Formerly good dim sum

Every year my friends get together for our birthdays. This year I chose Fong Chong's to gather with all my favourite people to celebrate the anniversary of my parents having sex (thanks Carie, Rudy - you've both scarred me for life). One of my friends had never experienced dim sum before, and it was exciting to watch her try various dishes.

We were enjoying the meal, catching up with each other's lives (for those of us who hadn't seen each other just the previous day) and stuffing ourselves full of bau and sticky rice, until we were joined at our table by a small, ugly roach-shaped friend. We squished it flat on the floor, but it pretty much ruined our appetites.

We settled our bill poste-haste and left. While gathered on the side-walk out front, one of the workers bustled out after us complaining about the lack of tip. I've never had to kill a cockroach in a restaurant then been chased down to give a better tip.

I have been going to Fong Chong's for dim sum for years. It is usually an enjoyable meal, but after yesterday's experience I will be looking for a new dim sum restaurant.

Rib City

3655 S.W. Hall Boulevard
Beaverton, Oregon 97005
(503) 643-7427
Mon - Thur 11:00 am – 9:00 pm
Fri & Sat 11:00 am – 10:00 pm
Sun 11:00 noon – 8:00pm

At the suggestion of one of Mr. J’s co-workers, we decided to eat dinner at Rib City Friday night.

Now, I have a funny relationship with ribs. I fancy myself as far too dignified to gnaw meat off bones. The image of eating ribs, with a bib tucked into the collar of my shirt, barbecue sauce smeared across my mouth, and fingers gooey and slippery as I hungrily chew rib-meat off a bone is something I don’t ever want to have to face. I am not generally dainty and girly, but I do have limits. Ribs are my limit.

We had driven past the restaurant many times (usually on our way to Wendy’s); Mr. J would gaze hungrily at the place (he loves ribs) and I would shudder at the prospect of all the gnawing and smearing.

Someone else’s endorsement was enough, and we took ourselves off for ribs.

We ordered a plate called A feast for Two, which could probably have fed three or four:

Half a rack of baby-back ribs
Half a chicken
Shaved pork
Shaved chicken
Baked beans
Baked potatoes
Cole Slaw

The entire meal cost us $32.99, which seemed rather reasonable for the amount of meat we got. The ribs were excellent; the meat was very tender and cooked in a spicy-tangy-sweet barbecue sauce. We were also given dispensers with three different types of barbecue sauce.

The service was also very good; each server had a hand-held wireless computer into which they entered our order. The order was transmitted directly to the kitchen. When the time came to pay, our waitress swiped our card right at our table and printed out a receipt on a small printer slung around her waist. I was transfixed, equally by the meat and by the devices.

There wasn't much of an atmosphere to speak of. It was busy when we were there, so it was a little noisy. The wait-staff all seemed hurried and energetic, busy but not grumpy, and generally very friendly. While a little light on the ambiance, the food and the service made the experience very good. And I ate it all without making a ghastly mess of myself. We’re definitely eating there again.

L & L Hawaiian Barbecue

Mr. J and I like to eat out. It's sort of a problem for us, one I don't see changing anytime soon, what with his love of food and my lack of cooking skills.

Some time ago we ate at a place called L & L Hawaiian Barbecue. I've been meaning to review it for months, but every time I thought about I had a visceral memory of the taste of the food in my mouth and had to fight down nausea.

I tried the Chicken Katsu, having never had it before. It was very greasy, leaving behind a film in my mouth (which I hardly ever enjoy). The chicken itself was unusual, unlike any chicken I've ever had; I can't quite find words to convey how awful it was, but things like "slimy" and "wobbly" come to mind.

I did not enjoy it overall, and Mr. J wasn't too impressed either.

If you're in the Beaverton area, try it and tell me what you think. It's located off Cedar Hills Blvd in the mall.

3205 S.W. Cedar Hills Blvd., Ste. 23
Beaverton, OR 97005
Phone: (503)726-0770/(503)726-0771
Fax: (503) 726-0772

"Bye bye, balloon"

I went to dinner tonight. I had a burger, if you're curious, the kind that is really good but if you don't eat fast enough the bun and the paper it's wrapped in get all soggy and gross. Inside the restaurant there were balloons and a person dressed as a bird entertaining children (and Mr. J, for that matter). Leaving the burger restaurant, Mr. J and I observed a little girl letting her balloon go. "Bye bye, balloon," she called as she watched it drift slowly upward. "Bye bye, balloon," her family solemnly stated.

We talked about this in the car on the way home. I was remembering the various incidents of children becoming upset at the loss of a balloon that I have witnessed; incidents where parents encourage the unreasoning attachment to a balloon by replacing it. I am saddened, on probably a deeper level than I really should be, at the gross attachment to something so insignificant; I wonder if this is a mentality that persists throughout a person's entire life and helps shape an unwillingness to let go. We seem to be afraid of so many things associated with 'letting go': we are afraid of death and sickness and disease; of change; of personal loss.

I think of my own lessons in balloon-loss that I learned as a child; I remember my mom telling me that some balloons just have to get lost, that all the fun I just had with my balloon was still just as fun. I couldn't keep the balloon forever, anyway, so why not just let it go. No, we couldn't drive really fast and catch up to it. I never got a replacement balloon, and I learned about carrying on with my life without it. I never realized about that lesson until tonight, when I witnessed someone else learning it.

I've had a lot of balloons drift in and out of my life, and I've mourned them all when they leave. But they don't get replaced; no matter how badly we want to replace the things we lose, the best we can do is carry on with whatever joy we gained from them and learn to enjoy the next thing that comes our way with as much passion as we enjoyed the last thing.

I still have some attachments that could use some letting go of; it's so clear to me when it's a balloon in a child's hands.

Bye bye, indeed.

Dinner

Mr. J and I celebrated our third wedding anniversary with dinner at the lodge where we spent our honeymoon. Before dinner we sat next to the window and had a very pretty view of a small grassy area, a sun-dial, and misty mountain-tops. Dinner was steak, prime rib, mashed potatoes, and vegetables; I had Chardonnay, because I fancy myself a snooty wine drinker, and we shared an espresso chocolate souffle dish for dessert.

While we were eating and chatting, I noticed a family playing catch on the nice grass. A dad and two small boys were tossing a baseball among the three of them, while Mom chased after a small girl who seemed to delight in running between the boys. I remembered my own childhood, and the infrequent visits with my dad and the games we played. Dad wanted a boy, so I grew up doing things boys did; one of which was playing catch, only we did it with a football.

I enjoyed watching that family; they looked like they were having a lot of fun throwing a little ball between themselves. I enjoyed watching it so much that I convinced Mr. J that we would be happier if we had our own baseball to throw around. So today I bought us mitts and baseballs, and tomorrow we'll play catch in the park until we burst with happiness.

Birthday celebration

Mr. Jade turned 40 years old yesterday; in our house, when it's your birthday you get whatever you want for dinner. He chose Benihana, a teppanyaki restaurant near our apartment. We enjoy teppanyaki, both for the food and for the experience.

On one of our first vacations together we went on a road trip through Arizona and California. We stopped in Flagstaff, Arizona and stayed a few days. While there, I had my first teppanyaki experience. That was when I discovered that I love sushi, and having a chef cook for you at your table is among the best dining experiences ever.

Last night didn't disappoint at all. I had a combination steak/chicken meal; Mr. J had the "land and sea" - scallops and steak. All combinations include onion soup, which is an excellent light broth with green onions, mushrooms, and french-fried onions; also included was salad, and a shrimp appetizer. I don't normally care for most seafood, including shrimp, but the way it was prepared was delicious and well-worth eating. We also got a dragon roll; I usually use unagi as my measure for how good sushi is, but we wanted something different last night. It was very good, though we had so much food it was a little overwhelming. Dessert was green tea ice-cream, another item I had never had but now love.

There were many birthdays last night. The staff sang two versions of "happy birthday" - in English, and in Japanese. They brought out little candles and took your photograph. Mr. J declined to acknowledge his birthday, but someone else at our table was also having a birthday so we embarrassed her instead.

All the singing aside, it was a great meal with excellent ambiance. Meals appeared to average around twenty dollars a plate. I highly recommend teppanyaki, and Benihana.

Moroccan feast

I have been hearing about the Marrakesh for a number of years, but I had never had the pleasure of experiencing this for myself. Until tonight. Jeff took me out for my birthday dinner, and surprised me by treating me to traditional Moroccan food. It was very good, and five hours later I'm still full.

The interior of the restaurant looks like the interior of a lavish pavilion; richly coloured drapes adorned doorways and arches, deep couches ran along the external walls with low, ornate tables surrounded by plush stools. After we were seated we were given menus and very large towels in place of napkins. Once we had ordered our meal, the server brought a very ornate silver basin and kettle, and washed our hands in warm, rose-scented water. Utensils were available upon request, but we chose to eat with our hands instead.

The first course was a lentil soup and a salad; the salad also had a layer of lentil sauce, somewhat spicy, layered over torn lettuce, white onions, sesame seeds, and a very light dressing. Squares of bread were served, which were best enjoyed after being soaked in the soup.

The second course was a delicious appetizer called B'stellela Royale, which was a mixture of unseasoned chicken and celery, cooked until very soft and baked inside a flaky pastry crust and topped with powdered sugar and a dusting of cinnamon. It doesn't sound appetizing at all, but it was an amazing mix of textures and tastes.

I chose beef and vegetable brochette for my entree. I couldn't identify all the spices used but it was an earthy, spicy mixture; my meal came with a tremendous serving of rice and vegetables. Jeff had cous-cous with vegetables and lamb; the lamb was placed in the centre of the plate with the cous-cous and vegetables piled on top of it, so that the cous-cous absorbed the flavour of the lamb; it was very moist and the lamb was exceptionally well-prepared.

After we finished our entrees, our hands were again washed in rose water, then our server generously splashed our hands with more rose-water and an orange blossom oil which we rubbed in vigorously; it left our hands very soft. The mess of dropped crumbs, evidence of our having eaten with our hands, was wiped away so that we could enjoy dessert feeling clean and refreshed.

Dessert was a mint tea and a very dense, almond-flavoured pastry.

The entire evening was exciting and fun; the food was among the best I have ever eaten and the service and atmosphere were both very welcoming and inviting. It was a terrific way to celebrate my thirtieth year of life.