Don "The Last Yelpicorn" B.'s Profile

The bar is currently under construction so... well... this is a review of the bar that's currently operating out of the banquet room.

Chinese Village is one of those classic dingy Chinese/American places that lines 82nd Avenue (aka The Avenue of Roses). The sign is a classic neon which has seen better days. From the outside, the place is a bit run down, and in this case, a pretty good barometer of what you're going to find inside.

Driving down 82nd on a Sunday evening, we decided to pop in and check this place out on a lark. I've always wondered about it... the parking lot seems busy on your average Friday/Saturday nights. Unfortunately (or possibly fortunately, based on reading some of the other reviews on here), the bar was closed for renovation, but a helpful temporary sign directed us to a bar operating in one of the large banquet rooms in the restaurant.

The restaurant itself is fairly small, with some booths and tables and your classic heavy Chinese decor. There is a medium sized banquet room to one side, and a large one in the back that currently plays host to a temporary Chinese dive.

The clientele is what you'd expect for a place like this on 82nd. Classy. The little Chinese bartender lady was nice, offering up some special "no-so Jell-o" shots in honor of the Super Bowl. Not-so Jell-o? They put too much alcohol in so it didn't set. $1 for a semi-liquid yet still viscous shot that pretty much tasted like cough syrup. Oh yeah. Time to party.

We each grabbed one of these nasty/snotty-textured cups and a Tsingtao and proceeded to play some Megatouch while one of the patrons played an assortment of country, metal, grunge, and... Paul Simon(?!) on the juke. A quick scan of the room indicated that they'd had a little superbowl party there only hours earlier, with the remnants of a classic dive bar buffet on a table in the corner consisting of some empty bags of ruffles and a crock pot with some cooked hot dogs in it... at a Chinese restaurant/bar. Awesome.

So we downed our not-so Jello-o shots, drank some Tsingtao, and played some boobie photo-hunt on the Megatouch and communed with 82nd Ave. It was magical.

No food was consumed so I can't comment on that, but I can say I'll definitely be back to check out the new and improved and remodeled bar when it reopens. This could make for some good, cheap, adventurous drinkin'.

I'm all tore up... in more ways than one.

1. I was all tore up the next morning after drinking a 40 oz bottle of Olde English from a brown paper bag (served with a condom) followed by the remaining 20oz of an associate's 40. This combined with numerous beers at other establishments both before and aprés.

2. I'm financially tore up by paying $9 for a 40 of Olde English. Seriously?! Seriously.

3. I'm tore up about whether to drop 3 stars on this place for being sort of a generic yet overpriced bar that serves up cocktails of medium quality, or whether to add a fourth star on for offering Maker's Mark and Fernet, both ON TAP.

4. I'm definitely NOT tore up about the fact that the condom that was served with the 40 was not used that night... especially since it was boys' night out.

Shit, that last one deserves a 4th star right there.

What do you get when you combine five parts pink kitsch from your grandma's house, three parts greasy spoon, and one part Korean? The Cameo, that's what.

This place houses the oddest mix of decor, food, and people you could ever ask for. Sitting out on 82nd and Sandy, the Cameo looks from the outside to be just another greasy diner. Open the front door and walk inside, and you'll be transported into another world. Pink walls, crystal chandeliers, random chintzy decorations, and a coffee-shop style breakfast counter.

The cuisine is primarily omelets, eggs, and... uh... kimchi? Yeah. Gigantic plates of what looks like it's going to be average diner food for $9-$12/plate dominate. But the food is of much higher quality than you'd expect. The bacon is thick and tasty. The Korean rice/egg/cheese pancake is tasty and interesting, if not incredibly rich. The side of kimchi is rotten (as it should be) and tasty, but not worth the exorbitant $4. They offer house-made spicy sauce, a house-made raspberry sauce, and some pretty delicious food. The service is sassy and fun, and the owner dresses like she should be at an evening social function.

Overall, it's a total trip, but light-years better than  your average greasy diner.

Yum.

I saw a lot of McCrunk things happen in this place, but the Shiner Dark made it all ok.

This little Nob Hill bar is sort of a cross between a dive and a sports bar. They have a bunch of Texas beers on tap, which made a few of the Texans in our group more than happy. The dark environs made our fairly intoxicated group feel quite comfortable, and the interwebs-juke offered a bumpin' selection of songs, keeping the music-minded at bay.

Overall, it's a place I could definitely pop into again on a bar crawl. A McDrunken bar crawl.

The Rotunda: Home of the $24 entree salad.

Hey, at least you get free popovers!

The drinks are stiff, the KJ is grumpy, and the place is a dive. That can make for a fun night if you roll in and take over a place with a huge group of friends on an otherwise dead Monday night, but I wouldn't be excited to swerve in on a more crowded night because I suspect the KJ would put the regulars ahead of us in line, always. Oh well. It's better than the Mint in terms of the folks not being über serious about their crappy Karaoke skillz, but whatever.

I'm sure I'll be back for more fernet shots and god-awful renditions of Bell Biv Devoe's "Poison".

This was the best St. Levchin's Day ever.

There's nothing like delicious bloody marys at 8am on a Thursday...

Nothing.

Out with a group reveling in abject drunkenness? Did the wheels just fall off the bus?

Get your ass on over to Tommy's for a gratuitous meat-filled late night refueling stop before careening toward the inevitable crash into a booze-addled slumber. It just may save your ass the next morning.

Don't forget to pair the big heaping pile of meat stew with rice on your plate with a nice shot of Fernet Branca from the bar. Trust me on this. Your hangover will thank you in the morning.

And so it begins. The great Indian duel: Lahore vs. Shalimar.

In my mind, the two are somewhat different in origin and nature, but similar in level of quality and many other attributes. Both are light years beyond anything I get in Portland, and could easily duel with some of my more favorite spots in Seattle.

I finally got in to try Lahore, which is a fairly (but not too) dirty hole in the wall over in the 'loin. The dishes (the ones I care about at least) like curry run in the $7 range, and consist of a decent sized bowl of pungent, earthy curry with meats and in some cases, potatoes and other veggies. Upon my visit I opted for 2 of my lodestar Indian dishes - Chicken Tikka Masala and Lamb Vindaloo, with some rice and naan, of course. Both ordered medium spicy.

The meal was delivered quickly (the place was empty when we were in there) and the food came piping hot. The chicken tikka marsala was heavier on the cream/yogurt and lighter on the tomato than usual, and it made for a surprisingly good alternative to my usual favorite. The spice level was perfect for an order of "medium." The flavors were complex and, as indicated above, both pungent and earthy. Delicious.

The vindaloo was the star of my personal show. The lamb was tender and juicy, and most importantly, plentiful. The curry itself was a nice, dark brown, You can tell the curry base was not over-processed, so random chunks of distinct flavors came bursting from the sauce with each new bite. I'm a big fan of non-homogenized flavors, and this delivered in spades.

The naan was the only really not-impressive part of our meal, but that said it was still pretty decent naan, and I wouldn't hesitate to order it again. At $2.5 for a fairly small portion, I wasn't super stoked on the value.

Overall, 2 curries, one naan, and a rice came to $21.50, which is not a bad deal for a filling dinner for 2 in the City. The lack of ambiance actually adds to my experience at these types of places, but if you're looking for a "white tablecloth" place to take a first date, this ain't it. Plus, with the pungent smells of cooking curries and baking tandoori chicken hanging heavy in the air, you and your dinner companion will be stankin' like Indian food all night long.

So yeah... I was a Shalimar devotee, but my dinner at Lahore has officially split my devotion in tow, and I am torn. Either way, it's a high-class problem to have!

Fuck it. I have to say, the coffee is worth 5-stars. I had a delicious cuppa French Press this morning and it MADE MY MORNING. Seriously... this is worth traveling to the Mission for.