An open letter to everyone who recommended Oriental Kitchen in Oakland. Following your sage advice, I suggested a small intimate dinner there with a close friend. A close friend who may never speak to me again. And I won't blame her either. Never mind the "authentic" Chinese stylings of Rockwell and Phil Collins that played softly over the almost inobtrusive sound system while we dined. Nevermind all this bullshit about an "alternate menu" (I mean really, what kind of crap is that? Either the concern is that whiteys are too stupid to handle the real thing, in which case, I'm annoyed; or it's a cheap gimmick to make local hicks feel like they've stumbled on a real "find," a real "treasure" (speaking of which, yes, our dinner DID wind up buried on the compost heap when we brought our leftovers home), when in fact they're really being treated to the sort of authentic cooking that Chinese pensioners turn their noses down on. In which case, I pity you all for falling so easily into their evil trap; and believe me, it is an evil trap), the bottom line is that the food sucked. The noodles were salty, the broccoli was too sweet (I'm not into picking chunks of sugar out of my teeth), and the tofu was bland. You bastards!! I don't know why I somehow thought that the opinions I got online would be any better than the opinions I overhear on line at the Giant Eagle. It's not a mistake I'll make again. Love, Tad
Pittsburgh, PA