly, new shops popped up what seemed like every week; turf wars began (as is expected with food trends in New York); before you knew it, people were trading in a night of 7-course prix fixe fine dining for $7 sandwiches as the cool new thing to eat out. The nondescript banh mi transcended its meager origins as just a sandwich that Vietnamese people ate and infiltrated the foodie scene--in the East Village, in Williamsburg, in EVERYWHERE. It's reached unprecedented hype (for a sandwich). This was in early 2009.

And it hasn't stopped.

The banh mi bandwagon has been full speed ahead for quite sometime now. It has made its round on the media circuit--what with every newspaper and magazine responsible for publishing at least a couple articles or snippets dedicated to the banh mi craze. I mean, it really is crazy. But it's no surprise--they're texturally exciting and they're delicious--high quality, fresh, tasty, spicy, affordable, and just hearty enough to hit the spot without bowling you over.

But wait--there's more. The extended family has shown up.

Num Pang (21 E. 12 St) serves up what is essentially the Cambodian-American cousin of the banh mi.

Founded by Ratha Chau and Ben Daitz, old college friends who reconnected years after graduation in New York after discovering they were both working in the restaurant industry and in love with food, Num Pang (Khmer for "sandwich"), serves up sandwiches similar to the banh mi, in a tiny shop just around the corner from University Pl. on 12th street. The shop occupies quite a small street-level space (evidenced below - you order at the window and there's a sliver of a space just to the left where you pick up your order and/or drinks from the two refrigerators.) For those of you who would rather sit back, relax, and make a toast to this toasty take on a Saigon sub, there's a small dining area upstairs, accessed by a frighteningly narrow spiral staircase.

They have specials, like the five spiced pork belly with pickled rhubarb ($7.50), or the lemongrass chicken liver pate with grilled pickled scallions. ($7.25). But it's their six classic num pang that give me hunger pangs just thinking about them. A few include the pulled duroc pork with spiced honey ($7.50), coconut tiger shrimp with toasted coconut flakes ($7.50), and--my poison of choice--grilled skirt steak with peppercorn and crushed coriander ($8.75). All are served with cucumber, pickled carrots, cilantro, and chili mayo on a toasted semolina flour baguette from Nolita's Parisi Bakery.

They offer truly homemade juices, like watermelon and blood orange (the watermelon took me back to my days of excessive watermelon juice drinking while living in Indonesia). They also serve snow cones; but these aren't your run of the mill fruit flavors. How about lemongrass lime and lychee? Pineapple ginger anyone?

Their juices are liquid dreams, but it's their sandwiches that I crown Cambodia's new prime minister. What makes this skirt steak num pang so impressive is the textural roller coaster your mouth and taste buds go on. The textural contrasts provided by the different ingredients all stuffed together in a fluffy and crunch baguette (not baoguette)- each layer of ingredient adding a new taste and feel to the overall eating experience. The palpable pleasure ride from the crunchy, the crusty, the soft, the rough, the smooth, the meaty, the creamy, the toasted--this is why I love this sandwich. As I've mentioned before, to me, taste is only a partial factor; texture is another very important one. If I don't like the texture of something, even if I enjoy the taste, I'm likely not going to voluntarily eat it again. But this sandwich, oh this sandwich, it does wonders to your senses.

The initial hard crunch and fluffy texture from the bread and the contrasting smooth, creamy spiciness from the chili mayo is a great start. Next, you get the quick and cool snap and fresh crispness from the cucumber and pickled carrots. Cilantro always gives a dish that really pungent, earthy flavor, as it did in this sandwich. People either love or hate cilantro; I'm unhesitatingly on the love side.

Finally, the steak comes. They actually give you a good amount of steak for this sandwich--which I guess I was surprised about (and why this place is deserving of its accolades). It was grilled, and tender and slightly tough--but just tough enough that you could still pull the piece apart if it's too big. The final layer of this numbingly delicious num pang comes full circle with the bottom side of the crunchy baguette.

The taste of the juices from the steak combined with the creamy spicy mayo is incredible. But the hearty tenderness from the steak, the snappy cool cucumber and carrots, the subtle-in-texture but thick crunchy-softness from the baguette, and the soft and creamy but potently spicy mayo is divine.

It was surprisingly easy to eat. I experienced very minimal spillage (probably only from the juice from the steak). It is constructed to perfection; the bread cradles the ingredients with the care like that of a mother for her child. And the fillings are just enough to achieve beautiful balance with one another to make for a very balanced taste in each bite.

So move over, panino; you've got competition. A place this good will press you and your panino press right out of the haute sandwich category. With tastes this incredible and prices this affordable, frequent visits to Num Pang will leave you without pangs of guilt.

Be happy and Carpe Diem!