The ice is melting and the streets and sidewalks are once again getting navigable, allowing me to continue my quest to visit each restaurant in the Short North.
My latest adventure was 168 Asian Cuisine, which promised Chinese, Vietnamese and Thai dishes. I am usually wary of places that try to do multiple cuisines as it’s rare to find a chef trained in more than one or two.
I arrived and was quickly seated. Looking around I saw the vestiges of Zen sushi covered in black Plexiglas. The conveyor belt was neatly covered and there was plastic partially blocking what used to be a view into the kitchen. I sat in one of eight to ten booths and looked around me. Decorative lights were burned out, the bar had a Mac laptop and other misc. items on it where the owner was nesting. The area across from the bar was covered with items in various states of completion and cleanliness. Two filthy cotton rags sat next to a pile of cutlery.
A slightly dirty menu was handed to me as I pondered the wisdom in staying. I looked through the lunch specials hoping for a Thai salad and noticed that there were only Chinese options. The waiter confirmed that they only had Chinese. Disappointed, I ordered the ‘triple delight’ which he described as; “beef, chicken and shrimp in a heavy brown sauceâ€Â
The meal arrived fairly quickly, on a heavy ceramic dish which reminded me of a Mexican restaurant. The mound of rice was warm but the outside was slightly dry, most likely caused by pre scooped rice. The food was hot and tasted somewhat flavorless. The vegetables lacked any fresh crispness, but the meat, shrimp and chicken were cooked well and I was hungry. Not good Chinese, but certainly not bad. At least not until physics took the dinner amiss.
The heavy plate was cold, the food hot; but the advantage went to the plate in weight and mass. Before long the plate was imparting its cold into the brown sauce. Which became thicker and more syrupy as it cooled. The food passed fair as it cooled and stopped at poor. The edge taken off my appetite, I could not go any further.
After paying, I stood and took a casual stroll to the kitchen window to peer in. It became evident why the view from seated patrons was blocked. Although nothing I would call a health inspector about, the cooking area was messy, disorganized and dirty. The level of sanitation was on par with what I sat across from when I looked at the bar.
I walked out passing two other booths at high noon during the lunch rush.
[almost forgot the digression] When living in Asia, Chinese chefs were considered the epitome of talented chefs. There is a Japanese saying that domestic bliss is having a Japanese wife, a German housekeeper, a French mistress and a Chinese Chef. It’s hard to understand the last for a lot of people. And that is a shame. [/digression]




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