being Chinese-American and mistaken for "Harold" on a regular basis, I have, as many would expect, sort of a soft spot for Panda Express. any time I'm in the mood to forget nostalgic notions of savory home-cooked meals, I can always trust in Panda Express to offer tender, delicious, bowel-convulsing cuisine that reminds me nothing of the comfort foods mom (or in my people's native tongue: "ma") used to slave away for hours in the hot kitchen to stuff our bratty, ungrateful mouths full of.
most people may not know this, but ironically (or "cleverly") "Panda Express" is actually a Chinese phrase. an allusion to exquisite tea houses and fine restaurants of the Qing dynasty, the phrase translates roughly to "Glorious House of Succulent Temptations and Unending Flatulence." even as I toured several in the area (side note: outstanding romantic evening out for the more adventurous of you lovebirds out there) these "Glorious Houses" indeed never failed to live up to their name. each place created a unique evocative atmosphere exactly like the one before it.
if I were to impart only one of the countless touching memories I amassed during these visits, I think it'd have to be one from College Avenue and University. I found a choice seat in the corner and had my book open to indicate that even though I was eating alone, I was still busy and therefore important. I had my gwailo-impressing chopsticks at the ready and the scents of orange- like- flavoring- on- chicken were already making my mouth water and my stomach nervous. as I sat with twitchy anticipation, not unlike a heroin addict, preparing myself for instants of delicious bounty and hours of regret, I paused for a moment. I found myself marveling in awe at the wall-hangings of Chinese calligraphy. words cannot describe the beauty and poignancy of a language that has characters that can mean either "tasty" or "gaseous" depending on the pronunciation. my joyous appreciation would later manifest itself in an extra-loud burp.
