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Yelp Review of an Undisclosed Chinese Restaurant


I grew up down the street and my family would go here on a semi-weekly basis when I was growing up. Now it's always the first place I go when I'm home. It might just be the MSG or maybe it's all the countless cherished memories I have here with family and friends, but there is no eatery that can provide me with as strong a feeling of satisfaction.

Every time the decor seems to get classier by a few quanta, to the point where they now have piped-in soothing piano music, white tablecloths, and even some artwork on the walls. The place is usually pretty empty since most of their clientele does takeout, but eating in is a great experience. (Fun fact: there used to be a sign out front that advertised free valet parking, but since their parking lot consists of about ten parking spaces in two separate lots and they are at the intersection of two narrow streets, this was always a lie.) You can't really go wrong with any of the entrees, except the walnut shrimp look like are covered with a mixture of phlegm and whale semen. But don't let that dissuade you, the walnut shrimp are delicious once you get past the appearance.

What most people don't realize about this place is how incredibly well stocked the bar is. It's probably the most under-utilized stash of liquor this side of prohibition. However, be warned: although they have all the necessary ingredients to make sake bombs, it's a trap. When my friends and I asked for some, the bartender seemed confused. A Chinese man sitting at the bar tried to tell him what we wanted, and all of a sudden they were yelling at each other in impassioned Cantonese. The two waiters and the maitre d' got involved in the discussion, and then even the manager got involved, causing it to escalate into a six person hustle and a bustle. We had created a mini Chinese soap opera. To quell the situation, we just asked for three Saporros and three cups of sake. We thought this was the end of the saga, but as it turns out, their glasses are not conducive to sake-bombing. They taper about halfway down to the point where the sake cup gets stuck, blocking some of the beer at the bottom until you tilt your glass all the way back, at which point you have to brace yourself to keep  the dregs from spilling all over you.

When the bombs drop and there is nothing but fallout and burned cities and black soot blocks out the sun, I will fight my way through hordes of mutants in a beat up diesel pickup truck, on the off chance that this is the one place from the world I once knew that has survived.

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