I kick-started a fledgling Christmas tradition a couple of years ago by dining out on my own for the final review of the year.
Shunning the company of others may have been contrary to the spirit of the festive season. However, it is devilishly hard finding an intro to a restaurant column, particularly at the fag end of the year, and being a yuletide loner would, if nothing else, give me an 鈥渋n,鈥 albeit at the expense of some rousing cheer.
For my first year solo party, I went to a Woktastic, a Japanese noodle and sushi bar in Paradise Forum, Birmingham. It was ok-ish, not particularly interesting. I also recall it was quite cold and by the end of lunch my core temperature resembled that of the fish coming round on the conveyor belt.
Last year, I donned my Father Christmas hat and pulled up a stool at Mount Fuji, a Japanese noodle and sushi bar in the Bullring. (The eagle-eyed may have noticed a pattern emerging.) It was better than ok and the staff were very friendly, which helps when you are, figuratively, pulling your own cracker.
In truth, I would have gone for a very sushi Xmas once again this year, making it a festive fish hat-trick (because I could work with that for an intro). Only there was a problem: there weren鈥檛 any Japanese restaurants, or none I fancied, left to go to in Brum. This remains a source of irritation and bafflement: irritation because I happen to like sushi, although I鈥檓 a relative novice; and bafflement because loads of other people, with far more money than me, also love this uncomplicated style of cuisine, and the clever sod who decides to take the plunge and open a top class Japanese restaurant in Birmingham will be minted.
Still, there鈥檚 no use crying over spilt sushi, so I did something radical: I killed off the experimental December dining tradition. Just like that. If Japan wouldn鈥檛 come to me, I鈥檇 go to China instead, or at least to a Chinese restaurant.
What鈥檚 more, I would do it in style, not alone but with my two teenage daughters and one of their friends. Getting the most out of eating Chinese food requires strength in numbers because if you don鈥檛 get a large number of dishes you are missing out on half the fun. I鈥檇 be selling you 鈥 the reader 鈥 short if I only had a crispy meat dish and some glutinous rice.
We went to Chung Ying, one of Birmingham鈥檚 original Chinese restaurants, in Wrottesley Street. The place is run by James Wong, son of the founder Siu Chung Wong, who died almost two years ago. James is to be applauded for his attempts to modernise the 31-year-old business while retaining its hustle-bustle charm, as well as his energy in promoting the Chinese Quarter, which could be so much better than the sum of its parts if someone would only get hold of it. In fairness, there is some uninspiring chow mein mediocrity here but for the sheer range of styles, the smells, the ducks hanging in the cafe window and the in-your-face drama, the city鈥檚 own Chinatown has a lot going for it. For what it counts, I am learning to love it and it has only taken 20 years.
I have eaten at Chung Ying (and its younger sister restaurant Chung Ying Garden) a couple of times now. I am sure the place divides opinion because Chinese food seems to be one of the trickiest cuisines to judge objectively. One diner鈥檚 dried, over-salted flesh hell is another diner鈥檚 morsel of pleasure. But I like it here, I feel happy at Chung Ying, and that鈥檚 a cause for celebration.
The place could do with the odd lick of paint. The scuffed yellow table legs have seen better days, as have the carpets. But do you know what? It doesn鈥檛 really bother me.
The menu is of epic proportions, running to nearly 400 dishes. If this was a European restaurant you would walk out: too many dishes, they can鈥檛 do them all properly, ridiculous. But Chinese customers 鈥 and there are a lot of them in today, as well as Vietnamese 鈥 expect encyclopaedic menus. So, too, do the judges of Chinese food. Chung Ying has recently been named the best Chinese restaurant in the Midlands in the Tsingtao Legacy of Taste competition. The national winner will be announced at the end of next month.
As it was lunch-time, we plundered the dim sum selection but in truth barely scratched the surface. Steamed pork and king prawn dumplings and mad fungus-shaped steamed beef with ginger and spring onion were all good. Fluffy char siu buns, with sweet barbecue-style pork, were a major hit with the One Direction generation. We could have knocked off several portions (of three). The highlight for me were the steamed chicken feet in black bean sauce. There ain鈥檛 a lot of meat here but that鈥檚 the way with birds鈥 feet. This is all about flavour and savoury slurping and gnawing on softened bone and chewy bits. All this pleasure costs 拢2.90 a throw.
We had some pan-fried Shanghai dumplings with an acidic dipping sauce. Overall, we preferred the steamed vibe and the slippery, gloopy-jacketed king prawn cheung fun went down a treat.
I thought we should try some of the big main dishes, which the Chinese would generally favour for dinner. It meant bidding a tearful farewell to the dim sum list, including steamed pork intestines in satay sauce. Another time, intestines. Another time. Similarly, there was no room for the soups and tempting a la carte starters such as steamed scallops with preserved vegetable and glass vermicelli and salt and chilli soft shell crab.
We had sweet and sour spare ribs because if you are going to a Chinese restaurant with children you really have to. Sizzling king prawns came with a good dose of chilli and insane amounts of garlic. The girls all loved the ribs but the pick of the trio for me was the no-nonsense crispy belly pork, eaten with plain rice and doused in soy sauce. I only ate about a kilo of it. You can鈥檛 stop yourself with this sort of food, can you?
There are some great sounding seafood dishes, with halibut, sea bass, eel, turbot and lobster and 鈥渙h, yes please鈥 sounding casseroles (stewed beef brisket with spices) and duck delights. And more intestines. So little time, so many intestines.
Lunch for four, with three soft drinks and a pot of Chinese tea, was 拢67. Good value.
