Chen’s: Hole-in-the-wall? Or best place ever?

PHOTO by ROSHEILA ROBLES

Right up there with gravity, relativity, and all that other mumbo-jumbo sits another, less recognized but nonetheless universal principle: The Gastrointestinal Theory of Dining Out—or, as it’s more commonly known, You Say Tomato, I Say Barf. I believe it goes something like, “For every reason you love to eat at [Insert Restaurant Name], there lies an equal and opposite reason why [Insert Someone Else's Name] will never, ever go there with you. Ever.”

I’m sure you know a few places like this, and so you also know that loving a restaurant your friends all hate is just the pits, worse even than loving somebody your friends all hate (because at least you can you can drag that somebody with you). Most of the time, though, you have two options: eat alone, or eat with a person you don’t see very often or know very well. Either way, you’re better off ordering in.

To further illustrate this principle, consider Chen’s Chinese Restaurant, the well-known Mandarin spot on Broadway and Junipero, across the street and down a few doors from Park Pantry. Most folks know Chen’s—if not for its food, then for its kitschy neon exterior, which, depending on what you’re in to, either screams Stay Away or Must Visit. And while that’s just the outside of the restaurant, the same can be said of the interior, and the service, and the food.

It varies depending on whom you ask, but Chen’s is either the best Chinese food in Long Beach or a bastard, gross-out joint never to be even spoken of, much less visited. Personally, I’m not that big on Chinese food, period (much too heavy), so it was precisely this best place ever/unforgivable hole-in-the-wall debate that drew me to Chen’s in the first place.

It was lunch hour, and the place was full. Good sign. On the menu was a spectacular lunch special: your choice of egg drop soup or hot and sour soup, plus an egg roll, fried rice, and choice of two entrees (kung pao chicken; sweet and sour chicken or pork; broccoli with chicken or beef; shrimp chop suey; shredded pork with garlic sauce; Buddha’s delight, a.k.a. mixed vegetables; or kung pao vegetables). All for just $5.95. Great sign.

The tea arrived promptly, as did my hot and sour soup, all goopy and salty—just the way I like it. Yum! Next up, some fried rice in a bucket (there were two of us). Uh-oh: it wasn’t very hot. This was followed seconds later by our entrees: kung pao chicken, sweet and sour chicken, shredded pork, and mixed vegetables—served side by side, two entrees to a plate, with an egg roll. Things were looking up: huge, steaming piles of greasy food—and I do mean huge. One lunch special could probably feed three people, if you rationed properly.

A bite into the pork—delicious—followed by a swig of Tsingtao convinced me the hole-in-the-wall haters were idiots. But then a nibble on one of Buddha’s bland vegetables had me rethinking my appetite, period. I resolved the problem by chomping into a sticky (and good) sweet and sour ball, only to be confronted by the kung pao—which had no pow!, no spiciness whatsoever (and I’m not immune to spiciness).

So far, Chen’s hadn’t convinced me either that I should come back soon or abandon it forever. It was dirt cheap, yes (the first thing that fans of Chen’s will tell you) but also pretty lackluster when it came to the food—just OK (as the naysayers complain). But then a busboy came around with a cart full of plates—dumping ours onto it—followed by another busboy with a roller vacuum. This would be the deciding moment, the moment where I picked a side and vowed to stick with it. And . . .

. . . I’m cool with it, with it all: the roller vacuums, the pow-less pao, the fantastic pork. Maybe it’s because I eat Chinese only about once a year—and thus can’t afford to care about it—but it’s more likely that I just find comfort in a place where I know that I’ll get exactly what I pay for. That is the beauty of Chen’s. Now, if only I can find someone who’ll go with me.

CHEN’S CHINESE RESTAURANT 2131 E BROADWAY | LONG BEACH 90803 | 562.439.0309 | OPEN MON-THURS & SUN 11:30AM-9:30PM | FRI-SAT 11:30AM-10PM | LUNCH FOR TWO, $12-20

Tags: chen's, chinese, Long Beach