Deanna Sandoval
With few exceptions, most soups on restaurant menus are often forgettable, and that’s if anyone orders them in the first place. But Glass Box’s Taiwanese beef noodle soup is anything but.
Taiwanese beef noodle soup at Glass Box, a sushi bar and restaurant at the Sky Deck in Del Mar Heights. It’s North County’s two-story answer to something like Liberty Public Market or National City’s Market on Eighth. A family recipe from Poway-native and executive chef Ethan Yang and his father (who is a longtime chef and restaurateur), the dish took the pair six months to perfect.
To begin, beef bones and broth cook down into a complex, savory base for beef shank, hand-pulled noodles, and bok choy at least 72 hours beforehand. It’s flavored with Chinese five-spice, and gets a subtle kick from doubanjiang, a salty and spicy Chinese condiment typically made with fermented broad or soy beans and chilis.
Deanna Sandoval
Before beef shank assumed its starring role, they rotated through short-rib, beef tendon, brisket, and flank. “Everytime we cooked it down, it was either too chewy, too hard,” Yang says of most beef cuts. Alternatively, beef shank cooks down slowly, and its fat content helps tenderize the protein along the way.
Loyal guests of Zen Asian Bistro in Carmel Mountain may recognize this dish. Before Ethan opened Glass Box, he launched Zen with his Dad and brother in 2016. There, the Taiwanese beef noodle soup became an unexpected hit.
At home, the hearty dish makes a regular appearance among Yang’s family. “I eat it almost every day,” he says. It’s all he ever wants when he’s sick. In Taiwan, where Ethan’s dad is from, beef noodle soup is to the island what the California burrito is to San Diego—it’s everywhere.
The culinary collaboration between father and son, however, long predates their beef noodle soup. When other kids ran feral on the playground, six-year-old Ethan wanted to learn to cook. He started out boiling chicken at the wok. Helping out his dad and grandma after school was never a burden. “Grandma was always in the back making wontons,” Yang says. There, he had the opportunity to spend time with his Dad in particular, who practically lived in restaurant kitchens. “I loved to pick my Dad’s brain, it inspired me to learn more.”
Deanna Sandoval
In Taiwan, the elder Yang ran a BBQ restaurant and was also a dim sum chef before moving to San Diego, where he ran restaurants like the former Mr. Charlie’s Fortune Cookie in Rancho Bernardo. When he got older, Yang wielded a knife well enough to break down a chicken, chop vegetables, and slice fish. He could peel and devein shrimp, and marinate proteins. Beyond the kitchen, he learned how to wash dishes, bus tables, and serve and interact with guests. He loved it, and wanted more.
Before Glass Box, Yang spent nearly a decade as director of restaurants at Pechanga Casino. He held back and front of house positions throughout the county, including at Sushiya, and Tango in Escondido, now Bellamy’s, where he learned fine dining.
Yang and his Glass Box team are constantly experimenting with twists on traditional flavors, whether it be infusing a ponzu sauce with dragon fruit, or toying with a durian-washed martini. Recently, hamachi nigiri served as a melt-in-your-mouth canvas for a flavor explosion of watermelon, togarashi salt, and dehydrated daikon. “I always tell my kitchen staff and front of house that there’s always something to learn,” Yang says.