Home With Saigon 39

Restaurant: Saigon 39

Location: 1806 1/2 W. 39th Street, KC MO

Food: Standard Vietnamese

Service: Traditional waitstaff & takeout

Atmosphere: Quiet, friendly, sterile

Price: $10 entrees

Rating: two napkins

I think a lot of people have a favorite takeout restaurant whose food they’ve adopted as akin to their own cooking. Eating this takeout feels just as satisfying, nourishing and comforting as eating mom’s (insert favorite nostalgic food your mother made often when you were growing up). It’s not Friday-night-on-the-town food, it’s lazy Sunday night dinner when it's too hot to cook. Or Tuesday night's “I burnt the chicken casserole” backup. It’s the only restaurant food I would even consider getting after a grueling two week road trip. And for me, it’s Vietnamese food from Saigon 39.

There’s good reason why I specify Saigon as a takeout restaurant. Like an unfortunate number or Asian restaurants in this city, their… facility leaves something to be desired. Sterile atmosphere, cold stone walls… almost no décor to speak of. It's usually quiet and dull when I walk in. So I rarely eat there. Their takeout containers are of a high quality, though, and everything comes tightly packaged up so it transports easily to my house only a few short blocks away. I'm back home in less than five minutes with piping hot food.

The staff has always been friendly in my experience and, over the years, has come to recognize me and my family/friends, too, who also frequent the place. I appreciate the consistent staff and the fact that it's a family-owned business. Over time, I've noticed that many of the other patrons in front of me in the takeout line, too, are regulars who the staff knows and chats with during their short transaction.

As typical with go-to takeout food, I have a few standby menu items I order over and over again: the bright yellow, rich, soupy curry with chicken and vegetables, rice vermicelli noodles with its anchovy sauce, egg noodles and fried rice.

And both the spring rolls and their peanut sauce are the best I've ever had. I certainly understand the viewpoint of others who prefer fewer noodles packed inside, and perhaps thai basil or mint. But Saigon's thick, sticky-fresh rolls with a sprig of cilantro and halved shrimp always start a meal off in a healthy, satisfyingly cool way, drenched in that dark brown, sweet peanut sauce that then runs across the rest of my plate, devilishly soaking into the noodles and rice of my other entrée items.

I recently had the pho which I found to be average. The broth was deliciously flavored with nuances of spice but a little light on the beef flavor. I added hoisin and as much lime and jalapeño as I was given to give it a little more kick, which helped. And the sliced beef itself, though overcooked, was good meat, to be sure. I can certainly see myself coming back to this dish in the winter when soup becomes such a life saver.

The dumplings hit the spot when dumplings are needed. Eight to an order, pan fried and topped with scallions and fried onions, they're as good as any other I've ever had.

Of my four mainstays, the curry, rice vermicelli, egg noodles and fried rice, though, I constantly debate with myself as to which are my top three. Currently the rank is 1) egg noodles, 2) curry and 3) rice vermicelli, but on any given night, that can get all switched around. In each, the veggies always taste fresh, and at a medium-spiciness level they wake up my taste buds and burn in my stomach in a way that perpetuates takeout addiction.

It's not light-the-world-on-fire food but it's good. And coming back to it is as routine as familiar as laying my head down on my pillow at night. It's part of me, at this point, and will be for a long time to come, I'm sure.

Rating: two napkins

Lulu's: New & Improved!

Restaurant: Lulu's Thai Noodle Shop

Location: 2030 Central St., KC MO 

Food: Mostly Thai noodles, some other Asian influences

Service: Traditional waitstaff

Atmosphere: Vibrant lunch, slow dinner

Price: Entrees $9-$14, $7.49 lunch menu

Rating: two napkins

I always kinda liked the old Lulu’s location right there at the bustling Crossroads intersection of Broadway and Southwest Boulevard. Its bright green woodwork beckoned to those yearning for an eclectic spot with good Asian noodle dishes, like me.

Not visible here is a funny sign in the door that
seemingly bans customers from bringing in durian,
a notoriously stinky Asian fruit banned many places
in the East.

But I had the same complaints about the place that so many others did: too small, too crowded at lunch and nowhere to sit or stand while waiting for a table. Let’s face it; you had to get there before 11:30 to have any chance of leaving before 1:00.

So it was with notable optimism that I watched and waited for this new location to open, just a half block southeast of the original on Central. What else would the “new Lulu’s” have in store… a new menu? New vibe? New clientele?

Yes, there really are those creepy giant
gold fish in there.

Last week I checked out the new location for the first time with a group of friends from the office, a particularly apt method of investigation as it’s always been more of a lunch place for me than dinner. Don’t get me wrong, they’re open for dinner – always have been – but with few other restaurants around it and living as close to the Plaza, Westport and 39th Street as I do, I just don’t tend to head that direction at night as often as I do during the lunch hour when I’m already downtown.

First things first: the favorites from the old menu are still there and some new features have livened it up (I'm particularly excited about the Thai Street Foods section—Gai-Yang, anyone?). So if you liked their food before, you still will. And if not, you’re out of luck. But who didn’t like it? It’s one of the few places in town where one can get Thai food, period, the ingredients are fresh and tasty, there are several seriously spicy options for the heat freaks and the prices are good. Better than the competition, by far, and the food just as good if not better. Get on board, I say.

Lamp shades are upside down woks. Clever!

The new space: upgrade. For sure. Walking in, lunchers are greeted by a new host’s stand and three rows of benches, in case crowds start to form. This Lulu’s is built for speed, which benefits their business and their customers’ sensibilities. Moreover, there’s now a zen-inspired koi pond up front which should offset the angst of hungry stomachs with a soothing sense of calm.

Six person booths are fun. So are the bright walls.

Plush it is not, but why should it be? What once was a bombed out brick warehouse is now a brightly painted, bustling dining room. With concrete floors and brick and cinder block walls, there’s not much sound absorption going on, but it isn’t deafeningly loud, either. I liked that, looking around, there was no doubt I was in a Thai restaurant, yet it was a fun Thai restaurant. To me, more enjoyable than, say, Thai Place in Westport.

Vietnamese spring rolls. Not worth it.

Our group was seated in a wide booth, easily accommodating the six of us. We started with crab Rangoon – some of the best in town – and Vietnamese Spring Rolls—some of the worst in town. The crab Rangoon aren’t over-stuffed with cheese and actually have a bit of a crab flavor, giving them a leg up on 90% of the other Rangoon served in KC. The spring rolls here, on the other hand, are still totally flavorless. The yellow peanut sauce with which they’re served hints at peanut but is otherwise too diluted. And all that vermicelli and rice paper are so filling, I instantly regretted eating them.

Crab Rangoon. Worth it.

Lunch that day was a classic from the old Lulu’s menu: Drunken Noodles, from the $7.49 Lunch Specials list. This is the type of meal I could eat almost every day of the week. A warm bowl comes filled with a bed of wide rice noodles which are stir fried with Thai basil, peanuts, bean sprouts, scallions, Chinese broccoli, lemongrass, green and red peppers and egg. You can count on the veg to be perfectly crisp-tender and this dish, in particular, packs a lot of varied flavors… sweet, salty, bitter, acid, umami… it’s a delight in the mouth.

Look how they stuff so many fresh veg
into this bowl of Drunken Noodles.

My second trip, dinner with Elizabeth, yielded a totally different experience. Different vibe altogether. It was quiet. We weren’t the only diners there, but the larger, partitioned space separated us from each other to the extent that we felt alone. Service was prompt and attentive, the food good, but there was a depressing sterility in the air. The new space is not drawing a new dinner crowd, apparently.

Our dinner started with spring rolls, again, despite my pleading for dumplings. Elizabeth regretted her decision immediately, taking a big bite and then proclaiming the peanut sauce to be terrible. We’ve completely written them off now. But what lacked in our app was made up for with our two delicious entrees.

I tried the Banh Mi, not recognizing it from the menu of old. I was shocked at its size (mammoth, approximately). A heap of ground pork filled a long, soft baguette and came topped with daikon, carrot, cilantro, cucumber and plenty of sriracha aioli. Sweet and salty pork, crisp, sweet veggies, spicy aioli, bright, citusy cilantro… it all played so nicely together. Worth every penny of its $7.79 price.



I was surprised Elizabeth and I both wanted the Pad Num Mun Hoy, as we’re not big Chinese sauce fans, and the menu touts this dish as Pan-seared egg noodles, green beans, mushrooms and broccoli in a Chinese inspired brown sauce ($10.29). But we got it and we loved it. Here again the veggies were cooked perfectly. Crunchy, softened just a little. The noodles were springy and the sauce, though, yes, a dark brown, sweet, sugary substance, wasn’t too goopy or thick. It brought everything together deliciously.

Between Pad Num Mun Hoy and the Drunken Noodles, I’m a bigger fan of the Drunken, but I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend the Chinese-inspired Pad to anyone.

So I’m applying the valid clichés: Lulu’s is back and better than ever. New look, same great taste. They’ve cured the most egregious of its former faults (lunch rush overwhelmed-ness) but will have to keep working on the sparse dinner crowd.

Rating: two napkins

Po's: I Recommend the Dumplings

Restaurant: Po's Dumpling Bar
Location: 1715 W. 39th St., KC MO
Food: Above-average KC Chinese
Service: Incredibly friendly
Atmosphere: Too quiet but nicer than many other Chinese places in KC
Price: Entrees starting at $9.95
Rating: one napkin

Po's is, if nothing else, a better option for Chinese in KC. I haven't got a ton to say about it in this review because my recent trip there was mostly what I expected, and most people would. The food was decent. The restaurant was the typical hush-hush, sterile atmosphere, cleaner and more contemporary feeling than the likes of Szechuan down the street but not as alive or vibrant as Blue Koi to the West. But it's a solid, and for Chinese restaurants in KC, that means something.




What's always appealed to me about Po's is that it calls itself a dumpling bar. I love dumplings and often leave Chinese restaurants wishing I'd eaten just dumplings instead of a gloppily sauced plateful of veggies. That sentiment held true after this recent trip.

Our Cha Su Buns were incredible. If you've not had these deliciously fluffy, yet sticky pork buns, the flavor is, surprisingly, close to that of a pig-in-a-blanket... slightly sweet pork, piping hot and steaming inside a puff ball dumpling purse. Two of them come served in a metal steamer dish like little clouds of perfection. They're a must-have on the starter menu.

Also from the starter menu, we ordered the Emperor's Dumplings - pork - which come six to an order, pan fried. [I don't understand why people get steamed dumplings when the pan friend ones have such an incredible crunch on the spots where the wrapper touches the pan, contrasting with the rest which is wonderfully chewy and soft.] These dumplings, with special dipping sauce on the side, did not disappoint either. They come in a little pinched taquito shape, as opposed to the half-moon you see so often, and were surprisingly filling.

Our other starter was Elizabeth's Tofu Vegetable Soup. Its delicate, umami-flavored broth came with pretty bits of broccoli, mushrooms, bamboo shoots, scallions and silky soft tofu. It was light yet flavorful. Nothing feels quite as therapeutic as does eating a light Asian soup like this. Its earthy, unctuous aroma imparts a certain satisfaction of the soul.

Our entree of hunan chicken was fine, though seemingly identical to what one could probably get at any other Chinese restaurant in town. Crisp tender steamed veggies and a huge portion of cooked chicken came coated in a dark sauce. Its flavors were fine but this dish din't carry the same enjoyment as the starters, upholding my theory that if I'd stick to the dumplings and soups, I'd be a bigger fan of Chinese restaurants. But it was plentiful, and for that I was glad.

Next time I go to Po's, it'll be for one purpose: dumpling bonanza. The entrees are fine and I do want to point out that their website features a "New Chinese Authentic Dishes" section, which speaks volumes to their dedication to the type of food they make and serve, but the real treat here are those soft little pillows of joy. With this kind of food, a nice looking dining room and incredibly friendly service, it's hard not to like Po's. Sure, a little music, additions to the decor and a more assertive service approach would be nice, but it's definitely an enjoyable place as is.

Rating: one napkin

A Hellish Return to P.F. Chang's

Restaurant: P. F. Chang's China Bistro
Location: 102 W. 47th St., KC, MO
Food: Sweet, gooey, unauthentic Chinese
Service: Inexcusably, ridiculously bad
Atmosphere: Sleazy chain
Price: No matter what you get and what it costs, you'll end up feeling like it was overpriced.
Rating: zero napkins

I have to admit that it was extremely difficult for me to approach this dining experience at P. F. Chang's without bias. I have a short and largely unceremonious history with the place, to put it lightly. (To put it more accurately, I hate P. F. Chang's.)

To be fair, I'll give context to my disdain: I think P. F. Chang's has the most uncomfortable sort of feel emanating from its every visible detail. From the unanimously inept, up-sell-scripted waitstaff, to the sloppy service and food, its vibe absolutely screams "we're a sleazy chain!" Watch what's going on around you and you're sure to pick up on any number of atrocities that ruin the restaurant-going experience. But to be specific, the catalyst of my true ire for P. F. Chang's was a particular night gone terribly, but typically, wrong, in which Elizabeth and I sat for 45 minutes without ever receiving any service whatsoever, despite making eye contact and speaking with servers and hostesses on numerous occasions, resulting in us deciding to get up and leave without ordering.

Now, for those skeptics reading, know that we both are exceedingly lenient restaurant customers. I don't judge restaurants heavily at all on their service, because I think service can vary widely depending on the one or two people in charge of your experience on a given trip. Servers and hosts come and go in the restaurant industry with a rapid turnover rate, so I don't believe one should place too much emphasis on that aspect of their experience at a restaurant. But at Chang's, it's always been bad.

What the heck, then, brought us back at Happy Hour this day? I read a post on Fat City that the KC P. F. Chang's was going to debut a new Happy Hour menu that, if well-received, would be rolled out to the rest of the country. (I found the inherent insult of Chang's market partner Mark Kirke's comment that "The Kansas City palate was a draw. If it goes over well here, it will extend well to the coast, as opposed to vice versa," to be a challenge I had to accept.)

So after a movie on the Plaza and then a stiflingly-hot walk down to restaurant, we seated ourselves at a high top table in the bar area, asked for a couple ice waters and perused the new Yum Cha menu. Immediately, the flaws started piling up.

First, a technicality: "Yum Cha is a dining experience which involves drinking Chinese tea and eating dim sum dishes (wikipedia)." Its literal Cantonese translation is "drink tea." Yet, there's no tea on the supposed Yum Cha happy hour menu. Thus, I'm led to believe Chang's must have made the decision that this selection of handrolls and flatbreads, which should simply be called dim sum,  needed an exotic, less-familiar title in order to sell... cultural accuracy be damned.

The Yum Cha menu is like a do-it-yourself sushi menu with the selections listed on a piece of paper that guests mark with a provided pencil. We quickly put a "1" next to the top three hand rolls listed.  When our server (finally) came to take our order, she noticed we were going with the Yum Cha menu and asked that we please fill out the provided survey before we leave that captures diners' thoughts on the experience. Placing that aside, we watched her pour our ice waters, which she managed to drip all over my phone.

Elizabeth ordered a cold glass of Pinot Grigio - appropriate for the current weather - which was brought back after an acceptable wait, in an unacceptably dirty glass. She held it up in the light between us, and I could hardly see her through its dingy sides. She used her napkin for the next few minutes to wipe it down and we prayed the alcohol would kill any caked on germs, not yet ready to cut our losses and haul our keisters out of there.

The hand rolls (mamenori), though not incredible, were easily the best part of the entire experience. At three for $7.95, we felt they were a tad overpriced. Six dollars would seem perfect, making them $2 per roll. They're fairly small in size, so even eating all three one won't be filled up. And given the other happy hour specials available on the plaza, $7.95 doesn't seem competitive (for instance, I can go right next door to M&S Grill and have fish tacos or a Pizza Margherita for just $3.95).

Each comes in a colorful soy wrapper, a little papery in texture, but they melt in your mouth. The first came with poached shrimp, strips of cucumber, lettuce and a big glob of sriracha-infused mayo. Its spiciness was nice, but the mayo completely drenched the otherwise fresh and delicate ingredients. The second was by far the best - pink chunks of ahi tuna with shallots, chives, light sesame oil, lime juice, smoked black pepper, cucumber strips and butter lettuce. The only thing wrong with this delicious roll was our fear that the restaurant's lack of cleanliness might have tainted the raw fish. Otherwise, we loved the lightness of it, the brightness... it was like a hand-held tuna ceviche salad.

The last of the rolls was the most substantial - nicely done shredded duck confit with lots of rice noodles and tons of crispy bacon bits which were apparently sugar coated and overwhelmingly sweet. Also in this wrap were parsley infused oil, tiny bites of pineapple, sweet soy peanuts, butter lettuce, other herbs and sweet soy drizzle. If this sounds like a lot of stuff, it was. Too much. This wrap needed some serious editing and to be lightened up, overall. With so much bacon and sauce amongst the noodles and overpowered greens, what should have been a nice spring roll-esque wrap turned into a bit of a gut bomb lacking in Asian influence.

Thank goodness the plates we were given only served the role of catching fallen ingredients from the mamenori, because they, too, were dingy with fingerprints and what was, at best, soap scum and at worst, remnants of someone else's meal.

Once the rolls and wine were gone, we were, too. The comments we left on the survey admitted we would have the mamenori again, but listed the above criticisms of the recipes and price. I'd imagine whoever picked it up and read it merely rolled their eyes and then went back to diligently ignoring their other job responsibilities and customers.

I still say folks should avoid this restaurant at all costs, but the new Yum Cha menu and its hand rolls are not the reason. It's everything else you'll experience there that'll disturb you. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Rating: zero napkins

Banh Mi For Me

Happy Gillis turned me on to banh mis, which are basically just Vietnamese sandwiches of meat or tofu topped with sweetened crunchy vegetables. Theirs features delicious pork meatballs, which are unwaveringly juicy and undoubtedly high in fat. So when Elizabeth and I stumbled upon a recipe for a marinated tofu banh mi, we decided to substitute the tofu (not quite as satisfying as real meat in our collective opinion) with lean white chicken meat. ...It was a great move! And to make this sandwich into a hearty dinnertime meal, we coupled it with chef David Chang's famous Momofuku Ssam Bar Brussels sprouts with rice crispies (from Food and Wine). Here are the recipes:



Our Chicken Banh Mis 
(cooking light's version)
Ingredients
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken tenderloins
2 tbsp low-sodium soy sauce
2 tsp finely grated peeled fresh ginger
1/3 cup rice vinegar
1/4 cup sugar
1 tsp kosher salt
1 1/4 cups (3-inches) matchstick-cut carrot
1 cup sliced shiitake mushroom caps
1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1 julienned green onion
1 cucumber peeled, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced (about 2 cups)
2 tbsp canola oil
2 sandwich baguettes
1/2 cup fresh cilantro sprigs
1 jalapeno pepper, thinly sliced
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1 tsp sriracha

Preparation

Combine soy sauce and ginger in a baking dish. Add chicken. Cover with plastic wrap and place in refrigerator overnight. 

Combine vinegar, sugar and salt in a medium bowl, stirring until sugar and salt dissolve. Add carrot and next four ingredients (through cucumber); toss well. Let stand 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Pour carrot mixture through a sieve; drain thoroughly.

Heat oil in a grill pan over medium-high heat. Remove chicken from marinade; discard marinade. Sautee four minutes on each side, or until golden and cooked through.

Halve and toast bread. Meanwhile, in a small bown, combine mayo and sriracha. Stir well until mixture is well combined and a consistent orange color.

Remove toasted bread. Spread desired amount of mayo mixture on the bread halves. Top with chicken, then carrot mixture, cilantro and jalapeno slices. Top with other slice of bread.

David Chang's Spicy Brussels Sprouts with Mint from Momofuku Ssam Bar

Ingredients
(Food and Wine Magazine Recipe)

2 tbsp vegetable oil

1/2 cup Rice Krispies 

1/4 tsp togarashi or cayenne pepper (I actually use a dollop of sambal oelek which is totally different, but does a nice job of adding spice and chili flavor)

Kosher salt

1/4 cup Asian fish sauce

2 tbsp water

2 tbsp sugar

1 tbsp rice vinegar

1 tbsp fresh lime juice

1 small garlic clove, minced

1 small red chile, minced

1/4 cup chopped cilantro

2 tbsp chopped mint

4 cups roasted or broiled brussels sprouts (about 2 pounds), halved lengthwise (I actually have boiled them before and that works fine, too, though they can turn out a  little too mushy if you overdo it.)

Directions

In a large skillet, heat 1 tbsp of the oil until shimmering. Add the Rice Krispies and sambal (or togarashi or cayenne) and cook over high heat, stirring, until browned, about 30 seconds. Season with salt. Transfer to a plate and wipe out the skillet.

In a small bowl, combine the fish sauce, water, sugar, rice vinegar, lime juice, garlic and chile and stir until the sugar is dissolved. Add the cilantro and mint.

Add the remaining 1 tbsp of oil to the skillet and heat until nearly smoking. Add the brussels sprouts; cook over high heat, stirring, until charred in spots and heated through, about 5 minutes. Transfer to a bwol and toss with the vinaigrette. Just before serving, sprinkle the Rice Krispies on top and serve right away.

Three Mongoloids Pillage Genghis Khan

Restaurant: Genghis Khan Mongolian Grill
Location: 3906 Bell St., KC MO
Food: Traditional Mongolian Barbecue
Service: Simple & Friendly
Atmosphere: Lively, homey, entertaining
Price: Average for buffet, but a little high for my liking
Rating: one napkin

Let me start by saying I went to Genghis Khan a few years ago and left mostly unimpressed. I remember thinking my dish turned out to be unexpectedly bland, yet it cost more than I'd expected. I knew I was probably to blame for this more than anything, though. After all, at a Mongolian grill, the diner assembles his/her own bowl of ingredients. It's only the cooking that's left up to the restaurant's staff. So when my friend Andrew asked if we had a Mongolian Barbecue in Kansas City while we were trying to think of dinner ideas Saturday night, a light bulb went off in my head. It was time to return and give this place a fair shake.

Located at 39th and Bell, just south of d'Bronx, I found the dining room more inviting and cozy than I remembered it. The exposed brick walls and aged hard wood floors were exceedingly cozy and inviting. The perpetual searing and steaming of meat and veggies on the flat-topped grill dispersed an invisible fog of warmth and inviting aroma that filled our chests and piqued our dormant appetites.



The friendly hostess promised us our wait would be short despite a full dining room, and she was right. After allowing me just enough time to walk back outside and capture a couple photos of the front of the building, we were seated in a booth at the back of the restaurant, which probably would have been where I'd have chosen if I was given my pick from the whole place. Great spot. The window on my left looked out over the insanely busy parking lot behind the restaurant, and to my right were the rest of the diners, happy, raucously conversing and laughing. It had that sense of universal contentment throughout.

In no time we were back out of our seats and loading woefully small bowls with our raw ingredients. I was slightly disappointed that so many were over-cooled and frozen, but it was better than the (health code violating) alternative of an overly warm buffet line. So just a minor infraction. Into my bowl I hurriedly piled sliced mushrooms, cabbage, jalapeno, cilantro, carrots, bean sprouts, water chestnuts and thin slices of celery. I was positively thrilled with the veggie choices on hand.

On top of the veg I piled delightfully yellow egg noodles - a modest portion though my egg noodle-crazy appetite screamed at me to double, nay triple the amount I first took. On top of the noodles I added thinly sliced raw pork and delicious looking bright white squid segments from the protein selections, and if you like squid don't miss out. I loved having it in my dish.

Following the recipe for a spicy sauce, I ladled into my bowl a base of liquids including, but not limited, to soy sauce, sesame oil, sugar water, ginger water, garlic and some kind of chili paste. Truthfully, I can't remember what-all was involved, but the ingredients are listed for the convenience of confused diners on the sneeze guard above the bowls. [I remembered that on my last trip, the sauce component was where I thought I had failed... my dish had turned out bland and dry, Confused by the myriad of sauce choices in front of me and not cognizant of the recipe listed literally right under my nose, I limited my selection to a single inadequate ladle of soy sauce. More experienced in Asian cooking now ("experienced" used lightly here), this omission of flavored liquids seems preposterous and somewhat embarrassing.]

The final ingredient choice to diners after saucing is that of egg or no. I elected to add it - an essential to stir fry of any kind in my mind.

Then I stood back and what the two grill masters quickly but expertly sautee my ingredients to perfection. Truly, their method of quick-searing and then spreading out the ingredients to ensure meats are in direct contact with the grill so as to cook through, is carried out with a good amount of skill. I was beyond eager to dig in when they handed my steaming bowl of flat top bbq back to me.

A quick stop to the dessert and sides table in the middle of the floor for a crab rangoon and fried spring roll and then we ceased communication in lieu of face down, hog-to-trough style food inhalation. I may not have even used my fork. It's hard to remember.

What I do remember is that I'd nailed the sauce and ingredients. The whole dish was fiendishly salty and spicy. The squid was nicely chewy, but not overcooked tot the point of rubberiness. The pork had picked up a lot of flavor from the sauces and packed more color and flavor than I'd expected. The water chestnuts and celery added a woody, nutty crunch I loved, almost like croutons in a lettuce salad. My noodles were incredibly fresh tasting, also chewy but rich and soft, too. Altogether, a fantastic plateful of ingredients bursting and popping off each other with flavor and texture differences that played like a fireworks show in my mouth.

We'd hit the nail on the head, here. The right restaurant for the type of appetite and mood we all had at that moment in time.

The one and only serious drawback I'd point out about Genghis Khan was the buffet factor. I mentioned the slightly frozen ingredients earlier, which gave me the slightest impression the ingredients were not quite as fresh as they could have been. But more than that, the price of buffets annoys me. It's completely understandable that, given the amount of sport eating in which their regular customers engage, per-head pricing needs to be high to ensure a profit. But I was satisfied with one plate of food. Didn't even need to consider returning for more. Yet I left feeling like I'd paid for more than what I ate.

The dichotomy there annoys me thusly, 1) I paid for more than I got, and 2) bad mental imagery related to the phrase "all you can eat" inevitably runs through my mind in relation to buffets. ...Memories of painful, sickening regret after over-indulging on luke-warm slices of greasy pizza, softened, dried chicken fingers tasting of hot stainless steel containers, ranch dressing mingling with black cherry jello and melting chocolate ice cream in a freshly washed cafeteria cup, still warm and wet from the dishwasher, smelling of industrial-strength Sysco detergent. These are the buffet memories lingering in my psyche from childhood experiences at the likes of Valentino's Pizza, Bonanza and Sirloin Stockade. I just can't shake 'em.

So, take away my neurotic willies related to buffets, lower the price a smidge (I'd pay $10 for one plate happily instead of $15 for all I can eat), and keep the ingredients from becoming frostbitten and this place has some serious appeal. Great atmosphere, fun for all kinds of diners, groups to dates, simple but good service and delicious plates of happiness. We came, we saw, we conquered.

Rating: one napkin

Finally Went to Vietnam

Restaurant: Vietnam Cafe
Location: 522 Campbell St, KC MO
Food: Good, cheap pho and other Vietnamese classics
Service: Brisk, friendly
Atmosphere: A step up from typical KC Asian restaurant
Price: Cheap! Fill up for fast food prices.
Rating: One napkin


When it comes to Asian takeout, we all have our favorites. Recently I was chided for proclaiming that I was faithful to Saigon 39 in Westport, though, and it ended up finally pushing me out of my comfort zone.

When I asked my challenger for a better recommendation, he gave me the answer I was expecting to hear - the place that so many people have now told me is the best in town but I hadn't considered seriously enough to try - Vietnam Cafe in Columbus Park.So, after staying late at work one night last week, and knowing I was on my own for dinner, I decided to hit this place up for takeout on the way home.



After a quick perusal of reviews and recommendations on Yelp, the Pitch and other sites, I decided on some kind of soup. Someone had brought the spicy beef back from a lunch break recently and it looked delicious, so I made it my pick.

The friendly gal who answered the phone took my order promptly and hung up - didn't even ask my name. So I hastily buzzed over to be sure no one else was given my soup by accident before I could retrieve it. I've heard this joint gets very busy during the lunch rush and on weekends but lucky for me there were only a few diners there when I arrived. The dining room had a pleasant feel to it and the folks sitting there eating were smiling and laughing. They looked like regulars, very comfortable with the setting, almost like it was their own dining room. I like that.

I also like that you see so many Asian people eating here. There is a growing pocket of Asian families living in Columbus Park and the river market area now, evidenced by the handful of Asian grocers that have popped up in the area over the last few years. And just like any big city where ethnic groups settle together, everyone benefits from the establishments they form to cater to their own traditions... like great, authentic restaurants.

As I paid my cash and picked up my takeout containers, I was shocked by their weight. These were full dishes and I'd only paid $6.50 plus tax! The cloudy brown broth smelled scrumptious and had a slight amount of bright orange oil in it from the beef that provided its flavor.

I assembled the dish by first placing a heap of rice noodles in the bottom of my bowl - thick and slightly chewy, soon to be saturated with the flavors of my beef broth. I then layered on the thinly sliced beef, a huge slice of Fresno pepper (red jalapeno), the sliced veggies - cabbage, carrot and more, dropped in a big sprig of cilantro, and poured on the broth to cover it all. My box o' ingredients also came with a massive branch of purple-stemmed Thai basil that filled the room with a wonderful fresh scent. I decided that I didn't need it in my dish but was impressed that it was provided. Given its size, they must have grown it themselves, perhaps on the restaurant premises.

So how was it? Hot, satisfying, only slightly spicy, and fresh, through and through. Still, overall, I'd have to say pretty average. That's not a bad thing when it comes to Pho, I just wasn't completely blown away, the way I was told I would. Would I drive the extra distance to get this over my usual at Saigon 39? Probably not. But I'll certainly return for a cheap lunch on a regular basis now, since it's close to the office and there are groups who make the jaunt almost every day.

The food is good, the prices are great, the atmosphere is actually pretty decent... all in all a solid pick. Glad I went.

Rating: one napkin

Limp Noodles (& Company)

The McDonald's on the corner of Jefferson and Nichols on the Plaza recently closed down and some time later, a new chain boasted its upcoming opening. Noodles & Company was its name.

I wasn't familiar with the place and when remarking to Elizabeth that I had found out its name, I distinctly remember adding, "I sure hope it's an Asian noodle place and not some kind of one-noodle-fits-all joint."

"Ew," she added. "I bet they just have a huge vat of overcooked spaghetti in the back and they just throw in some kind of sauce or topping depending on what you get."

Alas. We were pretty much right.

Elizabeth had to work late the other night and we didn't have any leftovers on hand for me to make. So I decided to find out what Noodles & Co was really all about and get some takeout. The menu boasts all types of noodles, not just one nationality. Choose from Asian, Mediterranean, American or "Customize-it".

I honed in on the "American" section for investigatory reasons, skeptical that America had made contributions to the noodle world noteworthy enough to warrant its own section on the menu. What would this be? Tuna noodle casserole? Close.

The only noodle dish on the American list that was actually what I would call American was Wisconsin Mac 'n Cheese. Noodles & Co, though, would like to credit the US of A for Stroganoff (Russian), Marinara and good ol' Spaghetti and Meatballs (Italian). Maybe even more ridiculous was the fact that "buttered noodles" was also listed on the menu. I mean - really? Do you even need to put that on the menu? If people want buttered noodles, they'll just ask if they can get plain buttered noodles. Listing it on the menu, though, conveys the idea that buttered noodles are some great recipe idea the restaurant came up with. As if they're saying, "we specialize in stroganoff, marinara and, oh, you should really try our house special - buttered noodles! You've never had anything like them." But, of course, you have. Everyone has.

Getting down to business, I jumped over to the Asian menu. I was in the mood for Asian and fearing their pad thai may be horrendous (bad pad thai can be really bad - too sweet, often), I opted for the Indonesian Peanut Saute. Let's start with the positives: the carryout packaging was sturdy and convenient, the portion was large but not ridiculously so, fresh lime wedges were provided as a garnish, to spritz over the top of the noodles, which I love.

Moving on. The bad: the lime was utterly and completely without juice. When I squeezed it over the top, it frayed and shredded, disintegrating into a pathetic rind with a strange explosion of fibrous pulp hanging from it and immediately reminding me of Clark Griswold cutting into the Christmas turkey which immediately deflated on the dining room table. Sick.

The toppings were a melange of the usual suspects: bean sprouts, broccoli and carrot sticks, which I am happy to say were all nice and crisp. Not overcooked. Lots of shredded cabbage was mixed through, and due to the terrarium effect caused by the tight lid trapping steam, its deep purple color washed out and spread itself into the noodles in a disconcerting way that made me wonder if it had been painted purple for faux freshness. The peanut sauce was detectable, but a little thin. I was given no condiments, and due to a low salt content, I felt it needed a little soy sauce. No hot sauce either, so I hit it with a few dollops of my own sambal oelek when I opened it up at home.

Peanuts were non-existent. None whatsoever. Luckily, I had those on hand, as well. So once I had incorporated my own peanuts, my own lime, my own sambal and my own soy sauce, it was ready to be eaten (oh, and I employed my own chopsticks, too - none provided).

The rice sticks (noodles) were overcooked. Quite mushy and falling apart. And the peanut sauce lacked depth, severely. Tasted like they had just mixed some peanut butter into the noodles which, when heated, became thin enough to coat the noodles like a sauce.

I'd opted to add chicken to mine, to test the quality of their meats. It was all-white meat, apparently pounded thin and then pan seared with a little flour dusting on it (I'm guessing this preparation is done because it works better with the Italian-style menu items and they're not into the idea of having to prepare chicken in more ways than one). There were no bad bites, but it was very bland, adding nothing but some protein to the dish. The fried tofu chunks I also found in my noodles were spongy and flavorless, as well, but that's kind of how fried tofu is.

Eventually I choked down the whole bowl, so apparently it wasn't the worst thing I'd ever eaten. But in the end I wish I had made the effort to run by the grocery store and pick up a few ingredients to make it myself instead of taking the lazy route and settling for mass-produced garbage.

While picking up, I also grabbed one of the large cookies sitting next to the register. Forced to choose between chocolate chip or snicker doodle, I went with snicker doodle just because I don't come across them as often, and I usually find them hugely delicious.

Shame on me for not noticing the specs of apple before arriving back at home. I was willing to keep an open mind about the apple, but one bite in, the disappoint swept over me. A snicker doodle isn't a snicker doodle with fruit in it. It's got to be simpler than that. Cookie batter, cinnamon and sugar on top. That's it. The apple made it taste like coffee cake - not what I wanted after my meal.

Pretty easy to rate this place. I won't go back unless forced to as a work lunch outing or something. If a McDonald's couldn't make it in this location, I don't expect that Noodles & Co. will. It's less convenient than McDonald's, has a higher cost of operation (they even have a liquor license!?!), and, despite trying to cover every type of noodle dish under the sun, probably has less mass-appeal as well. Those looking for any measure of quality would do better to walk a block east to Brio. Or buy a pack of Ramen Noodles - more authentic, more tasty, less expensive and you have the ability to ensure your noodles don't just turn into a big clump of mush.

Rating: zero napkins