China Inn May Fall Short on Style, but It Does Help Fill Void

In his new, cranky but fascinating book, “Riding the Iron Rooster,” Paul Theroux describes in great detail the meals he encountered and sometimes ate while crisscrossing China on about two dozen trains.

Theroux was surprised at the number of times he found himself sharing these meals with Chinese who had visited the United States. What may be more surprising, at least to those of us who salivate at the thought of a plump, steamed dumpling with chili oil-vinegar dipping sauce, is that Theroux’s well-traveled table mates universally found Chinese food in large American cities to be somewhere between bad and inedible.

After all, conventional wisdom has it that New York, San Francisco, Vancouver and Toronto are shining citadels of Chinese gastronomy, with those of us in other burgs benefiting by virtue of the trickle-down theory as chefs leave established Chinatowns and search out new horizons.

There Was Nothing to Complain About

Until recently, any of Theroux’s dining companions who visited San Diego’s beach neighborhoods would have found virtually nothing about which to complain, simply because, for whatever reason, these areas’ restaurant landscapes have featured a remarkable scarcity of Chinese eateries. Pacific Beach alone is home to a sufficient number of restaurants to serve a medium-size city, but for years a single, unexciting Cantonese cafe has been the sole outpost of la cuisine chinoise .

This situation has brightened somewhat with the opening of China Inn, a better-than-average Chinese house that lacks style but does turn out some good cooking. The place occupies rather utilitarian premises that long housed a coffee shop (Pacific Beach consequently is now shy on coffee shops, but what neighborhood isn’t?), and the bare tables and strong lighting invite one to linger no longer than one might have over soup and crackers under the ancien regime .

The service also is in the dismal beach style, tinged by so absolute an absence of formality that one feels, rather unsettlingly, back home in the family kitchen, being waited upon by a recalcitrant younger sibling. In other words, this is one of those places where the servers toss forks dirtied by one course back onto the table, rather than bringing clean silver. Objections to this most objectionable practice were poorly received on both of two recent visits.

But the appetizer list, once one gets past the pedestrian egg rolls (soggy and listless, they featured a tasteless and mushy filling), shows that the kitchen houses a few enthusiastic personnel. The shrimp toast, fried triangles of bread spread with shrimp paste and a thick coating of sesame seeds, were wonderfully aromatic; with these, indiscriminate dipping in mustard or plum sauce would obscure the whole point.

Many Chinese restaurants serve a pseudo-Chinese preparation, called rumaki , of chicken livers and sliced water chestnuts wrapped in bacon, and this frankly can be a tasty dish. China Inn goes this one better by simply giving a handful of livers a quick saute and serving them with a spiced vinegar garnished with minced scallion tops. The vinegar, heated with a few drops of chili oil, brings a certain rich succulence to this humble meat.

The fried dumplings, which used to be a rarity on local menus but have become rather commonplace of late, are done quite nicely, and are served with bowls of chili oil and shredded ginger in vinegar. Mixed with soy sauce, these ingredients make a fine sauce, and part of the pleasure comes from combining them to taste, increasing the dosage of chili oil or ginger according to the mood of the moment. Be wary of any restaurant that sets out a premixed dumpling dip.

Only One Unfamiliar Specialty

The menu is prefaced by a specialties section that highlights a dozen dishes. Only one is unfamiliar, and it actually sounds somewhat dubious; this would be the coconut chicken, described as “served in exotic flame, with special tropical coconut sauce.”

But there are some fine dishes here, including the sweet and pungent shrimp--an immense improvement on the standard Cantonese sweet and sour--and the Peking Queen’s chicken. The shrimp, battered and fried, repose with crunchy broccoli florets in a mildly hot, somewhat sweet sauce that takes on a pleasant pungency through the simple agency of distilled vinegar. The chicken tosses together a great many compatible ingredients, including cubed white meat, musky black mushrooms, ears of baby corn and cashews, with a sauce based on red wine. The hint of red wine, a most un-Chinese element, makes a teasing reference to French cooking and gives the dish an unusual and likable flavor.

The menu otherwise dances down a lengthy roll of well-known dishes. A goodly number are from the Szechuan and Mandarin schools, which specify chili heat to a greater or lesser degree, but there are plenty of choices for the faint-hearted and, in any case, one should always aim for balance when ordering a Chinese meal. Remember also that mild dishes seem flavorless when they follow ragingly hot preparations, so taste the milder dishes first. This works on the same principle that dictates the service of white wine before red.

Batter-Coated Shreds of Meat

Among dishes sampled and found pleasing was the crispy beef, or batter-coated shreds of meat in a hot vinegar sauce; shredded carrots, celery and bell pepper work to leaven the spicy tang and also make the dish more substantial.

Moo shu dishes remain as popular as sweet and sour concoctions at most local Chinese restaurants, and China Inn served a credible version made with shredded pork. The Szechuan beef seemed somewhat coarse compared with versions served elsewhere, primarily because the meat had been cut in large pieces and cooked on the rare side--this dish is best when the meat is finely cut, well done and chewy .

Pan-fried noodles were typically oily and quite flavorful; these can be ordered with any number of garnishes, including a strictly vegetarian model. Another good vegetarian dish is the Szechuan specialty called, because of its appearance, “ants climbing the tree.” This mildly hot preparation of delicate bean thread noodles usually is garnished with minced pork, but China Inn substitutes scrambled eggs for a lighter but nonetheless succulent effect.

CHINA INN

877 Hornblend St., Pacific Beach

483-6680

Lunch and dinner daily

Credit cards accepted

Dinner for two, including a glass of wine each, tax and tip, about $18 to $35.