Lo Mein. Egg Rolls. Won Ton Soup. Friendly Asian waiters and waitresses speaking
in broken English and delivering those delicious fried noodles with duck sauce
to your table.
Really, what isn't there to love about Chinese restaurants?
I always feel sad for those who tell me that they don't like Chinese food, because
they really don't know what they are missing out on. Going to your local Chinese
restaurant is an adventure on par with hopping on a flight to Beijing and roaming
with the locals, smoking opium and dancing on the Great Wall of China. Okay, maybe
I'm going a little too far there, but you get the point. Chinese food is one of
the most under-appreciated meals in America.
Lucky for me, I've always had Empire Hunan close by me in my life. Whenever the
need for Chinese food was felt, Hunan always delivered, figuratively and literally.
And being one of the classier Chinese joints around, not one of those run-of-the-mill
"No. 1 Chinese" or "Orient Expresses," going to Hunan was like stepping foot in
another country. I'm blowing this out of proportion again, but when a Chinese
restaurant has all the cool decorations and music, it makes the experience that
much better. And don't forget the oversized goldfish, they are always a plus.
Being the adventurous eater that I am, I've partaken in many different items
on many different pages of the menus in Chinese restaurants. There was always
one page that enticed me like no other, however.
As I sipped my Shirley Temples, my heart always longed for those schnazzy cocktail
drinks that came in the oh, so sweet custom glasses and mugs. How could a kid
not want to drink something that came out of a skull or a giant pineapple? Those
pictures of the drinks killed me for years.
Underage and out of luck, I could never attain those wild drinks and my days
were limited to the virgin menu.
That is, until I turned 21. Dancing days were here again.
So I came up with the idea for a Zubaz Pants outing to the wonderful Empire Hunan
to try and sample all of those magical drinks on page 2. When I threw the idea
by my liquor-loving comrades, I saw dumplings and fortune cookies dancing in their
eyes. Needless to say, they were down with the idea and quite ecstatic about our
upcoming quest.
Thus, ZubazPants.com went to Empire Hunan ...
A salute to Empire Hunan and ZubazPants.com
This day was actually the first time I had been to the restaurant twice in one
day. Amazingly, the trips were only one hour apart, as I had gone with my girlfriend
and my parents to eat dinner at around 7 and then returned with the Zubazkateers
at around 8:30. I felt like a true member of the Hunan family.
Upon our arrival, we were seated in the backroom with a glorious mural. Every
damned Chinese restaurants should have one of these bad boys in them. So if you're
out there and thinking of opening a Chinese restaurant, heed my advice. Get yourself
one of those murals, or you ain't shit. Ask Nick Rude to draw it for you, he
specializes in drawing things of the Oriental (remember that Oriental is not the
preferred nomenclature, however) nature.
The Zubazkateers in front of an amazing mural, if I don't say so myself. And
yes, that is Earl Sinclair of "Dinosaurs" fame on my t-shirt.
We sat down and asked if we could buy the soundtrack of music that was playing
(you know, the usual Chinese restaurant music with the twangs and what not) and
our waiter gave us a befuddled look and scurried off to ask his boss, we presume
at least.
Getting a copy of the soundtrack was not in the cards on this evening
When he returned we decided to order our beverages from the cocktail page with
all the cool drinks on it. Our waiter, we'll call him Pedro from here on out,
said something about a "salt maker" or a "sword maker" and we just pressed on.
Apparently, he was asking us for identification. He was a little skeptical of
Nick Rude and his boyish good looks, giving his ID a true stare down. Maybe he
was joking after all, because as we would find out, Pedro was in fact a wild man.
I decided to dabble in a drink called "The Scorpion" after reading its description:
"Strongly silent, curiously lush, exceedingly magical." Anything that is at all
"magical" is right up my alley. They really sold me on that description. And wait
till you see the "cup" it came in.
An alcoholic beverage that comes in a decorative bowl is always a hit.
Mike Morano and The Artist Formerly Known as Bernie decided to go down a different
path with their beverage selection. Bernie went with the infamous "Navy Grog,"
a drink that was advertised as coming in a FUCKING SKULL CUP, and Morano went
with the "Fog Cutter." The description for the Fog Cutter was just plain and simple
classic: "If the name leads you to believe that this will cut a mental fog, forget
it. It'll make things murkier than ever - But then, who cares?" You can't put
a price on descriptions like that. I'd throw down a $100 bucks saying that those
who wrote these descriptions were severely liquored up when doing so. God bless
'em.
Two men enjoying a Fog Cutter (l) and Navy Grog (r), or a prelude to homoeroticism?
JK, LOL!!!11 Notice that Bernie's drink is NOT in a skull cup. Can you say BOGUS?
Chris Caron, already gassed up before we arrived at Hunan, thanks to a Happy
Hour rendezvous with his pops, was displeased with the situation as both his and
Bernie's Navy Grogs were not in Skull cups. He demanded of Pedro to "Make sure
this shit gets done right!" But alas, we were about to be even more disappointed
in the lack of gimmick cups that night at Hunan.
Before I get to that however, please note that in a desperate attempt to get
quoted in this article, Morano mentioned something about "A London fog in 1908"
as he was sipping his Fog Cutter. Get it? After the non sequitur, a staple in
Morano's arsenal for years now, Camia called him out on it and hilarity ensued.
In the end, Morano succeeded in his goal.
Camia and Stacy Kelvie had ordered "Pineapple Paradises," which were described
as following: "The fruit of the pineapple combined with rare spices and a blend
of the light rums. Served in a Hawaiian Pineapple shell." Well let me tell you,
there was NO HAWAIIAN PINEAPPLE SHELL!
Note the sorrow in their eyes to go along with the umbrellas in their hair. Two
disappointed kids.
Camia, displeased with the lack of a pineapple shell, then ordered the "Blue
Hawaii" sticking with the Hawaiian theme. The description of the drink read: "A
romantic inspiration to put you in the mood," so naturally, Camia asked Pedro
if he would get laid if he drank the Blue Hawaii. Pedro nodded, seemingly knowing
something that we did not. Perhaps he was the stud of Empire Hunan, or perhaps
he slips roofies into the drinks of unexpecting females and then lures them into
his '92 Escort in the back. Either way, the man must have been getting some serious
Asian ass.
Stacy then started bitching at me, because I had promised her drinks that came
in awe-inspiring glassware. It started to get ugly as she pointed at the pictures
and demanded intricately painted mugs to hold her beverages.
"Where's my damn pineapple glass," Stacy snarled. "I WANT A FUCKING PINEAPPLE
GLASS!!!"
As any self-respecting man would, I took her over to the goldfish trough to talk
things over.
"Do you see any pineapple glasses in there," I screamed. "HUH?!? DO YOU?!? EAT
THE GOLDFISH!!!"
After that, we had to patch things up so I ordered a Love Potion even though
the description told me that there was "no love insurance written on this one."
"Whatever," I thought, if that didn't work I could always go with the behemoth
that was the "Volcano of Love."
And that's exactly what I did ...
I
I can't get this damn picture normal
Look at that baby. LOOK AT IT! If you're looking for a quick, drunk fix, look
no further than the "Volcano of Love."
When the Volcano arrived with fire actually spewing from the top, we knew we
were done for. At this point Stacy and me were already groggy, but this bad boy
would be the proverbial nail in the coffin.
Oy vay
As you can see, I was on the ropes at this point ... we needed a third member
to tackle this beast. Enter middle relieve Diana Angi.
Diana came to the rescue, but even for a pro drinker like herself, the Volcano
was quite the mountain to be climbed.
To finish the job, we called on Camia's drinking prowess, and he was up to the
task. By first attacking the formerly flaming 151 that sat at the peak, he delivered
a crucial blow to Goliath.
Camia went for the heart of the beast, the 151 perched on top of the Volcano.
Camia then began slurping up the rest of the drink, like the champion drinker
that he is.
Like vultures to a carcass rotting in the desert, the rest of us came back to
deliver the final blow to the Volcano of Love. It was a total team effort, one
that brings a tear to my to this day.
