Korean? Check.

Chinese? Check.

Singaporean? Check.

Why not just put a big fat sticker on my forehead saying, “AZN PRYDE”. Because that was basically what my Taiwanese housemate and I were trying to infuse into our little Southern belle, Mimi.
Doesn’t she look excited?

You see, I found out that my housemate, Kenny, is kind of a foodie. In fact, this guy has an even more extensive spice rack than I do, and every evening, I’ll enter the main house to find him cooking up some Paprika chicken or lemony pasta. Well, this guy Kenny has connections. He might not have a car (shakes fist), but he has an “uncle” who does.

Now, in Chinese culture (maybe western culture too?) we (I mean they) call any older male “uncle”, or “shu-shu”. Usually this person will be a family friend, and it’s a term of endearment and respect. So Kenny’s “uncle” is not really his uncle by blood, but he might as well be, because apparently Uncle spoils Kenny rotten…and this time, Kenny invited Mimi and me for an afternoon of pampering, too.

And by pampering, I do mean being fed. Not just any food. I’m talking about real, authentic Chinese food, because we were going to go to one of the true Chinese communities of L.A, Arcadia.

Like real budget-conscious students, we took a metro bus.
It was about a 30 minute ride, and throughout the trip, Kenny and I bragged about the fabulosity of real Chinese cuisine. The “Singaporean” side of me reared its “kiasu” head though, as I passionately preached about how Singapore has the best Chinese food:
Now, “Chinese cuisine” is a freaking broad term. It’s not just limited to Hunan or Sze Chuan cuisine, and is most definitely not defined by chop suey and fortune cookies! I originally had this Hong Kong place in mind (highly recommended by Yelp), but when we arrived in Arcadia, Uncle took one look at the place and said, “No! This place sucks! I take you to better one! Yeah?”

Lead away, Uncle. Our gastronomical fate is in your hands.

But of course, for a true Chinese style meal, we needed a huge group, so Uncle also invited his girlfriend, Cindy, and another son of his friend, Chris. Thus the six of us—Uncle, Cindy, “nephew” #1 Kenny, “nephew” #2 Chris, Mimi, and I swarmed into a garish, Cantonese restaurant called Tasty Garden.
I swear, the corny names always sound better in Chinese. I left the menu orders to Uncle and Cindy, which was very unlike me. Usually I’m the one ordering for my group, but this time, I knew I was in the hands of a professional eater.
Well, I was right. Because every single dish that Uncle ordered was great. We first started off with drinks:
This is Hong Kong-syle Iced Coffee with Milk Tea. It is what the name says. Coffee with milk tea? Yes, and it’s genius. You get the kick from the bitter coffee, but toned down considerably with plenty of milk, and the soothing fragrance of Oolong tea. I didn’t order one because I already had a Venti Iced Coffee from Starbucks that morning, and started regretting it.

Then, the food arrived. First, Pan-Fried Shrimp with Egg:
The name does not do it justice. It’s not shrimp with egg. It’s juicy shrimp enveloped in a creamy, rich egg silk. The egg seriously just glides down your throat; it is so smooth and velvety.
This was one of my favorite dishes. But more to come.

Next was Deep-Fried Tofu with Seafood:
Or, in my mind, crispy, creamy tofu custard with crunchy vegetables and smooth white fish. The tofu is the star of this dish, of course, but every other element in here was cooked perfectly, as well. The clear, seafood-infused gravy was rich but not cloying, and the sugar snap peas still retained its bright crunchiness.
This could have been my favorite fish, except it was tofu and what can I say? I’m heavily biased against tofu.

Third dish—House Special Chicken:
Uncle was actually most excited to introduce this dish to us. I think it’s his favorite dish, but it wasn’t mine. It tasted a lot like Hainanese chicken to me, the steamed chicken served in chicken rice, the famous Singaporean dish.
Eh. It wasn’t bad, but I got a particularly bloody piece, and the pimply, leathery skin kind of turns my appetite off. By the way, I don’t know if this is true of all Chinese people, but from my personal experience, they seem to love feeding chicken to people they think need a bit more flesh. “Eat more chicken!” Uncle encouraged me. “You need to get fatter! Here, eat chicken!”

But he was saying a similar thing to Kenny and Mimi too. “Feed the ladies!” he ordered Kenny, gesturing for him to spoon food into our plates. Kenny obliged dutifully, and Mimi and I both accepted the first servings of this Filet Mignon with Mushroom in Black Pepper Sauce:
Mmm…YES! This was AWESOME—the chunks of beef was so tender, so soft, without any trace of stringiness. The sauce was pungent and flavorful, and the mushrooms just soaked up all those juices. The smell was so lovely that I couldn’t even take a decent picture without shaking with anticipation!
But this is when cultures clashed. “Have you ever had beef this tender?” Kenny said proudly.

Mimi lifted her equally proud Southern chin. “Dear,” she said patiently. “I’m from Texas. We know our beef.”

Meanwhile, I rolled my eyes. “Beef, schmeef. Everyone knows Korean galbi is the King of Beef.”

And beside us, Uncle said happily to Chris, “Eat more chicken!”

Anyway. Texan, Chinese, or Korean, cow is freaking awesome when cooked right!

But the following dish was even better, if that’s even possible:
Baby Bok Choy with Shitake Mushroom. Bok choy is one of my favorite vegetables. And shitake! The ones here was really thick, meaty slabs of shitake mushroom, infused with a bold oyster sauce.

And lastly, Pan-Fried Fish Filets with Seasonal Vegetables:
I think the vegetables are Kailan? Who cares? They were beautiful. “We need to balance the fried meat with healthy veggies,” Uncle said, ignoring the fact that the vegetables all came glistening in oil.
The fish in this dish was like velvet. It practically just dissolved in my mouth. I think it was either halibut or tilapia, but I’ve never had white fish so flavorful.

All the above dishes were served family-style. That’s one thing I love about most Chinese meals. We rarely order our own dishes. Instead, there’s always someone who orders for the entire table, and we all share. Usually, I like having autonomy over my meal choices, but I didn’t mind relegating this authority to Uncle, who clearly knows how to eat. And also, he paid. I felt bad, but he was signing the bill before I knew it. Damn fast!

As you can see, the meal was amazing. I don’t understand why this restaurant was 100% Chinese customers. Why don’t other people know about this restaurant? Mimi was the only white gal here! The girl is still proud of her Texan beef, but she agreed that the food was wonderful. Certainly nothing like Panda Express.

After the heavy meal, we all went shopping at a Chinese grocery store, where we all went crazy stocking up on Asian goods. The perfect end to a perfect meal with the perfect company.
Oh, and at the end of the day, all beef culture clash was forgotten when Mimi, Kenny and I all teamed up to convince Chris (who is a high school junior) to forget UCLA and apply to USC. The poor guy couldn’t even mutter “UCLA” without us three glowering at him.
Ah. The beauty and diplomacy of school spirit. And oh, the joy of a well-fed sunny afternoon. Just look at that food belly! Apparently, I could also barely keep my eyes open.