Knee Deep in the Rivers of Rage

August 31, 2005.
It's hot today. Rare for SF. So Big Jay Rendon suggested we go to Chef Jia's, at 925 Kearny St (between Jackson & Columbus).
I was skeptical, asking "is this still technically Chinatown?"
It is, though. The southern edge of it, in fact.
Ted Bluey Joined us, and thank God he did.
The menu begins with a chest-thumping from Chef Jia himself. I like that.

This place is right next door to the famous House of Nanking. According to Jay, CHef Jia used to work there, but got into a bitter dispute with HON's owner. So what did Chef Jia do? He opened a restaurant right next door. Touche.
Alas, Chef Jia's is nowhere near as popular as HON, but having dined at both, I must say that Chef Jia's is superior.
Jay did all the ordering, because he grew up in San Francisco.

We had: Chicken in Tsingtao Beer Sauce
Prawns in Peanut Butter Sauce
and, the champion, Honey Chili Eggplant. A stoner-ific meld of sweet, spicy, crunchy, soft and tangy. Dude. The other stuff was good, too. The atmosphere was clean, with gaily painted walls. Almost like a taqueria. But in Chinatown. Fortunately the wall art was random and none of the plates matched, thus proving it wasn't a chain. And as you can see, Chef Jia doesn't keep his boasting to the menu, but it spills out onto the walls, generously slathering us patrons in his glory, as if were prawns in the penaut butter sauce of his ego. Delicious, savory ego.

What's the difference between an airplane and a prayer?


An airplane soars on wings of metal.

And a prayer soars on wings of faith.

Fuck yeah!

August 24th, 2005.
Sheesh. Aren't there any godamn Chinese restaurants in Chinatown? Again, a Vietnamese place. Why? Because it was left up to my co-workers, who seem to fear Chinese food. "Oooo...we're afraid of Chinese food!" But, since it was Kevin's (luckky.blogspot.com) birthday (tomorrow)
I sloughed off my calcitrance and went along. He dared order the "Three Color Bean Drink" - seen above - and declared it to be "legume-y."
Again, we were accompanied by an authentic Vietnamese person Miss Phuong, who was extremely well-behaved and lady-like. We ate dainty treats such as "#47" and "#53" and I had the "vAgetarian vermicelli." How was it? vAge-tastic! The ladies all enjoyed their meals, eating meat like a bunch of cave-women, ripping into it with primitive abandon. Women.

As you must know by now, there was a real explosion in downtown SF this morning. An underground power transformer blew up, injuring a pedestrian. Very sad.It happened at the corner of Kearny & Post, a mere two blocks from the Author's office (at Kearny & Bush) (don't tell my Stalker).

But approx. one hour prior to the 10am explosion, I witnessed something even more jarring - an "Art-Plosion!!"
There it was, at the corner of Kearny & Bush, an abandoned tape cassette carrying case of soft brown plastic. I glanced about, nervously. The nefarious Art Academy of College University or whatever is JUST up the block. Shiftless art students, smoking, brooding. Was this a plant? I delved deeper into the mysteries... real cassette tapes. Was I being watched? Will a video be made, accompanied by some "electroclash?" What could be worse? Was this left by a crazy homeless guy? Or by a genuine art student? I don't know. There was a John Denver tape. I had no evidence, but my "rage-sense" was tingling. I felt that "art" was happening, that I was being blown to ironic bits in an "Art-Plosion!" Let us pray.

Fact: Chinatown is home to several non-Chinese restaurants.
Case in point: Golden Star Vietnamese Restaurant, to which we took Amber the Art Director for her big 30th birthday.

Nestled on Walter U Lum Place (#11 - off of Clay between Grant & Kearny) and across from a park-like square where tourists can gawk at authentic asian people as they eat lunch, do Tai Chi, and knock birds out of the sky with blunt-tipped arrows.
The food was authentic. We even had a real Vietnamese person with us, Phuong (right). Phuong seemed to enjoy the food, so we did, too. I ordered #53. Mmmmm. Big Jay tried the "salty lemonade." I ordered that, too - but the waiter talked me out of it, encouraging me to order the "salty soda lemonade" instead. But Big Jay held his ground - he damn near came to fisticuffs with the pushy, arrogant waiter.
But, the girls got upset and started fluttering and twittering about. Fast Eddie cried. There was much consternation and clucking of tongues, and Big Jay settled down.
Amber enjoyed her lunch immensely, as did we all. Golden Star Vietnamese - long may you shine with food!