More Yelping

Take a stroll around Old Town sometime, see the sights.  See the loud, angry homeless people, the polite, well-behaved homeless people (courtesy of Right 2 Dream Too), the Chinese Garden, the puddles of clubgoer vomit punctuating the sidewalk, the godawful semi-testicular One Pacific Square building...but, most of all, the Hung Far Low sign.  Yes indeedy, that beloved old restaurant shingle bearing a no doubt innocent Chinese phrase I can't be arsed to look up, which--quite by accident--connotes gravid genitalia in our mongrel gwailo tongue.

The restaurant itself fucked off to 82nd years ago--didn't love us anymore, I guess.  Doesn't matter, though, as a new restaurant now huddles in its erstwhile space: Ping.  Which is, apparently, one of GQ's top 10 best new restaurants of 2010.  Not that I give a fuck what GQ thinks.  I mention this only as an excuse to point out that Ping hasn't let this no-doubt-high honor go to its head--or prices.

Yes, a mere $18 will get you a full dinner of a steamed pork bun, spicy mama ramen, and a bottle of Chang.  The bun was not only made to order, but heated all the way through--more than I can say for the pork buns of some Old Town restaurants *COUGH*houseoflouie*COUGH I could name.  The ramen is the standard "everything including some hard chunks we're pretty sure are bits of the kitchen sink, so watch your teeth" noodle bowl local Asian restaurants love so well.  It's odd in that I like everything in it EXCEPT the noodles, which I'd swear came out of those quarter-a-pop packs you can find in supermarkets and convenience stores the world over (and believe me, having subsisted on the things the middle third of my life I know my cheap ramen).  I can't comment on whether it tastes like your mama (who, if I may say so, is damn tasty if it does), but they're not kidding about the "spicy" part--be certain of your bravery before taking the wait staff up on their offer to toss some more capsaicin in there.  The Chang, eh, confirmed my suspicion that I don't really care for Asian beer.  Not that that's the restaurant's fault.

The place is a bit of a closet, albeit a cozy one--all chunky wood paneling and mood lighting.  The waitstaff are helpful, if not what I'd call friendly--but then if I wanted my ass kissed I'd go to Red Robin.  As is my wont, I sat in the most out-of-the-way corner I could find just to see if they'd forget about me.  They didn't, and I wasn't kept waiting for hours on end, so what more do you want?

Recommended.