Crazy Susan
In today’s economic climate, change seems to be the only constant, especially in the cutthroat restaurant industry. Not so for that handful of quirky joints who exist happily on another plane. La Palma Chicken Pie Shop comes to mind. A certain venerable Mandarin restaurant is another.
House-made pickles.
I could just as easily be in Wan Chai as Westminster as I duck in off the street into the austere L-shaped twelve-table Peking Restaurant in a dilapidated strip mall. It remains exactly as it was when I reviewed it for OC Weekly in 2002, and likely for the two decades it was open before that. No gaudy gilded dragon décor here, their money is in stress-bearing lazy susans that can support off-axis eccentric loads at maximum weight limits.
Roasted beef with green onion pancake.
It’s essential to start with the house-made pickle, a crisp slightly sweet Mandarin amuse-bouche awash in chili and sesame oil. Thin, multi-feuille pancake flecked with green onions and layered with roast beef is next. The bread is chewy and delicate, the beef tender and fragrant with star anise.
Mancake.
Next, the requisite Kuo-Tieh dumplings, golden brown pan-fried sampans with a moist savory filling of leek, pork and cabbage complimented by a dab of chili sauce.
Have you had your Kuo-Tieh quota?
From here its your call. I prefer to put myself in the capable hands of Julie Chen. Partial to embroidered vests, this sprite of a woman turns tables as fast as her nephew, Jerry Chen can deliver the dumplings.
House-made Singapore noodles.
As blistered straight beans with black bean sauce, sliced mild white fish with a topping of crispy yellow beans, tender, lightly-fried salt and pepper shrimp and pan fried house-made Singapore noodles arrived, we heard the unmistakable clicking crackle of Hungry Hungry Hippos in the background.
It indeed was the Hasbro board game making a perfect low-tech activity at an adjacent table that was nearly drowned out by all the other lively cacaphony. Note to self: never cancel a Peking restaurant date due to babyysitter failure.
Last night, while nursing a couple of Tsingtaos, we watched the dozen tables fill up in 20 minutes creating a small wait outside. One guy with a newspaper was willing to make his base at the table filled with stand-by chopsticks and soup spoons next to the the cash register. Chef Jerry Chen makes a yearly pilgrimage to Bejing to learn traditional tricks of the trade. Here’s hoping the lazy susans can withstand the punishment.
8566 Westminster Blvd. Westminster, CA 92683 (714) 893-3020. Closed Monday.
