Generic Look Belies Linlee’s Above-Average Chinese Fare

Who introduced the spit curl?

Who knows--and who cares, for that matter. America’s arbiters of taste often are anonymous, perhaps never more than at the present, but, whoever they are, they wield a subtly pervasive influence that creates consistency in the unlikeliest situations.

Some unknown soul evidently has decreed that new, mid-range Chinese restaurants in San Diego County should be decorated in peach and aquamarine. There’s nothing much wrong with this color scheme, of course, other than that it suggests the lobbies of budget motels found along the interstates. However, it is more than a little unsettling that virtually all of the Chinese restaurants that have opened in the last two years look so alike. The sameness gives a generic feel to places that actually may be quite distinct from the pack.

The new Linlee’s in La Mesa looks like all the others, only more so, since there is more of it at this large, spacious eatery. Besides the obligatory, repeated shades of peach and aqua blue--if you dine in such places often enough, you start to forget exactly where you are--the restaurant boasts a good many mirrors and lighting several degrees brighter than it needs to be. These features, also, unfortunately are widespread.

A notable difference is the location directly behind the San Diego Trolley stop in downtown La Mesa. This may be the only Chinese restaurant so conveniently situated for carry-out through urban mass transit, an option that sometime may become increasingly appealing as the area matures and grows more congested.

The menu also is fairly standard, if, once again, there is more of it, but the cooking generally seems a notch or two above average. Unlike most contemporary places, the restaurant’s dalliance with the hotter side of Chinese cooking is fleeting. The emphasis seems much more squarely placed upon the milder dishes of Canton, which once were the only kind known here but have not received much attention of late.

Pan-fried noodles certainly are a signature dish of the Cantonese style, and Linlee’s offers a spectacular rendition (simply listed as Linlee’s pan-fried noodles) on the brief specialties section of the menu. Foreknowledge of the size of this dish is useful when ordering, since it will feed two quite generously by itself, and makes a second entree both superfluous and a likely candidate for a take-out container. The base, naturally, is a woven mass of thick, round noodles, al dente in the Chinese style and quite pleasingly resistant to the tooth. Their brief acquaintance with oil and a hot wok gives the noodles a gilded color that increases both savor and eye appeal. To this the kitchen adds a lavish garnish of vegetables (many kinds, but the hunks of Chinese cabbage are especially toothsome), shrimp, chicken and beef and a light brown sauce that satisfactorily wraps all the flavors together.

The generous use of vegetables--broccoli appears often, but doubtless with no political statement intended--marks many dishes and usually does so happily, except in the case of the chicken curry, which is long on great chunks of celery and onion and short on bird. The flavors in this dish are surprisingly indistinct for a curry, while the coarse textures of barely cooked celery and onion dominate. It is not good. The yu-hsiang broccoli, on the other hand, is a dish in which meat purposely plays a subsidiary but important role; the slices of pork that support the main ingredient give a richness that moderates the effect of the sticky, sweet-hot sauce, by which the broccoli on its own would be overwhelmed.

The specialties list is less interesting than elsewhere, although execution of these offerings seems first-rate. The “dry braised” lobster, based on a fresh beast from Maine cooked to order, has an appealing simplicity, and a less forcefully briny taste than sometimes typifies Chinese seafood dishes. The tomato-based sauce, while noted as spicy-hot, meets the tongue good-naturedly and seems merely well-seasoned. The Hunan-style beef, slivered, battered, fried and immersed in a moderately hot sauce, also is excellent.

The lack of novelty among appetizers is standard if discouraging, especially since the repertoire of Chinese snacks extends well beyond the realm of egg rolls and fried shrimp. As it is, Linlee’s egg rolls are typical, and satisfying only to those to whom a Chinese meal that lacked them would be unthinkable. Fried won ton are given literal interpretation here and amount to nothing more than crisped ribbons of dough, innocent of stuffing; these greasy lengths hold no appeal. The pot stickers, nicely stuffed and finely browned, do come off well; but ask for vinegar, slivered ginger and chili oil as a dip instead of the bland, muddy-brown sauce brought by the server. The soup list also takes the well-worn path, but includes a chicken-corn combo both lighter and more richly flavored than most. It is easy to tell that a real chicken, rather than a watery chicken broth, went into the confection of this full-bodied brew.

Among other dishes, Linlee’s uses the name “Imperial chicken” to designate the preparation more commonly known as “minced squab.” A parenthetical note describes it, amusingly if not without reason, as a “Chinese taco,” since the saute of fowl, mushrooms and onions is bundled into iceberg leaves. Linlee’s does this one very well.

LINLEE’S

4700 Spring St., La Mesa

465-8888, Lunch and dinner daily, Entrees cost $5.95 to $10.95; dinner for two, including a glass of wine each, tax and tip, about $25 to $45. Credit cards accepted