When you think back on your childhood, do you remember the Chinese banquets? The utilitarian rooms, perhaps with bright red, green, and yellow designs, or dragons, or both? The large tables with lazy susans? Happy family members ordering all sorts of dishes, and the thrill of the lazy susan turning, bringing you closer to the beef with broccoli, turn, the sesame chicken, turn, the pan fried noodles, turn.
I grew up in Pittsburgh, and don't get me wrong, we had some fine Cantonese American Banquet Halls. But nothing like the great Canton Houses of New York.
Nathaniel Evermoore is my name, Merchant Marine Captain of the Stropford Frigate. Whenever my ship docks in New York Harbor, I usually get myself to a banquet hall. Most recently I went to Wu's Wonton King on East Broadway, a great banquet house indeed.
Roast pork: check. Crispy garlic chicken with aromatics: without question. Wonton soup: of course. House special noodles with sesame: yes, that's correct.
I kept turning the lazy susan, bringing the flavors closer, and then the susan spinned so quickly it turned into a particle accelerator, hurling the noodles and other dishes around at close to light speed, and the atoms from the roast pork fused with my atoms, and now I'm a Cantonese Superhero, able to fling rice noodles from my wrists, among other things.
Wu's Wonton King
East Broadway
