Bad Pan-Asian Food Must Die!
American Chinese food is vaguely satisfying, oddly perplexing (Moo Shu Pork, anyone?), and just a tad irritating (I wanted so badly to jump up and scream, “People, this isn’t Chinese food! Not even close!”).
But still, I go. I accept it as the separate and necessary cuisine that it is and order things like Lemongrass Shrimp with Noodles (above left) and Spinach with Garlic (above right).
Often, it’s rather tasty.
Not today.
At some point, I think the chefs at P. F. Chang’s decided, “Fuck it, we don’t even need to pretend to be an Asian restaurant anymore.”
The noodles turned out to be pasta type noodles, not Asian noodles. Strike one.
The “spinach” turned out to be spinach salad leaves stir fried in garlic, NOT the Chinese spinach I assumed I was ordering. Strike two.
It all would have tasted semi-decent if at the very least, I ate the meal while it was hot.
But Ruby decided to wake up with a yell that said, “This is the end of my world as I know it. Feed me, change me, hold me. Now.”
I did all three, and when I returned to the meal, it was stone cold.
Strike three.