Restaurant reviews by Justin Tanner, our retired food critic who thought the Coronation was fucking great
AMERICAN TikTokers, slagging off our good old British Chinese? Who do they think they are? That’s our national Friday night cuisine.
I was so patriotically outraged on behalf of our Chinatown cousins, particularly Tony at the Sun Lok, I decided it fell to me to prove there’s nothing wrong with going for a Chinese. And doubling down.
So after a few sharpeners, I rock up at the all-you-can-eat buffet. I explain I’m Covid-negative, because I imagine they’re still concerned about the pandemic they started, and make a joke about skipping the crispy fried bat. They don’t laugh as much as they should.
I’m shown to my table in curt silence, a sign of respect to paying guests in their culture, and there’s the first problem. Chopsticks.
Fuck’s sake. I’ve tried these before, always pissed, and you burn off more calories than you’re getting on board. It’s no wonder they’re all so tiny if they can only eat what they can pick up with bloody knitting needles.
I get the proper cutlery and get in the buffet queue. And they’ve provided enough. Actual fucking banquet. Could keep the poor homeless Army veterans living on the Birmingham streets fed for weeks. Mind you, keep away from those lads, they’re dangerous.
It’s a marvellous example of Britain working with other cultures to make those cultures better. Sesame prawn toast? Inspired by sliced white bread. Chicken and noodle soup is from Heinz and chow mein, which is really nothing more than posh Pot Noodle.
I load up, going heavy on the Cantonese-style sweet and sour even though that irritates me as a concept. Sweet AND sour? They need to make their minds up. It can’t be both.
All that, prawn crackers, spring rolls, pork balls, beef in black bean sauce, ribs, trip after trip to the buffet until I’m groaning as much as my plate is. My bowels will be clogged like an Army shithouse.
Having fought prejudice with my gluttony, I get the bill and a fortune cookie. Each message is handwritten in Mandarin and bespoke to each guest. Looks like squiggles, but it’s a classy touch.
I’m halfway home when I realise mine says ‘fat cunt’ upside-down. Bloody charming. You give them Hong Kong back and that’s the gratitude you get.
