Mein Menu, part 3: The Great China
I've been staring at it for an hour, and it still doesn't make any sense. You know how these professors are... they write a textbook and they act like it's beneath them to actually figure out if the questions are worth a damn. Feels like I've been looking at this thing for five hours instead of one. It's getting late, and I can feel how empty the building is. Even Jared is gone. But it's not like I have anywhere to be. Times like this, I usually crack open a bottle of something, to ease up the mind. All I could scrounge up today was a Beck's, and it's not helping. Maybe it's time to pack up for the night.
That's when I hear the footsteps, and, fainter, the sounds of a saxophone. Dames... they always have perfect timing. As the foosteps get closer I look up to see a figure step around the liquid nitrogen dispenser. Except it's not a dame. It's Craig. "Hey man, we were going to grab some Chinese food, if you want to come," he says. I look back at the book in front of me, with the equations staring right back. The tropospheric lifetime of methane is going to have to wait.
Outside it's raining, even harder than I expected. Keith, Aaron and Manish are there. I turn up the collar of my trenchcoat. "Manish, where's your ride?" Aaron asks. "I've got it up on the north side," Manish replies. "We can get most of the way underground," Keith says. It's true. If anyone knows the bowels of these buildings, it's us. After several dark corridors and a ride on the freight elevator, we're standing outside Tan Hall and Manish heads for his car.
The place we're going is called The Great China. Never been there before myself, but the fellas say it's got a good rep, in the right circles. Still, when we get there, I'm a little skeptical. I get my Chinese food at the small joints off the alleyways, but this place is a step up, on a full-fledged side street. The sign is unassuming enough though; a little white one with "The Great China" in small print. You'd probably walk right by it if you didn't know it was there. That's promising, at least... there's enough glaring neon in this town to make a man colorblind.
We pull the car into the alley in the back, which makes me feel a little more at ease. It's stopped raining too, which is more luck than a man can expect around here. When we get inside, I can tell this place is the real deal. Aaron shoots me a glance that says "how could you have doubted me?" He's right, of course. I guess I'm just a little low on trust these days.
The people in this place know what they want, and what they want is some good Chinese food. Let the high-class blokes keep their upscale Solano restaurants... this joint is where the real stuff is. A dame once told me that you can tell a good Chinese joint if it's got oil in the floor. Well, let's just say that the carpets in this place look a few shades darker than green number twelve.
We get a table in the back. It's next to a window that used to be a door, with a nice view of the back alley. The waiter gives us menus, but I barely need to glance at one. There's only one thing on the menu for me: the Deluxe Chow Mein. We get in our order, and the fellas get some spring rolls and potstickers for the table. We don't have to wait long. If you couldn't tell that the cook pulled no punches with the spring rolls, you can definitely tell with the mustard they come with. It hits you like a lightbulb to the face. A lightbulb full of wasabi. The potstickers don't mess around either... you won't find any of those thin-skinned runts here, these are all-out dumplings.
Then the chow mein arrives. It's got everything a man could ask for. Beef, chicken, pork, and shrimp with exactly the right mix of vegetables thrown in. But the main thing is that they've got the noodles down. Chow mein is all about the noodles, and I'll be damned if it isn't hard to find a cook who knows how it's done. Just the right amount of sauce mixed in, and it's near-perfect. The fact that I get a huge heaping platter doesn't hurt either.
Just when we're finishing up, a garbage truck pulls into the alley. This guy must have the graveyard shift. I've been there before. It's a good thing we didn't take my car... this guy would throw that piece of junk out with the rest of the trash. Still, we're not going to be able to get Manish's car out of there until the garbage man is done with his business. Suits me just fine... means we get to sit back for a little bit, before it's back to the grind in the morning. Not often a man can get a bit of a break around here. Trying to get by in this place will wear a guy down, week in and week out. But one thing about this town... you sure can get some damned good Chinese food.
That's when I hear the footsteps, and, fainter, the sounds of a saxophone. Dames... they always have perfect timing. As the foosteps get closer I look up to see a figure step around the liquid nitrogen dispenser. Except it's not a dame. It's Craig. "Hey man, we were going to grab some Chinese food, if you want to come," he says. I look back at the book in front of me, with the equations staring right back. The tropospheric lifetime of methane is going to have to wait.
Outside it's raining, even harder than I expected. Keith, Aaron and Manish are there. I turn up the collar of my trenchcoat. "Manish, where's your ride?" Aaron asks. "I've got it up on the north side," Manish replies. "We can get most of the way underground," Keith says. It's true. If anyone knows the bowels of these buildings, it's us. After several dark corridors and a ride on the freight elevator, we're standing outside Tan Hall and Manish heads for his car.
The place we're going is called The Great China. Never been there before myself, but the fellas say it's got a good rep, in the right circles. Still, when we get there, I'm a little skeptical. I get my Chinese food at the small joints off the alleyways, but this place is a step up, on a full-fledged side street. The sign is unassuming enough though; a little white one with "The Great China" in small print. You'd probably walk right by it if you didn't know it was there. That's promising, at least... there's enough glaring neon in this town to make a man colorblind.
We pull the car into the alley in the back, which makes me feel a little more at ease. It's stopped raining too, which is more luck than a man can expect around here. When we get inside, I can tell this place is the real deal. Aaron shoots me a glance that says "how could you have doubted me?" He's right, of course. I guess I'm just a little low on trust these days.
The people in this place know what they want, and what they want is some good Chinese food. Let the high-class blokes keep their upscale Solano restaurants... this joint is where the real stuff is. A dame once told me that you can tell a good Chinese joint if it's got oil in the floor. Well, let's just say that the carpets in this place look a few shades darker than green number twelve.
We get a table in the back. It's next to a window that used to be a door, with a nice view of the back alley. The waiter gives us menus, but I barely need to glance at one. There's only one thing on the menu for me: the Deluxe Chow Mein. We get in our order, and the fellas get some spring rolls and potstickers for the table. We don't have to wait long. If you couldn't tell that the cook pulled no punches with the spring rolls, you can definitely tell with the mustard they come with. It hits you like a lightbulb to the face. A lightbulb full of wasabi. The potstickers don't mess around either... you won't find any of those thin-skinned runts here, these are all-out dumplings.
Then the chow mein arrives. It's got everything a man could ask for. Beef, chicken, pork, and shrimp with exactly the right mix of vegetables thrown in. But the main thing is that they've got the noodles down. Chow mein is all about the noodles, and I'll be damned if it isn't hard to find a cook who knows how it's done. Just the right amount of sauce mixed in, and it's near-perfect. The fact that I get a huge heaping platter doesn't hurt either.
Just when we're finishing up, a garbage truck pulls into the alley. This guy must have the graveyard shift. I've been there before. It's a good thing we didn't take my car... this guy would throw that piece of junk out with the rest of the trash. Still, we're not going to be able to get Manish's car out of there until the garbage man is done with his business. Suits me just fine... means we get to sit back for a little bit, before it's back to the grind in the morning. Not often a man can get a bit of a break around here. Trying to get by in this place will wear a guy down, week in and week out. But one thing about this town... you sure can get some damned good Chinese food.
posted by Waltorious at 10:48 PM
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