A few minutes and a splash of caramel sauce delivers a savory supper.

One of my favorite ripoffs of Vietnamese home cooking is a technique called kho. It’s comfort food, like an Irish lamb stew of a French coq au vin. In kho, proteins like chicken, tofu or catfish are stewed in a mixture of caramel sauce and fish sauce, with aromatics like ginger, scallions and shallots.

First, you need caramel sauce. Go here to learn how to make it. It can be a little touchy, but just remember that if you mess it up, you’re only out a cup of sugar. Once you get the hang of making caramel sauce, you’ll always have some in the cupboard - it keeps practically forever - and you’ll wonder how you ever managed without it.

This particular night I had chicken thighs in the fridge, and some scallions. I would have liked ginger, but was out and wanted to feed the kids.

So here’s what I did:

Salt and peppered the chicken thighs. Browned them in a bit of vegetable oil. You want a pot or pan big enough for the chicken thighs (or other protein) to fit in a single layer. Don’t crowd the pot and get the chicken nicely crusted, and it’ll dissolve in the broth, adding depth to the flavor.

Then it’s simmering time. Add the aromatics, like a tablespoon or two of chopped ginger, two or three sliced garlic cloves, half a cup of scallions chopped in inch pieces, a quarter-cup of sliced shallots. This time, I used scallion and a sliced onion.

Add 1/4 cup of caramel sauce and a 1/8 cup of fish sauce. Then add enough water to barely cover the proteins, cover, and simmer over medium heat. After about 30 minutes, or until the chicken pulls apart easily, it’s ready.

Serve over rice with a ladle of sauce. Marvel at the wonder of it all.

The pork dumplings were tender-skinned and flavored with chives.

Perhaps it is the lack of high-quality Chinese dining options in Western New York that makes the arguments over Chinese food so vehement. My homey favorite is a slop pit to you. What you hold forth as the best lo mein in these parts, I will castigate as oil-soaked spaghetti with canned vegetables.

What’s really fueling to the chopsticks-at-dawn bitterness isn’t the arguer, of course. It’s naked wok envy, the unrequited yearning for the Chinatowns of our dreams, where every undistinguished hole-in-the-wall seems to serve up char siu, soup dumplings and stir-fried greens that would best anything we can reach for lunch.

A couple of months ago, one of those arguments resulted in a lunch date at Ming Cafe (3268 Main St., 716-833-6988 ) for a foursome of Chinese food fans. We were there primarily to test the restaurant’s reputation for some of the best Chinese food in town, albeit at higher prices than the storefront chop suey counters.

We figured the best way to settle the dispute was around a table. In retrospect, this was a cheerfully ignorant idea.

No one complained about the scallions or the wontons, but it was downhill from there.

The controversy started with the first dish, a bowl of wonton soup. It was murky instead of clear, and along with three plump wontons, noodles reclined in the broth. Three of four eaters found it adequate. Matthew, the wonton soup nut, pronounced it “dreadful,” noting that the broth was thickened, possibly by the extra noodles.

Note the dried chile peppers peeking out at top, a sign of the heat to come.

The spicy salt crispy calamari was my idea, a dish I’d had before and prompted my desire to revisit Ming. While the crispiness and the spice level was there this time around, so was something else - a decided fishiness in some of the calamari bites. I ate my share, but Matthew denounced the dish’s “off taste.”

A beef noodle dish was decent but boring, leaving use fishing through the noodles looking for slices of beef.

Hot, crispy, salty - chicken done right.

The Szechuan chicken won plaudits all around. All that was left on that plate was the dried chiles.

A dish of mu shu chicken was declared Chinatown-competent, high praise indeed from these eaters.

But the real consensus favorite was the crispy tofu dish, mo po tofu. Slabs of pleasantly chewy tofu in a piquant sauce with lotus root and other vegetables, it was a surprise hit.

But the hits came at a price - $15 for the mu shu chicken, $13.50 for the tofu dish. Including a pot of tea, the lunch came to nearly $100, including tip.

Lauren noted that the flavor of scallions and ginger came through in the dishes, “fresher,” more flavorful specimens of familiar dishes. Doug enjoyed the mu shu he ordered, too.

In fact, everyone agreed we’d enjoyed some excellent dishes, though not everyone agreed on which dishes failed. One thing was unanimous: The price tag was enough to make us think twice about making Ming Cafe a habit.

Roll cubes of extra-firm tofu in corn starch, fry them in a little vegetable oil, and you can swap out the chicken breast in many Chinese stir-fry recipes.

Tofu is much ridiculed in certain kitchens, but it remains worth learning about. In hardly any time, a hunk of no-cholesterol vegetable protein can be soaking up any flavors you have. Fried a bit, as in the picture above, and they’re a blank canvas for Chinese, Italian, Indian or Thai flavors.

A beautiful, crunchy canvas.

I’ll be honest - I wouldn’t have gotten into tofu if we didn’t eat a nearly vegan diet about a third of the year, for religious reasons. When you rule out meat and cheese for any reason, for even one meal, tofu’s one of the most versatile stand-ins you could hope for.

Check out my article about tofu from Wednesday’s Buffalo News for tofu tips and some recipes from moms whose kids love the stuff. I want to especially thank the gracious and patient Trudy Stern for helping me with my article, and contributing a recipe for the fantastic sesame-crusted tofu she serves at Tru-Teas, her tea shop at 810 Elmwood Ave.

KFC’s Famous Bowl,  by Flickr user cbg_rocketfever.

Normally, my relationship with fast-food drive-thru cuisine is pretty healthy.

I don’t eat it.

Mostly. Except for succumbing occasionally to a particularly potent advertising campaign, like that thing Wendy’s has that tops burgers with cheese sauce, bacon and jalapenos. I can’t be the only guy that hears myself talking in Homer Simpson’s voice at the drive-thru speaker.

“Mmmmmm, bacon.”

The occasional ceremonial sampling is typically followed by the traditional burying of the wrappers in a shallow grave down by the river, tears of shame trickling down my cheeks.

So it was with interest that I observed the outstanding response that KFC’s Famous Bowl has received. If you haven’t had the pleasure, let’s define the term: the Famous Bowl contains mashed potatoes, buttery corn, deep-fried popcorn chicken chunks, and a slick of KFC gravy.

But wait, there’s more - a generous handful of shredded cheese destined to melt over the entire gloriously shiny landscape.

Oddly enough, the idea for the Famous Bowl came from Jared Fishbein, listed on the KFC’s corporate organizational chart as “Vice President / Bong rips.”

The Famous Bowl’s caloric density has punctured the fabric of the space-time continuum, sucking in the likes of comic Oswald Patton.

Patton’s take on the dish (YouTube video) - hilarious but Rated R for language - has been shared with audiences for a year.

But even better was Patton’s review of an actual Famous Bowl encounter for The Onion’s AV Club.

It begins this way:

I am writing this under appreciable mental strain, since by tonight, I shall be no more. When you read these hastily scrawled words, you may guess, though never fully realize, why I must have forgetfulness or death.

Check out the rest here.

These cats have come up with a great new way to sell chicken wings in Buffalo - they’ve got chops. So to speak.

My review of Pho Saigon (1551 Niagara Falls Blvd. Amherst, in the Burlington Coat plaza) made it into the News on Friday.

I’ve been back a few times since I wrote the piece, and I have to say that those chicken wings have been a consistent treat for people experiencing the place for the first time.

I also have to add a special plug for the “Hot & Sour Soup with Catfish,” canh chua ca, which I thought was a real standout dish. No, it won’t transport you back to the rice paddies of the Mekong Delta or anything mystical.

You can’t see the tender catfish slices lurking in its depths.

It’s just a terrific introduction to the Vietnamese joy in dishes that range across your palate with sweet, salty, spicy, rich flavors. The spicy broth is laced with pineapple. The catfish steaks in its depth are topped with crunchy fried shallots. It’s accompanied by a saucer of funky-sweet fish sauce laced with dried chili shrapnel.

I had fancier dishes there too - testament to the broadness of Pho Saigon’s menu - but was simply satisfied, not wowed. A crispy duck with mango sported nicely crisped skin, but it wasn’t a dish I’ve longed for again.

Crispy duck with mango and peanut sauce - a dish that would have turned my head at many places is an also-ran here.

Who’d have thought I could acquire a hankering for catfish soup, and chicken wings without a hint of Frank’s? Score one for Pho Saigon.

Charbroiled yet flavorful, the beef satay set the tone for a satisfying spring lunch.

I love Saigon in the springtime.

My apologies to Cole Porter and the French (well, maybe just Porter). But as far as I am concerned, the only place to be seen or eat this spring is Saigon Café, 1098 Elmwood Avenue in Buffalo.

This little joint up Elmwood is my favorite warm weather restaurant even though the patio is not quite yet open.

Saigon Café is also fairly reasonable. A recent trip brought Andrew and I in for lunch. I ordered my regular with one substitution - a glass of water instead of a cold bottle of Saigon beer, as I had to return to work. (Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to knock the French - who else can justify kicking back a bottle of red first thing in the morning? Oui.)

Saigon Café makes the best wonton soup. The wontons are a light and flavorful combination of fresh ground pork in a clear broth with shreds of chicken breast garnished with cilantro and scallion ($3.50). Simply delicious, unlike a certain Chinese joint up on Main Street where the wontons could be considered a form of torture if served to detainees at Gitmo.

I followed the soup with two large succulent slabs of Thai herb marinated beef what Saigon Café calls beef satay, freshly charbroiled and accompanied by a homemade peanut sauce ($4.95). Lunch doesn’t get much better than this.

For once, the menu’s promise of “crispy” came true.

Andrew’s crispy calamari ($5.95) was a heaping pile of perfectly fried tempura-style squid rings and tentacles with another homemade sauce, this time a Thai tamarind. Andrew and I have had calamari all over the city and we agreed this is perhaps one of the best until someone proves us wrong – your treat!

Andrew completed his lunch with an actual item from the lunch menu: Pad Kapow with Shrimp ($7.95).

A piquant dish - and not bad iPhone photos either. All pictures by Matthew Pasquarella.

The Pad Kapow’s spicy hot chile-basil sauce with peppers had just the right amount of heat for a warming spring day. I will admit to sopping up a bit of the sauce on a chunk of beef satay. Who said beef satay’s just for peanut sauce?

So do yourself a favor, as soon as Saigon Café’s patio goes up, drop in for lunch. Better yet, cancel the rest of the day and knock back a few cold Saigons.

- Matthew John Pasquarella

Anthony Bourdain, originally uploaded by arandanos.

Speaking of Ulrich’s, local rocker Nelson Starr’s video attempt to lure Anthony Bourdain is one of four finalists. In an attempt to bait Bourdain into bringing his “No Reservations” show for the Travel Channel to the Queen City, Starr, under the direction of local filmmaker John Paget, spotlighted Ulrich’s (fish fry), the Anchor Bar (Buffalo’s original wings) and Ted’s (nicely charred dogs).

Here’s a sentence you might never see again: the Philippines, Thailand, Saudi Arabia, and Buffalo competing as travel destinations.

Supposedly the decision will be made this week or next. Here’s what Bourdain had to say about the search on his blog (scroll down to bottom):

Currently, wading through the submissions for the Travel With Tony thing–an often terrifying task. Just started in–but so far it’s like choosing between John Wayne Gacy, Linda Kasabian or Robyn Miller. So many people seem to be videoing themselves from a cellar apartment–a suspicious-looking chest freezer in the background. Posters of Taxi Driver and multiple copies of Catcher In The Rye. Empty tubes of airplane glue. A plastic tarpaulin rolled up against wood panelling … So many candidates seem to want to take me to rural areas in the Pacific Northwest. The words “drainage culvert” and “wooded area” keep coming up. And I’m supposed to TRAVEL with one of these people? I’m demanding a full background check, polygraph…and a Minneasota Multi-Phasic Personality test–along with the usual Rorsach. Scary!

So whether or not the No Reservations crew makes it here, we can all agree on one thing: Nelson Starr completely lacks the Jeffrey Dahmer vibe. We’re talkin’ proud!

THURSDAY NIGHT UPDATE: The woman from Saudi Arabia won. Travel Channel said Bourdain declared Nelson Starr will be on television, but stopped short of promising that Starr and Buffalo would be featured in an episode of “No Reservations.” Details in tomorrow’s Buffalo News.

You could make a meal of the fresh rye bread and butter, if they let you.

I read in the paper last month that Ulrich’s Tavern, the oldest bar in Buffalo, was facing the possibility of closing its doors.

Having already lost one beloved bar last year, the story bothered me. So when Scott took me out to a Sabres game a couple weeks ago, before the team gave up the ghost, I suggested Ulrich’s, at 674 Ellicott St.

It was an evening to remember, before a game to forget. Ulrich’s usually has Spaten, a German beer I like, on tap, along with nearly a dozen others. It’s a friendly shore to wash up on when you’re thirsty, indeed.

There was also a guy who had apparently spilled gasoline on himself before heading to Ulrichs. It lent the proceedings a touch of danger, but thankfully no one produced an open flame. I’ve never been so glad that smoking is banned in New York State’s bars.

Scott ordered the sweet potato pancakes, which came topped with a sort of fruit compote. He liked them, but I thought the spicing was a bit too pumpkin pie-ish.

I went for the the fish fry, paired with spaetzle, the fresh noodle-like dumplings, as befitting a German place. It wasn’t spectacular, just completely competent.

The basket of fresh, nicely sour rye bread didn’t hurt either.

May Ulrich’s stay open another hundred years, until customers dial their transporter booth number from around the world to pop by for a Spaten and a fish fry.

The rosy interior and crusted exterior were a must for top marks, as in this burger from Vizzi’s.

The Great Burger Hunt is over, and not a moment too soon. Here’s the article in The Buffalo News.

I have been eating a lot of broccoli for the last week. I have decided I like broccoli.

When my boss decided I should figure out who had the best burger in Western New York, it sounded like a ducky idea. I like to eat. I like hamburgers. The paper would pick up the tab.

Some 22 burgers later, we chose Vizzi’s, on Kenmore Ave. in Kenmore, for consistently delivering what we like: crusty on the outside, accurately cooked inside. It wasn’t the biggest, just the most satisfying, consistently, after repeat visits. The heap of fresh-cut fries alongside the $5.95 cheeseburger were tasty, but they were entirely beside the point.

At Grover’s, order rare and you get rare - just look at the meat juice seeping onto the plate.

Grover’s, on Transit in East Amherst, did well, but lacked the crust I adore. Malone’s, on Delaware Ave. in Kenmore, had the beefy thing happening with the meat, plus significant exterior browning.

Two places in Kenmore. Weird. I never eat in Kenmore. But I was just following the votes where they led.

I put a fork next to Malone’s one-pounder because you need to understand the scale of this thing.

The most out-there burger I tried definitely had to be the Parkside Burger - everything you’d expect in a cheeseburger, including the bun, dunked in batter and deep-fried. (No lettuce, though - the owner corrected me on this.)

The awesomeness of the idea was not matched by the execution. As you can see from the picture, oil that gets inside the batter unsurprisingly gets lapped up by the bun, in this case the upper.

The double chili cheeseburger was a model of rectitude by comparison, and I nearly finished the thing.

One clear conclusion is that frozen patties are second-class burgers in any context. If you want to serve people burgers, you should have the 15 seconds it takes to pat out a fresh disc of meat.

The other main revelation for me is that people love whatever burgers they can get their hands on. I got love letters to McDonald’s, Denny’s, and places that are frozen-patty emporiums, mainly from people who from their description couldn’t afford a $5 hamburger.

If you don’t have any choice, the burger in your hand is going to taste pretty fine.

So tasty, they can’t stay away from each other: Crispy calamari, with lemon, sweet chili sauce and a dab of marinara.

Kevin Purdy is an associate editor at Lifehacker and freelance writer.

For whatever reason, calamari had seemed, for most of my life, like a food you could only eat at restaurants. Like Cobb salad. Or jalapeño poppers, if you want to call that food.

Until the day my father forced me to take a 1.5-pound brick of frozen squid with me after a visit home—my parents have a deep freezer and a deeper belief that I live on nuts, berries, and coffee grinds in Buffalo. I came home, threw the brick in the freezer, and forgot about it—until the night I had a bunch of reporters coming over for dinner, and I desperately needed something for them to eat while I finished my late-as-always entrees. Since then, I’ve refined my calamari technique into a cheap, low-stress appetizer, and I still get a little thrill whenever dinner guests say, “You’re making calamari?”

Prepping the squid is easier than you’d think. If you don’t have time to let the brick thaw completely, put it in a big bowl with warm tap-water water and move it around a bit, then massage any ice stuck in the tubes out with your fingers. Get a sharp knife, cut the tubes into rings a little less than an inch thick (or to your preference) and trim the longest tentacle off of each bunch.

I use a breading mixture that, according to more than one food geek friend, is the “classic Gramercy Tavern method,” but I’d have no way of knowing. According to a fellow Central New York food blogger, however, it likely belongs to Gramercy’s sister restaurant, Union Square Cafe. Whoever owns it, it’s basically equal parts flour and crumbled graham crackers, with a teaspoon each of salt and pepper for good measure. Feel free to get all Creole, five-spice Asian, Italian or whatever other kind of crazy with your seasonings. Coat the pieces with the mixed breading, using the “one hand dry, one hand wet” method to save yourself a lot of hand-rinsing.

I was lucky to get a small Euro-Pro counter-top fryer for a wedding gift, but a wok or straight-sided deep skillet with enough vegetable oil to cover the rings works just as well. If you’re going to make more than a few batches, however, be prepared to switch out the oil.

Next time you’re feeling trapped between crudités and toast points, turn to the fruit of the sea. It might be as close as you can get to that fish-sticks-as-a-kid feeling as you can get, and it’s a whole lot tastier.