In Search of Chow Mein - metal serving dish at chinese restaurants

Corey in Kiel Gan Nuo
23 years old, 1997 years old, in Marcel Proust's memory of things of the past, a stream of memory is attracted by the taste of a narrator inecookie,
My recent trip took place during the crazy lunch rush hour at the crowded Chinatown Chinese fast food restaurant.
I sat on a bowl of chicken rice.
Do you remember Zhou Min?
You can choose to add a paste vegetable mixture of meat to the hard egg noodles?
This is my epiphany, my rose bud.
Sitting on the sticky rice mixture, the steam on the plate blurs my glasses like the memory scene of "Gilligan Island.
Then, a childhood memory of Chinese food in the past began to overflow.
Each fork becomes sharper: in a restaurant, Red tablecloths and heavy white napkins are guarded by giant roaring dragon statues. A poker-
Wearing a dark red coat decorated in black to face the waiter, first a shiny hot metal teapot and a cup without a handle, then a bowl of crispy noodles on brown wood
There are paneled bowls and two bowls of duck sauce and hot mustard.
But why do people feel nostalgic about a plate of greasy vegetables?
Why is the regret for this dish, once the most typical Chinese food in the city, now slips away from the consciousness of New Yorkers, just like some of the most precious memories of childhood.
Forget Joe DiMaggio.
Where have you been, chicken?
What did La Choy look like when he put Chinese food in the United States?
When a Monday time, the single parent dad made an exotic dinner for us by mixing the chicken food in a big jar with the dry noodles in another big jar.
Chow mein had a bowl of steaming old-
The Cantonese-style fare evokes those exciting old films in which the private eyes of the streets or smooth criminals slide out of the cold drizzle into a mystery
After rudely ordering to an ob-flattering waiter, they shovel down the food and plan how to hide the stiff food or blow the safe.
A homicide detective said to his partner, "there's nothing more rigid than making me crave Chinese food . " (Robert Duvall)
In a 1940s Los Angeles film about detectives, after checking a woman cut in half, in true confession.
You see, those days are when the attitude of Chinese food is not good.
At the end of the 70 th century, before Hunan and Sichuan took over, Chinese food did not mean the joy of sesame chicken and Buddha, but ribs, eggs, moo goo pots and chow mein.
"Once, this was Chinese food," said Ken Hom, author of the recipe "simple family recipes from Chinese"
American children (Alfred A. Knopf, 1997).
But the taste of people has changed.
"I want to know where is the restaurant that plays the role of protector in this endangered dish?
My memory caught me in an obsession with exploring, from the hippest areas in the east to the basement, diving on the dark winding Chinatown streets, trying to find a bowl of perfect food.
In the search, I may have created a record of world overeating. (
Has anyone had four great meals in less than 24 hours? )
I have some clues.
I know it's noodles.
The name means fried noodles)
May have originated in Guangzhou.
Cabbage, celery, onions, mushrooms, or bean sprouts are topped.
But to cater to American tastes, chow mein evolved into a meat dish in its most extreme form, with the gravy heavy and crisp, deep
Omelet noodles.
Chinese advertising
Fans of Americans and chow mein still prefer the original pan-
But American noodles became standard food in 1960s and 50.
How many bottles of blue nuns or Mateus rose were opened for a bowl of chow mein in a suburban family?
"It's convenient, it's like eating a little exotic without having to leave home," said Mr. Hom said.
In New York, many Chinese immigrants find that they can open restaurants with limited culinary expertise. Hom said.
"Even if they don't know how to cook, they can put something together," he said . ".
"Because they know Americans like crispy fried food, they say, 'Hey, this is a great way to sell these things.
"I started on the phone.
Several calls from uptown and downtown have nothing but a dead end.
"This is old fashioned," said Alice Chen . ".
"It's not even on the menu. '' Ms.
Chen said, the Chinese entertainment manager on the Second Avenue and 65 th Street, Zhou Min only did it occasionally.
"No one asked, then what should we do? '' she said.
"It's only good if you're sick or for old people who are used to it.
"But Irene Leon's words are encouraging, and she has managed Guangdong restaurants for 40 years in 45 division streets in Chinatown.
"Some people still ask to do this," Ms. Leong said.
"They remember eating as a child and ordering, but in the new place, the chef didn't know how to actually cook.
She did serve it, she said.
So, with Zagat's guide and a pack of Lucky blows (O. K. , so I'm corny)
I started on foot.
At first, there were no other restaurants offering cold noodles and fried green beans except the sparkling purple chain, but no chow mein.
I began to feel like Rip Van Winkle.
Where was the new "Pine lion" logo that once seemed to hang in the window of every Chinese restaurant?
It seems to have disappeared from the city landscape.
Then, on the Second Avenue and the 12 th Street, on a dim street called Yushan, there are two stories, the magic words appear like a lighthouse, a sign of neon, its dim red light seems to bring a strange fog to the air. I entered. Jackpot.
Yushan is called "The last Chinese restaurant in New York" by some customers, and there are nine different weekly meal entries on the menu.
But this is not a black scene.
Punk and Gen-
X'ers and Old Chinese and Jewish couples sit in monotonous stalls and eat fat omelet and omelet with shiny metal dishes.
There are even options on the menu for columns A and B.
This is too good to be true.
"We have a lot of old customers getting used to the old Cantonese style," said owner Reggie Chan . ".
"That's how they grew up.
Now, with their grandchildren, they grow up with them.
Yushan opened in 1931.
Like Chinatown, there are two basic ways to serve food.
Cantonese means stewing vegetables in a large yellow pot. fried noodles.
"That's how the Chinese eat," he said. Chan said.
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On the other hand, he pointed to a paste of shredded chicken and celery with thick and clear gravy.
Here is once-
By the next day, the hard noodles became more humid.
"This is chow mein in the United States.
"Man Bun Ho, 34, at the checkout counteryear-
The old computer consultant holds a takeout order for Cantonese cuisine.
"I got this here since I was a child," Sir. Ho said.
They do better here than in Chinatown.
"Veronica pinplon, 23, a teacher assistant from the Lower East Side, has just wiped a plate of chow mein and a few bowls of Wonton soup. Ms.
"My parents are here for the first time on a date," she said.
But my journey is not over yet.
The more questions I ask, the more I realize that authenticity is a problem for the chow mein community.
I learned that the real deal could be further down the city center.
The manager, Karen Chen, advertises at Rhubarb restaurant at 67 Mott Street, where he says chow mein is "as authentic as you are ".
She serves Cantonese.
Season with thin sauce and not eat meat.
She sneered at the food in Shangcheng.
"You won't get real Zhou Mei unless you come to Chinatown," she declared . ".
"When an American comes in and asks for food, I warn them, 'This is not the kind you get in a residential area.
"When I went further, my fantasy of fedoolas and Tan coats was to track Zhou Min in the drizzle of Chinatown, and when stung by the reality of the city, the streets of the treacherous quickly narrowed down, it's like a terrible sentence from the waiter, "we don't accept MasterCard ".
"I refuse to give in.
On the stairs of Mott Street, the jumping scene is more like this.
The waiter sat at a back table and stuffed the small fish into his mouth with chopsticks.
A cook leaned against the kitchen wall to smoke.
The table was full of silver and white plates, the big man in loose tie and rolled up suit --
While talking, the shirt sleeves shoveled off a fork of food.
According to several people familiar with the matter, hop Kee ate some of the best chow mein in Chinatown.
But Peter Lee, the company's manager, said it was not a big seller.
"We just put it on the menu for the old time," Mr. Lee said.
Since the beginning of the 80 s, demand has dropped to about one order per day, he said.
"It's usually the elderly," he said . "
The waiter put down a plate of dishes and cutlery and then ate a large plate of chicken in spite of everything, and I think he will come back to normal service after unloading the other dishes balanced on his arm. (He didn't. )
Cantonese cuisine is almost the same as Yushan's, but the jumping Americans chose to put dry chicken shreds and hard egg noodles on the sour soup, completely soaked in the cone of the tray.
Is when back to residential area.
At 116 East 57 Street, Bruce Ho, the situation is different.
In this luxurious restaurant, chow mein comes here in the style of shiny metal plates.
A conscientious waiter put dry noodles and rice (say when)
Serve the plate and skillfully pile the stew on it with two spoons in one hand.
Bruce Ho's customers are mostly old customers.
Time New Yorkers, like 65-year-old Steve goldsik, deal with public relations for the New York City Police Foundation.
He used to be a regular visitor to Ruby Foo, one of several Chinese restaurants that flourished on the bustling West 52d Street after World War II.
"This is where I grew up," he said . "
It was disgusting to have a plate of chicken rice.
"In the past, every place you went was Cantonese. The only thing they had was Zhou Mein, Han yuan.
Soup and egg soup, hot and sour sauce, dumplings, Cantonese lobster, shrimp with lobster sauce.
Now you have these places, the first pot, the second pot, the third pot. It's too spicy.
I don't like this. ''Mr.
Ho said: "There are not many places to serve now.
The young waiter didn't even know what it was.
"I want to know what caused the decline and decline of Zhou Ming?
"People have grown up," said Henry nosh, manager of Lee Shun, 43 West 65 Street.
This is an evolutionary thing.
People grow from it.
The people who still ordered it were old Jews on Long Island and they had it when they were young.
They covered the whole thing with duck sauce and soy sauce and thought it was Chinese food.
It has nothing to do with China, but, hey, you're in a Chinese restaurant, that's enough.
"When I stopped by the Midtown pay phone in Zagat's hand, I thought about the ideas.
I'm still not satisfied.
In addition to frustration, I found a floating white canvas sign on a small street with the words "Chinese food" in red.
Even though this unlucky storefront at 11 East 31 Street is not on my list of fewer suspects, I was attracted by it.
My search is over.
I stumbled upon a revelation: a juicy seafood and vegetable stew on a thin fried angel bun at Jianye Express China.
On the table stood proudly filled with containers of Kikkoman soy sauce, bottles of mustard and duck sauce, and a greasy teapot with shabby teacup.
Not only did it taste excellent, but I also stumbled upon a real scene, a holy spot for people addicted to chow mein.
Customers have flocked since a radio commentary six years ago praised its chicken food.
Zhou Min lived very well in health.
"We sell four cans every lunch time," said its owner Chris Fang . ".
"They are looking for delicious chicken food that can't be found in the city. ''Ms. Fong has a B. A.
In biology, but in this narrow room, we fill the memory with a spoon.
Music, fluorescent lights, bare walls and simple tables.
"Everyone who eats it says it reminds them of their parents at home.
Bring beautiful feelings and warm memories.
"It works for me.
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A version of this article appears on page 14014001 of the National edition on November 23, 1997, with the title: Search for Zhou Meain.