My guy and I wanted to dine out with my mom this weekend. Mom was craving sweet and sour soup and claypot catfish, two childhood favorites I grew up with mom making at least once every two weeks, so we came here. We found both as part of the four-person set dinner meal ($43.99 as of Oct 2017), so we ordered that to share. Meal options:
APPETIZER: 6 egg rolls or 4 spring rolls
SOUP: Sweet and sour soup with choice of catfish or shrimp
PROTEIN: Claypot catfish, no choice
SAUTÉ: Mustard greens with choice of tofu, beef, or squid
We grabbed spring rolls, soup with catfish, and the squid sauté options to go with the standard claypot catfish. And proceeded to wipe down our table as we always do - to find our napkins gray with grime. Has this surface been cleaned since the place opened?
Peering over at the drink and dessert refrigerator, I found racks of prefilled glasses with no lids on them. Even if they were to go through all of those in a single day, I would question the sanitation level of that setup - and I highly doubt they handle that number of those specific drinks in a day. I'll pass, thanks.
The spring rolls came out first. My guy and I, both goi cuon fanatics, gave the plate an odd look. The choice of char siu slices of pork, while not traditional, was fine, though I imagine the choice was more a matter of what was convenient to the restaurant than the quality of the dish, particularly given everything else about the rather awkward rolls. The ends were left completely open, leaving the components to dry out and fall out upon being handled, especially given that the lettuce was shredded - that was a first. Clearly repurposed from an already-shredded pile meant for general use. Herbs, the most pricey element, were barely present or perceptible.
This was the most pathetic roll I'd picked up throughout my childhood in southern California's Little Saigon, roaming streets in Saigon proper as a fresh college grad, and in my overall travels. Given I found a pretty legit goi cuon an hour out of Chicago with barely a Vietnamese community just weeks ago, this is just sad. By time the main dishes arrived, I'd had one bite and set the roll down immediately, and my Irishman had half of a roll where he'd normally devour a plate's worth. My mom didn't bother touching a single one. Smart cookie.
I can't say it got better from there.
The claypot catfish was way salty. In Vietnamese cuisine, there are several home-style protein dishes made on the salty-sweet side as a matter of course to force diners to balance the stronger flavors out with much larger chopstick shovelfuls of cheap, filling rice for every morsel of meat savored, every bite of seafood taken. Given the strong savory-sweet taste, these dishes tend to be very popular with children of Vietnamese descent. I was no exception and remain a fan of these still. For both my mom and I to put the dish aside to reseason in the kitchen ourselves is pretty bad. My guy didn't even bother with it after his first nibble.
The squid sauté felt out of place at a family-style meal. The cornstarch slurry was too thick, the flavors too processed. Not surprisingly, my Irishman took lead on that dish - he likes squid enough not to mind the Panda Express element and had noticed that neither mom nor I touched it once after our first taste of it.
The soup was the one salvation, decently balanced. We were amused to note that the bowl was brimming with the cheaper ingredients, such as bean sprouts, and skimping on ingredients critical to the soup that happen to be pricier in the TC area. This became particularly evident when I was fishing for even one slice of the porous, spongy vegetable stem known as ba.c hà early on in the meal to have my guy try something different - to find that even with my mom and I both searching, we came up with exactly one last slice. And we were swimming in tangles of bean sprouts and tomatoes while we searched, so we definitely hadn't reached even the midway point of the meal yet. The bowl was also full of okra nubs alongside okra slices - another first. Cutting corners that much?
To make the ending just as hilarious as the rest of the meal, they gave us a paper to-go box to stuff the spring rolls in. Anyone who has handled rice paper knows what happens when you shove moistened rice paper against more moistened rice paper - it tears. Add to that the shredded lettuce and you may as well rename the resulting mess "deconstructed goi cuon salad." You guys *are* running a Vietnamese restaurant with goi cuon on your menu here, right? You shouldn't need Rice Paper 101.
Not that it matters. By the next morning, the shredded lettuce with its many oxidating edges had browned, and the look of the ingredients overall warned my human trash compactor of a stomach gamble. My 6-year Marine veteran with the ironclad stomach gave the three and a half remaining spring rolls a pass - right over to a underfed squirrel neighbor we'd met a few days before. read more