Panda Wok and Woll

I am addicted to Asian food.  I am ashamed to say that I passed this addiction on to my daughters (The Foodie and Princess) while they were in the womb. As hard as I try, I can only go about a week without something with soy sauce on it.  Invariably, almost every weekend--especially when one of the girls are home--a low and strong craving builds until I have to pay a visit to one of my favorites like Asia Bistro or Green Papaya for some General Tso's Chicken with Hot and Sour soup or the like. Sometimes I am so anxious, I don't use the chopsticks.

After going this past Sunday afternoon without Asian food, I thought I would be distracted by the Super Bowl festivities at the Snobatorium with the silly hype about which brother the Harbaugh  parents loved best. I almost made it too.  Then, just before the half-time show and during the E-Trade Baby Commercial (which we all thought was one of the best but did not make the masses' top five) the following picture flashed on the screen for half a second:

Boom!

Well that put me over the edge. I could not sleep that evening without dreaming of egg rolls with duck sauce and waking with my hands trying to work chopsticks.  The next day, while heading out to the bypass, I saw the newly opened Panda Wok next to Nails by Ly (which are owned by the same person) near where our favorite Moody's Hardware used to be (3044 McGehee Road). (Take a trip to one of the big box hardware stores and realize what you are missing).  It is also across from the same sad strip mall  where Indian Palace and Del' Amalia had struggled so valiantly to survive--but failed.  With fond memories of those former Gump restaurants swirling in my head like fried won tons, I decided to give the Panda Wok a try. 

I passed on the Pu Pu Tray (Egg roll, crab Rangoon, fried shrimp, beef cho cho and BBQ Ribs), and went straight for the hot and sour soup, egg roll and the spicy Hong Kong chicken ( $5.75 at lunch).  Was quickly satisfied with the service, cleanliness and taste of the food.  They could have made it a little spicier for my taste because I am a hottie err...I like it hot.  They can make it as hot as you want I am sure.

I was enjoying my fare when on the news came a story about a party at the Kappa Sigma house at Duke where they celebrated (or ridiculed) Asians and new-English speaker's difficulties with pronouncing the letter "L": One email featured the puppet character of former Korean leader Kim Jong-Il from "Team America: World Police" and reads "Herro Nice Duke Peopre" in a misspelling intended to convey an east Asian accent.

Deck the halls with boughs of horrey.....

Some of the students interviewed were outraged while others thought there were more important things to protest.  In any event, those clueless Kappa Sigs have apologized to anyone who did not understand they meant no lasting harm by hosting their "International Affairs" party. But it certainly appears insensitive to make fun of the way new-Americans butcher the accents just like they made fun of me in Venice last September when I tried to say "Per favore" or "Grazie" with a U.S. Southern accent.

Anyway, I was enjoying my lunch and the warm feeling in my stomach as the soy and duck sauce kicked in, thinking about the Panda in the hot tub with the E-Trade Baby and the party at Duke and trying to make sense of it all when the waitress came to me with my check and asked:

"wrill dat be arw?"

I have now learned that hot and sour soup can clean out your sinuses.  However, I do not recommend it.

WokaWoka.

Panda Wok
3044 McGehee Road
Montgomery, AL. 36111
Tel (334) 649-4649.

[Ed. Note: Tuffy is our newest Gumphead and this is her first attempt to amuse us.  Please give her only sensitive comments]

 

Tokyo, meet Tojo

Warning: this is a sad story

[Ed. Note: It is sadder that we thought. Tokyo is now kaput. The All-City Coney Island Eatery now occupies the space. See recent review]

Tuesday brought freezing weather, along with the first day of the 2010 legislative session. Great. Dragging into the office late, lamenting the invasion of Montgomery by blowhards with bad haircuts and gum-smacking mistresses, I wondered where a taxpayer could get a quick lunch without encountering polyester suits, pompadours or comb-overs.

With nothing to look forward to but months of demagoguery and liquor shortages, I despaired. It’s too cold to play golf, and the most popular pastime this time of year -- holding on to your wallet -- isn’t that much fun. When the Legislature's in session, lobbyists have the good tables and you can’t find an empty barstool anywhere.

I was about to drive through Burger King when the inbox lit up with a message from Tojo Yamamoto. The e-mail from my old friend was a classic example of Tojo’s elegant economy of words: “Tojo hungry.”

A call-out from Tojo always elicits a number of lunch suggestions but Gumper BoDiddly made the call. Remembering Tojo’s embarrassment over the ill-conceived Ndamukong Suh Hunger Strike, Mr. Diddly suggested a never-been-gumped target: "Tokyo" -- apparently the Gump’s only non-chain Japanese restaurant inside the Bypass.

Tojo, who was downtown teaching self-defense and anti-groping techniques to female state employees (no-bid contract), was absolutely giddy at the prospect of dining at an "authentic" Japanese eatery. Tojo responded that while he had never tried Tokyo, he was honored that we chose a Japanese establishment for lunch. He gave BoDiddly the ultimate seal of approval, e-mailing us with a gushing “Tojo like.” It was on.

What we wanted!

BoDiddly, Cornbread Carp, Clemenza, Shadow Pup and I arrived first and were waiting outside Tokyo when our big tomodachi* rolled up in his pimped-out Mitsubishi Galant. Imagine our shock when Tojo bounced out of his ride in the signature silk robe, as always, but WEARING SHOES. We had never seen such… Tojo in footwear! But as reported, it was colder than Nick Saban’s blood that day.

Sadly, this is where it started to unravel for poor Tojo. First of all, Tojo told us to follow his lead, as if to show us, hey, this is how we roll in the Land of the Rising Sun and I don't want you guys to look like a bunch of rubes. “Shoes off,” he said.

We went in shoeless only to find a shabby-looking, fluorescent-lit lunch counter with three or four overweight patrons guarding their food like they were Poindexters and we were trying to copy their pop quizzes. Worst of all was a sign that said NO SHOES, NO SHIRT, NO SERVICE. Words can’t describe the stricken look on Tojo’s face as he stood there holding his shoes (the excellent kimono, while very cool, is not exactly a shirt, either). “Tojo confused,” he said.

Tojo approached the lady behind the counter. They bowed and had a short conversation in Japanese. We waited in our socks, the fat stateys giving us the apprehensive once-over, apparently afraid we were there to seize their egg rolls. Tojo bowed again and turned to face us. “Shoes on,” he said, then paused and dropped his eyes before adding, “Shadow Pup not welcome.”

As LITG followers are aware, there is a particular bond between Tojo and Shadow Pup. You may recall that Shadow Pup’s keen senses of smell and genealogy once saved Tojo and the Gumpers from potential disaster at Choices Chinese on Commerce Street (Shadow Pup smelled a distant cousin in the walk-in cooler and led the group safely out of danger to a fantastic lunch at Cool Beans).

Imagine the awkwardness of the situation -- LITG’s A-Team barefoot in the cold at an ersatz Japanese restaurant, being told that our Lead Dog has to leave, while a 340-pound ex-professional wrestler best known for the dreaded “Stomach Claw” tries coming to grips with the dishonor of it all.

It got worse. At about this time the cook, a good-sized fellow as fidgety as that Asian guy in The Hangover, emerged from the kitchen with a meat cleaver to enforce the bullshit shoes/shirts/dogs provisions of the Tokyo policy manual. Tojo’s eyes narrowed as he shifted the center of his massive gravity to the balls of his feet, bent his knees slightly and sized up the cook. This thing was about to blow.

Luckily Shadow Pup saved the day once again, agreeing to wait in the car if we promised to take him to Hamburger King afterwards (I don’t think the Pup was comfortable at Tokyo in the first place, especially the way the cleaver guy kept eyeballing him).

Well anyway, mayhem averted, we put our shoes back on and everybody ordered the “special of the day,” which was a moderately tasty and inexpensive beef/chicken/shrimp concoction you've had a thousand times. It was heaped atop enough rice to give an Atkins dieter a starch seizure. “Hmph. Taste like Chinese. Pass soy sauce,” said Tojo.

What we got.

(you can almost see the MSG)

After lunch, Tojo bowed to the counter lady, glared at the cleaver-wielding, lucky-to-be-alive cook and left the building. Outside, he paused at Clemenza’s limo, where Shadow Pup was laid up in the back seat watching a DVD of Turner & Hooch. The bulletproof tinted glass slid down and we watched as Tojo gave Shadow Pup a scratch behind the ear, right where he likes it. They exchanged a few words then Tojo shuffled off to the Galant and drove away.


Editor’s notes:

Location: If you still want to know, “Tokyo” is located at 701 Madison Avenue at the intersection of Madison and Union, next to some tire place.

Food: If you want a couple pounds of middle-of-the-road Chinese at a fair price, this is your spot. Tokyo also scores a perfect "10" if you HATE THE EARTH. Every single container and utensil (eat-in or take-out) is made of styrofoam or plastic. Yep, and the shitty mass-produced duck sauce is in those shitty little plastic packets, too.

Note to Legislators: There is parking in back, which is good if you don’t want anybody to know you’re inside signing a pact with the devil or trying to get your girlfriend out of the Frederick's of Hollywood gear you bought her during the last special session.

Also: It must be noted that of the other Japanese places in town, one is a chain hibachi joint and the others are outside the Bypass. Although LITG does make occasional forays to the periphery, Tojo has never imposed his considerable will to steer the group to any of these establishments. He is a gentle giant, Tojo.

* Tomodachi = good friend. I think. Hope it’s not something that pisses Tojo off.

Green Papaya: Tojo Yamamoto Ends Hunger Strike

Tojo upset because Ndamukong Suh not win Heisman Trophy. Lunch in Gump fans know Tojo love Thai food. Tojo figure anyone with name “Ndamukong” must be Thai so Tojo root hard. But slippery little Ingram win trophy. Tojo know in heart SEC refs cheat on vote count, so Tojo protest. Tojo go on hunger strike.

Tojo e-mail Lunch in Gump about hunger strike so Gumpers not save seat for Tojo. Tojo starve until Ndamukong get rightful trophy. Then Catfish tell Tojo Mr. Suh from Africa and Mrs. Suh from Jamaica. Tojo google. Catfish right. Hunger strike all for nothing. Tojo ashamed and hungry enough to eat frozen dog.

Tojo confide shame to Lunch in Gump. Loyal friend Shadow Pup suggest Green Papaya on Coliseum Boulevard. Tojo ask Shadow Pup, why Green Papaya? Tojo never hear of Green Papaya. Shadow Pup say Green Papaya have excellent food from Thailand and Laos. Make Tojo forget all about African-Jamaican Cornhusker and stupid hunger strike. Tojo say okay.

Tojo google Thailand. Surprised to find out Yul Brynner not king anymore. Find out hoochie-coochie trade 10% of tourism revenue. Tojo think, hmmm.

Tojo google Laos. Find out original name Kingdom of Lan Xang, or Land of a Million Elephants. Tojo bet slippery little Ingram happy about this!

Anyway, Tojo call Shadow Pup to ask direction. Shadow Pup say Green Papaya on Coliseum Boulevard by giant flea market. Tojo find Green Papaya easy but wonder who need giant flea? Tojo digress.

Tojo know to watch out for spicy Lao-Thai va-va-voom hot pepper from Sup in Gump review so Tojo order Spicy Basil Chicken (mild). Because of stupid hunger strike Tojo also order extra spring rolls, Chicken Satay and Papaya Salad. BEST LUNCH IN GUMP FOR MONTHS! TOJO LIKE!

Other Gumpers order Pho Special Combo, Tom Kha, Pad Prik Keing, Nau Pad Na Mun Hoy, Amazing Lad Na, Pad Woon Sen, Tham Mak Houng, plus Goong and Yun-Wun-Sen appetizers. What these mean? Tojo Japanese, have no idea. Tojo guess these all Laotian words for “taste wonderful” or “make nose run.”

Green Papaya menu remind Tojo of Deer Hunter when guard grab Christopher Walken by hair and shout, “Yum Pla Muck! Nam Tok! Pad Kee Maow! MAOW!” Tojo hate that part.

Tojo off topic again.

Green Papaya great lunch place. Everybody get out for $10 to $15. Tojo’s bill $42.65 before tip because Tojo starving from stupid hunger strike.

Who is this Tojo? Bring him to me.