Last night Jenn and I decided to try out this little Chinese restaurant that’s kind of close to our house. We’d seen it, but we’re not terribly adventurous folk, so not knowing the type of food (Cantonese vs. Szechuan - we like Cantonese better… lots of deep, lots of fried…) or quality made us wary. We decided to take the jump last night.

It was actually pretty good. The fried shrimp was different than I’m used to - it had a flaky breading with some sweetness to it instead of having been battered. The pork fried rice had (gasp) actual, visible pieces of barbecued pork in it (and it was very tasty). I had the General Tso chicken and it was tasty - the spiciness was just right.

The experience, though, was in the environment. The place is very obviously a house that they tore the inside out of and converted to a restaurant. You order at what looks like a fast food counter, with a giant color menu behind the register. The dining area had four tables of mediocre quality - our table had absolutely no stability to it, and the table diagonal from us was held together with cardboard and aluminum foil. There were these random posters of Chinese women on the walls… like fashion models or something. Fake ivy plants hung at intervals along the wall, with plastic fruits coming out of them (bananas, oranges, apples). I was previously unaware that ivy bore fruit, but I guess I was misinformed. A small TV/VCR unit was mounted in the corner of the dining area playing a rerun of Malcom in the Middle.

The whole thing was very surreal. The food was good (and reasonably priced), the environment interesting…

I’ll totally eat there again.

My fortune (all spelling and grammar exactly like this): “Today it’s up to you to created the peacefulness you long for.”

Awesome.