We turned the corner at San Gabriel Boulevard and Valley, and were astounded to see 2 miles of high rise shopping plazas, each one a kind of multi-story strip mall, most in the common Californish architectural style of cheezy Spanish Revival. And each plaza, a palate of competing neon, all of it in Chinese. Dorothy, you are not in Los Angeles anymore. Unlike it's predecessors, the original downtown Chinatown, a ghost town at night, with its great kitchy pagaoda style buildings, or Monterey Park to the east off the 10, where low slung strip malls intermix with the occasional big white building holding a seafood palace, San Gabriel the next stop on the Chinese immigrant chain heading east, seems most like another city, Shanghai perhaps or Beijing, a blur of bright colors and signs, and throngs of people walking the streets on a Sunday night. At first glance all those signs look like restaurants but on closer examination, there are dentist offices, and tea shops, and lawyers, furniture, jewelry, clothing stores, and at the far end a multi-story Hilton Hotel. You could get off a plane, check in and never have to use a word of English. We are definitely talking english as a second language territory. And in the newest version of questionable labor practices, foot massage parlors abound where for the inexplicable price of $15 someone will massage your feet and back for an hour. And the places were packed at 9 pm on Sunday.
We were here to meet friends for Chinese food, but after a short walk around, the question becomes what kind of Chinese food...Shanghai, Hunan, Hong-Kong Style, and if that is not enough Japanese options like Tepanaki, Ramen noodle houses and Shabu. And everybody seems to be doing brisk business. There were at least 200 places to eat in that 2 mile stretch. I was thinking about checking into the Hilton myself and just eating my way up and down the street.
The difference between eating Chinese here and Pasadena (perhaps the last Caucasian bastion in the San Gabriel Valley) is that in Pasadena the choice is between expensive and cheap Chinese, but region is not even an option. As someone who has always shuddered a bit when someone orders their fried rice and orange chicken, it was kind of amazing that not even 6 miles from my house there was food so authentic I have never even heard of it or seen it.
At Green Valley, a Shanghai style place which our favorite critic Jonathon Gold gave a thumbs up to, we were confronted with an completely new menu and a waiter who didn't speak enough English to translate. My favorite, stewed chicken and chesnuts, couldn't be further from almond chicken, simmered in a hot pot in a terrific brown sauce. The downside, no won ton soup which I promised my daughter I'd bring home. No problem, made a quick stop at "Tasty" on the first floor,which specializes in fruit custard desserts but also has a noodle soup menu, and we were headed back home with our soup. And the best part, while we were waiting we watched some Chinese rock star who along with his back up dancers got his styling tips from early Pat Benatar meets Liberace with metal studded ripped t-shirts the main look. This guy could be huge in China, or perhaps he is just their Clay Aiken. We'll never know.
On the way out we had to take a quick drive through a huge shopping plaza, with a Ranch 99 and a New Capital Restaurant, an old favorite from Arcadia that vanished, and now we know why and where. There is a lot more competition down here but the number of people eating, shopping and strolling, more than offsets that. Being here made me think about how we have this singular view of China, when it is a huge country with disparate regions both in terms of language and culture. If you come down to San Gabriel, you won't find a Panda Inn so you better do some research and know what kind of food you want. We'll be back. Hong Kong is calling.
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