There was time to kill before my doctor’s appointment and my stomach had long forgotten last night’s popcorn dinner. I’m not a fast food devotee, but for some reason my car drove into Panda Express and dared me to go in. The parking lot was crowded – it was Noon after all – and I figured “What the heck. It’s just one meal.”
I’d seen Panda Express in other places, particularly at oases on the tollroads, but I hadn’t ever checked it out. I’m not a tollroad food devotee either.
On entering the establishment I saw a line of customers moving steadily in front of a glass case filled with giant woks that, in turn, were filled with various menu items. I joined the line not having the slightest clue what to do, but when I reached the first wok, a cheery server asked if I wanted my meal to go or to eat in.
“Eat in,” I said on the theory that if it wasn’t good it wouldn’t go home with me.
“Fried rice or noodles?”
“Neither.”
Her disappointment was palpable; she looked at the paper plate in her hands as if apologizing to it.
“It’s cheaper if you get the noodles or rice.”
Being the analytical type I could have challenged that. What’s cheaper? How does getting noodles or rice make it so? But there were hungry people on their lunch hour behind me, and I didn’t want to cause a breakdown in Chinese/American relations.
I moved along in front of the glass case and pointed to a couple items that looked familiar on the basis of shape. Those round pink things must be shrimp. That tenderized looking chuck could be chicken. And is that okra I see hugging the red peppers? You don’t see okra in a lot of places.
At the end of the glass case stood a cashier, who asked one more time if I wanted fried rice or noodles. I shook my head and handed over $8.75 upon request. I found an empty table and sat. Jiggled out of my coat and sighed. Stabbed one of the shrimp with my plastic fork and tried to be objective. But when you’ve eaten at the Moon Palace in Chicago’s Chinatown, where the food is spectacular, it’s difficult. It took only a few bites to know that Panda Express and I were not destined for each other.
As a side note, when I got home I went online to check the Panda out. As of 2011, the latest year the site provided statistics, there are 1539 restaurants in forty-four states. That’s a lot of MSG.
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