Photo Via Pan-Asia Supermarket - panasiasupermarket.com
Pan-Asia Supermarket
Pan Asia Market stands as something of a marvel of multicultural free enterprise.
The grocery store chain—the latest location opened this August in West Allis (6910 W. Greenfield Ave.) offers food from much of its namesake continent. Walking through its aisles of packaged goods, produce, meat and dairy is akin to a colorful, international culinary tour, minus the flavors. Browsing Pan Asia could well inspire novices to the cuisine of some countries to broaden their palate based on the kaleidoscope of colorful packaging on its shelves.
Though not everything one might find at a more ethnically specialized grocer looks to be stocked at the local Pan Asian Market (I searched in vain for the East Indian puffed sorghum snack I enjoy as a popcorn substitute), its 36,000 square feet of multiple choices is all the same stunning. Like so many food retailers recently, it also houses a restaurant.
Pan Asia Bakery & Cafe serves a gamut of dishes from the lands its menu represents, even entrees hard to find or otherwise unavailable elsewhere locally.
During a recent lunch visit, a friend and I were both drawn to the Korean menu section of the lighted board above the order counter. When I expressed interest in the jjajangmyeon, a customer piped up, saying that it's a black bean dish. And sure enough, the picture of it over the clerk's head looked like black beans over white noodles. Having been a while since I had that kind of legume, I was game to give it a go.
Set in a tall, wide, white bowl, the jajangmyeon base was placed neatly atop its complementary starch (a tad thicker and chewier than vermicelli or spaghetti) with slices of yellow radish and shoestring-sliced cucumber garnishes on either side. Mixed together with wooden chopsticks, the dish burst in myriad directions of taste and texture in my mouth. The slight, caramel-like sweetness of chunjang, or Korean black bean paste, mingled with the cubed vegetables and meat—probably pork belly—made for an immediate favorite I'd order again, if not dare make it myself. But what might have been exotic and revelatory to me has been a common dish in Korea not long after Chinese immigrants to the land developed it centuries ago.
My dining companion opted for the tteeo bokki, or fish cakes. That they reminded us of pasta is no coincidence, as 30% was comprised of wheat flour amidst ground fish and vegetables. He and I were at least as mistaken by the origin of the vivid red sauce in which those cakes abided. Instead of the tomato foundation we both took it for, its crimson hue derives from chili paste and flakes. Yet, it wasn't as spicy as those ingredients imply. That may be due to the chilis' heat being offset by the sauce made with dried anchovies and kelp. Neither did those seafood and seaweed elements make the tteeo bokki overly salty; Its mixture of fish cakes and similarly-shaped rice cakes in a vivid sauce made for a simple entree, a perennially popular Korean street food.
On a separate solo trip back to the cafe, I tried what I figured might be a vegetarian meal, as I thought jjajangmyeon might have been. Though bean curd usually stands alone as a protein, that can't be said for tofu soon (also called sundubu jjigae, among other names).
Filling a cast iron bowl brimming with a liquid similar to that of the tteeo bokki were chunks of silken soybean curd. Further below resided littleneck clams and prawns. A mound of short grain white rice sat beside the stew, providing neutral pallet for the simmering array of pescatarian and soybean-derived flavors.
Appetizer orders accompanying my main courses were not identified by their place of origin, but both were worth ordering again. Yellow flour dumplings filled with chunks of white meat chicken and, seemingly, a bit of broth, were pleasantly surprising in their degrees of softness and hardness, solidity and liquidness. A basic iteration of Chinese dim sum favorite shumai starred miniature shrimp-and-pork meatballs baked in open-face won ton skins. Both were accompanied by cups of thin, brown dipping sauce with a strong note of vinegar but appropriate for both apps.
Apart from Korean meals, Pan Asia Cafe & Bakery serves an assortment of Southeast Asian (Thai, Vietnamese) and Chinese dishes. The latter may be the most common of Asian eating in the U.S., but the cafe's eggplant and black bean entree looks like a rare find among local Chinese eateries.
Desserts? None are on the menu board—which is neither online nor available in paper form—but just around the corner from the cafe is a boba tea stand where a sweet meal-topper can be had in drinkable form. And there's an abundance of other sweet beverages, candy and, pastries on offer in Pan Asian Market proper.
For an operation that's only been around for a few weeks, the market's cafe doesn't have many bugs to work out and certainly provides a diverse, fairly economical dining experience.
