At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Tuesday, December 31, 2013


The warning signs are all there: desperate female buskers with flyers and menus trying to drag you in off the street, a menu entirely in English, loads of confused German and Italian tourists, dimsum in the EVENING, décor that screams "kitsch", and prices far more suited to a snooty French restaurant out in Bumpattyville, the suburbs.
Maybe Modesto or Vacaville.
Not Chinatown.

Nah, I am not going to name the restaurant.
Primarily because I don't want to get sued.

The Chinese name still attached to the building from many years ago states 'New Apricot Perfume', and there's an advert for roast suckling pig.
Which dates back to the sixties; they haven't done that in ages.

Again, I will not mention what it's called in English. Readers with half an ounce of common sense, even if they are monolingual, will internalize the omens and flee before the food comes.
If they ever set foot inside.

However, reading about it on a popular rating site for disgruntled diners provided a deserved hoot.

I present quotes below, veritable paeans of dispraise.


Worst restaurant I have probably eaten at.
We were told they were out of spoons.
This place needs to be shut down.

This turned out to be a bad experiment.
Everything was covered in grease.
I was born yesterday.

Tasted like bathwater & old chicken.
I am a Chinese and eat dim a lot.
Our server seemed hostile!

Not worth the emotional effort.
And the food was terrible!
It's an abomination.

The food was underwhelming.
How unfortunate for this.
Completely awful.

Disgusting & overpriced.
It was really dry, too.
I ended up sick.


You will kindly note that I have grouped these quotes in sets, as if a perverse form of poetry. Which they actually are. These are inspired folks writing from the heart. Or the bowels.

All of the descriptions make it seem like a fascinating place for dinner.
And I couldn't help noticing that very many of the furious customers were, in fact, in a position to know better.
They were Chinese.

I hate to admit it, but I am tempted to send some people I know there.
Just for fun.

Maybe I should eat there first.
So as to be entirely fair.
At least sporting.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.

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