To stay current, food writers pay considerable attention to what’s new. Sometimes a place of considerable excellence can slip into the deeper levels of our consciousness. After writing about a disappointing visit to a Chinese restaurant recently, three different readers reminded me of such a place.

Great China has occupied a corner of Cobblestone Market since 1988. During the 80’s, Chinese restaurants were expanding as fast as strip malls in the suburbs. Many are long gone, chased by the expansion of buffets in later decades. Great China survived on excellence. Upon entering, one sees a photo of owner Chef Cheng at a table full of animals he had carved out of vegetables. He is a master of vegetable carving, a culinary art form as revered in Asia as barbecue is in America. For over 50 years, Cheng has been working in kitchens, including some of the largest hotels of Hong Kong, Seoul and Taipei. He’s a living culinary legend of Iowa and he’s still running the kitchen of this family restaurant.

Great China was in great shape physically. Carpeting, Chinese lanterns and carved furniture were so well maintained they looked brand new. Windows were clean on recent visits during Des Moines‘ monsoon season. Waiters wore black slacks, white ties and black vests. Meals were served on real China.

Little culinary clues suggested this place is special. Condiment jars on each table were filled with homemade sweet sauce and mustard. The ubiquitous corn-sweetened duck sauce that most local places push does not meet Cheng’s standards. His sauce is made with real fruit and, I think, a touch of citrus. Similarly, his ginger fish, Szechuan fish and pineapple fish dishes used walleye, considerably more expensive than the usual tilapia or pollock. Each lunch was served with a complimentary piece of fried chicken wing, an egg roll and a cup of soup. Each dinner entrée was served with a complimentary egg roll or crab Rangoon.

Great China still makes classic Cantonese and Mandarin dishes that have disappeared from many local Iowa menus, even abalone with black mushrooms. Cheng’s version of “shark’s fin soup” was made French Laundry style, duplicating the texture of shark’s fin (which has no taste) without consuming any part of an endangered species.

He substituted fish maw, like shark’s fin a member of the “Big Four” luxury foods of Chinese tradition. Ours were individually ladled tableside. Rich chicken stock was topped with meringue of egg whites. Scallions had been sliced into tiny needles, as only a master of knives could. A $9 serving filled four bowls and simulated my memories of a decadence that cost six times as much the last time I encountered it.

Peking duck is also served tableside here, though Cheng asks for 24 hours notice. We settled for crispy duck ($12.50) that delightfully delivered both crisp skin and moist meat that had been marinated in five spice, served with a plum sauce on a bed of sliced cabbage and razor thin carrots.

Sesame lamb was similarly both crunchy and moist inside with a delicious sesame covered sauce with broccoli.

Moo goo gai pan ($9.25) delivered incredibly moist chicken breast with black mushrooms, water chestnuts and snow peas in a subtle ginger sauce. Home style beef ($11) showed off knife skills again, with tender slices of beef, carrots and celery in spicy hoisin sauce.

Water glasses were refilled before they were empty. Flaming desserts ($5) were served tableside. Managers checked on each table. Leftovers were boxed and bagged by staff. Bottom line – I have not found a better Chinese restaurant in Iowa.

Great China
8569 Hickman Rd., 270-1688
Tues. – Thurs. 11 a.m. – 9 p.m., Fri. – Sat. 11 a.m. 10 p.m., Sun. brunch 11:15 a.m. – 2:30 p.m. , Sun. dinner 2:30 p.m. – 9 p.m.

Side Dishes

Des Moines Art Center’s café will be managed by Baru66 beginning in mid September. Their first lunch is reservation-only and filling fast.

Mother’s Day and Memorial Day left me scrambling for places to eat. On both occasions I met friends at a pre arranged spot after confirming that they would be open. They weren’t though their websites, front doors, and Facebook pages all indicated they were. It must be really difficult to post a Facebook message. Both times we fell back on a pansophy gleaned from travel – Asian restaurants are often open when others are closed.

The King & I was not only open on Mother’s Day but chef-owner Osmin “Mao” Heineman was dispensing long stemmed roses. She had just returned from her native Phetchabun, in her words “a dirt poor” farming community in Thailand. She had gone there to install water purification systems that she had underwritten. She’s good at saving money. That’s also how she made it out of Phetchabun, first to culinary college in Bangkok, then to America. We could not have found a more appropriate Mother’s Day host.

Warm weather is actually the best time for the classic soups of Thailand. Exotic ingredients like lemongrass, galangal and lime leaves are fresher and more local now. Mao makes chile pastes from fresh ingredients too. The 1997 international financial crisis, which started in Thailand, is named after tom yam kung.” At King & I, that soup featured shrimp in seafood stock with the ingredients mentioned above, plus fish sauce, fresh lime juice and mushrooms. We also tried two $3 soups that are the best values in Iowa. “Tom yum kai” is a chicken stock soup rich in sweet and spicy flavors. “Tom ka kai” is the same soup with coconut milk added.

King & I distinguishes itself in nuances. Thai dumplings, fried or steamed, are served with a black bean sauce. Colorful corn starch replaces the lighter panko in their tempura dishes. “Waterfall salad” tosses sliced New York strip over roasted rice flour and fresh greens in hot dressing.

“Haw mok” dishes steam heavily seasoned fish or seafood in custards of egg yolks and coconut milk, inside cups made out of banana leaves.

A Mother’s Day special presented two gorgeously seared lamb loin chops in a yellow coconut curry. Sticky rice was steeped in coconut milk, fried and served with fresh mango slices.

On a similar Memorial Day scramble I ended up at The Mandarin. That was the first place in Iowa I remember serving Peking duck in the classic manner. It also taught me to love baby bok choy, long before supermarkets here knew what that was. The café had reopened last year in Clive a few years after closing their Beaverdale store and I was excited to find them open.

Things had changed. Their Chinese menu is short and inexpensive now. There was no duck of any kind. Bok choy and other Chinese vegetables had been replaced, on every plate we ordered, with a lazy medley (broccoli florets, baby carrots, onions, green peppers and potatoes) more appropriate to Denny’s than a Chinese restaurant.

Stir fry dishes showed no knife skills. Honey walnut prawns were overly sweetened with both honey and brown sugar. Tofu had the texture of baby food. Water glasses were not refilled for a full 30 minutes. Potatoes were so undercooked we would have sent them back had anyone asked. Even though we talked for 20 minutes after paying our bill, no one picked up our plates, nor asked if we wanted “take home” boxes for our considerable leftovers. We didn’t.

King & I

1821 22^nd, West Des Moines, 440-2075

Mon. – Fri. 11 a.m. – 2:30 p.m., 4:30 – 9 p.m.

Sat. – Sun. noon – 9 p.m.

The Mandarin

1250 NW 128th St., Clive, 327-5988

Mon. – Thurs. 11 a.m. – 2 p.m., 4 p.m. – 9 p.m., Fri. 11 a.m. – 2 p.m., 4 p.m. 10 p.m., Sat. 11 a.m. – 10 p.m., Sun. 11a.m. – 9 p.m.

La Rosa opened ten years ago. Rosa Martinez was a already a local legend then, first for selling tamales in the parking lot of the original La Tapatia Tienda, then for vending home made chicken dinners in parking lots of Hispanic businesses.
From the beginning, visits to La Rosa were more like visiting someone’s home than their restaurant. Guests watched as Rosa and her husband Noe Ruiz tended to them as well as their own children. Out of respect, Rosa would become Dona Rosa to many. In her comprehensive, bilingual memory she recalled exactly what guests had ordered on previous visits, no matter how many years had passed. She always seemed to be making something new that she wanted customers to try. One literary friend compared her to characters from the magical realist novels of Jorge Amado whose heroines summon the better angels of our being through cooking.

The legend grew. Rosa commissioned a Los Angeles muralist to cover her building with animated foods. Despite hundreds of signatures of support, and not a single complaint, the city then forced her to paint over every part of the mural except for a single, inedible rose.

She also became the Hispanic queen of the holidays. On Christmas eves, customers would form a block long line at her door to retrieve tamale reservations. Those stuffed corn meal treats became border crossing heirlooms. Rosa’s family came from Gomez Farias in Michoacan, a town once surrounded by cornfields and rich in tamale tradition. After the North Atlantic Free Trade Agreement, cheap American corn was imported and flowers were grown in its place.

The last three years were harder for Rosa and Noe. Carpal tunnel syndrome forced her to stop hand making tortillas, except on special occasions. Taco trucks cut into their business. “Lots of customers don’t want to come indoors with dirty boots,” Rosa explained. Others said that employers had cut lunch breaks down to encourage employees to go for faster food.

Last September 18, in a sudden, unimaginable moment, Dona Rosa’s world slipped its axis. Noe died of a heart attack while remodeling a house by himself. Rosa’s grief was as epic as that of characters from Emily Brontë or Isabella Allende. As she recalled that day recently, her memory was punctuated with precise recollections of passing time – four and a half hours between the last time she saw Noe alive and the moment she discovered his cold body on a bathroom floor; two minutes between calling for help and hearing any voice; ten minutes before any help arrived; three months before she even remotely felt like herself again. She dwelled on mysteries. Why did she playfully tip toe into the house to surprise him that day? Why did he drink an energy drink, he never did that? How could he die just an hour or so after a doctor’s appointment? Why were they too busy to have lunch together?

For months, she did not think she could ever reopen a restaurant so full of Noe’s spirit. She even sold it once but that deal fell apart while she was spreading his ashes in Guanajuato. Supportive family kept encouraging her to reopen though.
With lots of family, including several children that customers had watched grow up, Rosa returned to her kitchen on the last weekend in April. She even pressed her own fresh, thick tortillas for the occasion. There were new, off-the-menu specials – birria made with beef, guajillos and New Mexican chiles; and catfish soup. Hand cut steaks, freshly made salsas, seafood stews, menudo, stem-on chiles rellenos, enchiladas, gorditas, tortas, burritos, and tacos with multiple choices of protein complemented the specialties.

Restored magic boosted the spirits of customers. So let it be with Dona Rosa.

La Rosa
2312 Forest Ave, 255-9520
Wed. – Mon. 10 a.m. – 9 p.m.

Older folks pine for the days when butcher shops sold meat, greengrocers retailed fruits and vegetables, milk trucks delivered dairy products, and dry grocers sold canned goods. People too young to remember that era just wonder how much time was wasted grocery shopping. Food nostalgia wears racehorse blinders – it longs for what is gone without considering why it went away. After WW II, supermarkets replaced that old system because even old sentimentalists were once young and busy enough to value convenience over specialization. Restaurants later emulated the supermarket model. Single page menus became books with many chapters.

After the new millennium, a reactionary nostalgia began supporting simpler, more specialized restaurant choices. People flocked to food trucks, and particularly to events that featured food trucks. Brick and mortar cafés began acknowledging this too. Fifteen years ago in Des Moines, the only restaurants named after a single food were very old chains like Burger King, Maid-Rite, Taco Bell, etc., plus coffee, pizza and steak houses. KFC even changed their name to sound less specific. Since then, specialization bounced back in Des Moines with multiple new places named for: noodles, barbecue, burritos, frozen yogurt, egg rolls, cupcakes, pho, burek, and sushi.

Hot Shots, the latest specialist, celebrates the oldest processed food in the world. Homer wrote about sausage in “The Odyssey.” It has a big city pedigree. Partner Tony Lemmo says that Hot Doug’s is his restaurant idol. That Chicago sausage café is an American classic with exotic’s like wild game and duck fat fries as well as inexpensive hot dogs. Partner James Bruton moved here from Chicago. Lemmo also says the menu is a work in progress.

Hot Shots opened with eleven sandwiches, specific combos of sausage and dressing that are to hot dogs what Zombie burgers are to hamburgers. They were made with just five kinds of sausage, currently supplied by multiple vendors and lockers – Italian, beef, andouille, kielbasa and duck. Other than that, home made dishes were restricted to “Hot Shot tots” and pasta salad. Chips, ice cream sandwiches and drumsticks were also sold.

Four dogs were made with a good all beef sausage in a soft casing. “Cruiser” was a basic ball park hot dog, with ketchup, onions and mustard, but without the dreadful chicken sausage many ball parks now sell. “James Dean” was a virtual Chicago dog, without the Vienna sausage, but with relish, pickle spears, mustard, celery salt, tomato and peppers (Peppadaws subbed for sport peppers). “Katja Poensgen,” named like several dogs for a motor bike, was a sort of hot dog reuben dressed in sauerkraut, Swiss cheese, Russian dressing, tomatoes and caraway seeds. “Steve McQueen” was a virtual coney with home made Cincinnati style chili, cheddar, onion, tomatoes and cilantro.

Kielbasa, also housed in a soft casing, was neither too salty nor too sweet like many Polish sausages are. It featured in “Marlon Brando, with pickled carrots, radish and bologna and in “Softail” with two kinds of onions, cream cheese and jalapenos. Superb duck sausage starred in the exotic “Royal Enfield” with curried cheese curds, pineapple-pear chutney, scallions and cilantro. A rather mild Italian sausage was well suited for its “Moto Guzzi” application with Provolone, Romano, giardinara and hot peppers. It also featured in a red gravy drenched “Valentino Rossi” with onions and cheeses.

My favorite dog was “CB750,” even though it was the most difficult to eat. Its andouille casing resisted my teeth while its toppings – horseradish mayo, caramelized onions, slaw, cucumbers and tomatoes – quickly soaked its bun apart. Do not try eating this one while walking around the sculpture park across the street. Sit down and savor it, like an old memory.

Hot Shots
1220 Locust Ave., 369-3644
Mon. – Sat. 11 a.m. – 3 p.m.

 Twenty five years ago this publication began subjecting readers to the reflections of an alcoholic who had recently quit drinking. I thought that gave me an alternative point of view and editors agreed. At that time, this paper was named Skywalker showing pride in the ambitious system that was dramatically transforming downtown life.

Winston’s was on its way to elevating the restaurant bar in town. Mike LaValle (Embassy Club) was running the place then and George Formaro (a James Beard Awards top 20 restaurateurs in America) was a baker and chef. Locust Mall Food Court was packed with vendors tempting downtown workers to ditch their brown bags and go out for a hot meal. The best of those restaurants was called Eat at Joe’s – the first café for Joe Carey who would later own some of the finest places in Colorado resort country. Steve (Lucca) and Joe (La Mie) Logsdon also started retailing in that food court. In Capitol Square, Stella’s Blue Sky Diner had become an instant tourist attraction as the teens of March Madness skywalked a wistful downtown experience that included prom dresses and malts poured on their heads.

On a recent rainy week, I revisited the skywalk to take stock of a quarter century of temperature controlled changes. From the outside, Winston’s looked the same, even though it’s been closed nearly three years now. Nearby I passed the first of many buskers I would see in the skywalk, one who offered cupcakes as well as songs. Junko Japanese Café, which closed a year ago to remodel, then reopened with higher prices, looked closed again. It could be the first casualty of Walnut Street’s predicted revival – state of the art Wasabi Tao is only one block and one flight of stairs away.

Stella’s old space now houses Amigo’s, the second Mexican café to follow it. I found a sensibly condensed version of the menu format that works well at places like El Rodeo and Monterey. Lunches of entrée, beans and rice sold quickly for $5 – $10. Pablo’s, a long term skywalk veteran, was still turning out more interesting Mexican food across from a empty venue that had seen a number of good restaurants (from Coney Island to Indian Grill) come and go. Several bays were vacant in the Kaleidoscope Food Court (KFC). I found an excellent yellow curry chicken at JJ Jasmine there, rich in curry paste and coconut milk. Huge crowds nearby at Palmer’s and Bruegger’s might explain the vacancies in the KFC.

Back where it began, in the Locust Mall, Flarah’s looked closed. Long time veterans Golden Chicken, Gazali’s, Taste Spuds, and Panda still starred at the Locust Mall’s food court.

The newcomer there is Las Americas where I enjoyed a $5 lunch that included excellent fresh salsa, chips, beans, rice and chile rellenos stuffed with the ubiquitous “Mexican cheese whiz” that oozes saltiness.

Because he was a prime driver for building the skywalk system, I asked former mayor Dick Olson what were the best and worst things about it. “Biggest mistake was not building downtown housing sooner. Best thing was that we kept Bankers Life (now Principal Financial Group) in Des Moines. They had other plans at the time,” he admitted.

Coincidentally, I found my best skywalk lunch experience in The Principal’s headquarters. It came with a food pedigree. Basil Prosperi‘s is owned by Andy Logsdon, a nephew of Steve and Joe Logsdon. An efficient service line delivered my orders to a table set with fresh flowers. Family specialties included fresh baked La Mie breads, home made salad dressings with good greens, and pasta sauces that featured good cheeses and deep marinara. Fresh stock soups (roasted red pepper, jalapeno cream, etc.) were as good as any in town. Buttery cookies were irresistible.

Side Dishes

Flarah’s announced it was closing both its stores… Fleming’s $37 Mothers Day brunch includes a $25 gift card for moms.

Basil Prosperi’s, 801 Grand Ave., 244-2070

Mon. – Fri. 10:30 a.m. – 2:30 p.m.

Two new Balkan cafés sprouted last winter on a stretch of Merle Hay Road that already hosted Estrada and Tropik. Both new cafés specialize in burek, an historic category of baked foods. Last year, Lonely Planet, the world’s most popular travel publisher, praised the dish in its guide to “The World’s Best Street Food.” For the western world, that represented a coming out party for a thousand year old dish created for sultans.

Tour guides in Turkey eagerly inform culinary visitors that the world’s only truly “classical” cuisines are Chinese and Turkish. The glory that was classical Roman cuisine hid from the Dark Ages in Constantinople until it was sacked by the Ottomans. Those wily diners were already using most of the tools of the modern pantry by the 11th century. They then developed “The Spice Route” to refine their sense of taste. When the French were subsisting on gruel, Ottoman sultans employed 1300 chefs in Topkapi Palace alone, many devoted to the baking arts. Turkish burek spread throughout the Ottoman Empire. Jews took it to Eastern Europe, where it became pierogi and piroc.

Basically, the word “burek” refers to all forms of stuffed pastry made with folded dough. Folding dough laminates a pastry, creating flaky layers like one finds in scratch-made croissants. Depending upon what is stuffed inside, burek are eaten at any meal of the day.

At 3B Grill I found extremely flaky burek, coiled like an inflated cinnamon roll and stuffed with beef, sort of a Maid-Rite stuffed croissant for the unintiated.

I also tried nicely crusted gyros on conventional pita, lavished with tzatziki sauce. Chicken kebabs needed tzatziki to cover their dryness. Cevapi (beef sausages) were much better. Like older Americanized Balkan cafés in Central Iowa, 3B’s menu included burgers, onion rings, fries, and several kinds of chicken wings. Turkish and espresso coffee were available. Loud Balkan rock and pop music played on big screen TV ‘s which were watched intently by my waitress. Questions were barely answered, if at all. 

The café Burek seemed less Americanized and much friendlier. Their walls, logo, menu and staff T shirts all resembled the bright yellow and sky blue flag of Bosnia-Herzegovina. Unobtrusive folk music played gaily. Questions were cheerfully answered in detail. The place buzzed on my visits, with one person after another stopping in mostly to pick up carryout orders, even though the café delivers.

I tried a “slagani zeljanica,” a layered, round burek filled with soft feta and spinach, with eggs as a binder. (When ordered with only cheese it’s called a “slagani srinica.”) It was delightful but heavy as a deep dish pizza. Twelve inches in diameter and nearly two inches high, its leftovers alone weighed a couple pounds.

It was light though compared to my “motani burek” a pastry that was coiled and stuffed. Though laminated nicely, it was much denser and more buttery than the similar burek at 3D. “Zyrkovi,” a much smaller burek were also offered with beef, cheese, and spinach as well as “krompiruša” style, a vegetarian form with potatoes.

Chicken kebabs, cevapi and apple pie pastries were also offered but no burgers, wings or fries. A bakery case carried breakfast burek not on the menu. Utensils and dinnerware were exceptional. Turkish coffee was served in copper “cezves.”

“Tulumba,” laminated pastry soaked in simple syrup, were as sweet as any dessert I’ve tasted. Balkan sodas, mineral waters and buttermilk were sold at domestic soda prices.

Side Dishes

Rock Bottom offers daily specials through Sunday to celebrate Craft Beer Week… Maryland soft shell crab season begins May 22 at Waterfront with four versions offered in the dining room.

3B Grill
3500 Merle Hay Rd., 331-7787
Sun and Tues. – Thurs. 10 a.m. – 8 p.m., Fri. – Sat. 10 a.m. – 9 p.m.

Burek
2922 Merle Hay Rd, 255-3535
Tues. – Sat. 10 a.m. 8 p.m., Sun. 10 a.m. – 7 p.m.

Two new Balkan cafés sprouted last winter on a stretch of Merle Hay Road that already hosted Estrada and Tropik. Both new cafés specialize in burek, an historic category of baked foods. Last year, Lonely Planet, the world’s most popular travel publisher, praised the dish in its guide to “The World’s Best Street Food.” For the western world, that represented a coming out party for a thousand year old dish created for sultans.

Tour guides in Turkey eagerly inform culinary visitors that the world’s only truly “classical” cuisines are Chinese and Turkish. The glory that was classical Roman cuisine hid from the Dark Ages in Constantinople until it was sacked by the Ottomans. Those wily diners were already using most of the tools of the modern pantry by the 11^th century. They then developed “The Spice Route” to refine their sense of taste. When the French were subsisting on gruel, Ottoman sultans employed 1300 chefs in Topkapi Palace alone, many devoted to the baking arts. Turkish burek spread throughout the Ottoman Empire. Jews took it to Eastern Europe, where it became pierogi and piroc.

Basically, the word “burek” refers to all forms of stuffed pastry made with folded dough. Folding dough laminates a pastry, creating flaky layers like one finds in scratch-made croissants. Depending upon what is stuffed inside, burek are eaten at any meal of the day.

At 3B Grill I found extremely flaky burek, coiled like an inflated cinnamon roll and stuffed with beef, sort of a Maid-Rite stuffed croissant for the unintiated. I also tried nicely crusted gyros on conventional pita, lavished with tzatziki sauce. Chicken kebabs needed tzatziki to cover their dryness. Cevapi (beef sausages) were much better. Like older Americanized Balkan cafés in Central Iowa, 3B’s menu included burgers, onion rings, fries, and several kinds of chicken wings. Turkish and espresso coffee were available. Loud Balkan rock and pop music played on big screen TV ‘s which were watched intently by my waitress. Questions were barely answered, if at all.

The café Burek seemed less Americanized and much friendlier. Their walls, logo, menu and staff T shirts all resembled the bright yellow and sky blue flag of Bosnia-Herzegovina. Unobtrusive folk music played gaily. Questions were cheerfully answered in detail. The place buzzed on my visits, with one person after another stopping in mostly to pick up carryout orders, even though the café delivers.

I tried a “slagani zeljanica,” a layered, round burek filled with soft feta and spinach, with eggs as a binder. (When ordered with only cheese it’s called a “slagani srinica.”) It was delightful but heavy as a deep dish pizza. Twelve inches in diameter and nearly two inches high, its leftovers alone weighed a couple pounds. It was light though compared to my “motani burek” a pastry that was coiled and stuffed. Though laminated nicely, it was much denser and more buttery than the similar burek at 3D. “Zyrkovi,” a much smaller burek were also offered with beef, cheese, and spinach as well as “krompiruša” style, a vegetarian form with potatoes.

Chicken kebabs, cevapi and apple pie pastries were also offered but no burgers, wings or fries. A bakery case carried breakfast burek not on the menu. Utensils and dinnerware were exceptional. Turkish coffee was served in copper “cezves.” “Tulumba,” laminated pastry soaked in simple syrup, were as sweet as any dessert I’ve tasted. Balkan sodas, mineral waters and buttermilk were sold at domestic soda prices.

Side Dishes

Rock Bottom offers daily specials through Sunday to celebrate Craft Beer Week… Maryland soft shell crab season begins May 22 at Waterfront with four versions offered in the dining room.

3B Grill

3500 Merle Hay Rd., 331-7787

Sun and Tues. – Thurs. 10 a.m. – 8 p.m., Fri. – Sat. 10 a.m. – 9 p.m.

Burek

2922 Merle Hay Rd, 255-3535

Tues. – Sat. 10 a.m. 8 p.m., Sun. 10 a.m. – 7 p.m.

Mandarin Grilland Sushi Bar

“An Authentic Bite of China”

Yijie Du 

Yijie Du is an exchange student from theSichuan International Studies University in Southwestern China. She isfinishing a year of study at Drake University in Des Moines. 

The interior of Mandarin Grill and Sushi Bar 

In a small city like Des Moines, where only 4percent of the population is of Asian descent, I didn’t expect to find realChinese food like I might in Los Angeles, New York, or San Francisco. However,Mandarin Grill and Sushi Bar in Clive turned out to be a delightful jolt of FarEast culinary tradition as well as a savor journey back home.

Hidden in a strip mall, the restaurantpresents a deceptively modest outward appearance. Once inside, you’ll find a fairlyroomy space with more than 20 tables and booths and a six-seat sushi bar. The décoris modern, with touches of traditional Chinese elements. Dim lighting casts aserene glow on glossy rosewood furniture.

At 6 on a Monday evening recently, the boothswere all occupied. A waitress brought us glasses of ice water and two separatemenus. One menu caters to the American appetite with dishes like pot stickers,Mongolian beef and General Tso’s chicken.

My interest is in the second menu, whichfeatures traditional Chinese recipes with a family history. Chef and ownerKevin Liu took over the locally established Mandarin (originally located in theBeaverdale neighborhood) from his mother, a first-generation Chinese immigrant.

It’s my third trip to Mandarin, and I still can’tresist the strong temptation for Tza Djang Mien: boiled noodles in a rich meatsauce, mixed with black bean paste ($10). Topped with shredded cucumbers,onions, shrimps, sea cucumbers, squid rings and a dark brown sauce, it is asavory celebration of meat, seafood, veggies and grain. Plentiful sauce makesMandarin’s version even better than home for me. But the seafood in the noodlesis an odd extra that breaks with tradition.

Mapo Tofu from Mandarin Grill and Sushi Bar

Another mouth-watering entree I am obsessedwith is Mapo Tofu, a regular Szechuan cuisine ($10). Served with green beans,scallions, hot chilies, water chestnuts, chopped pork and tofu, the dish glistenswith a bright blend of colors: green, red and white. Each bite offers a perfectmingling of textures with the crisp chestnuts, the delicate tofu, the spicysauce, and the savory meat. The only thing missing is a seasoning of Szechuanpeppercorn.

I also recommend Yushang Eggplant (Eggplantin garlic sauce, $10). Mandarin does a solid job on this distinctive Szechuancuisine with the peculiar “fishy flavor” tradition. The eggplant peel may be abit tough but it doesn’t disturb the sweet and spicy joy.

If you like spicy food, choose La Ja Gi (hotand spicy chicken, $12). The crisp crust and the tender meat wrap around yourtongue tip with a sharp twist. Turn up the heat by requesting the dish done “Kevinstyle.”

What makes the Mandarin stand out amongChinese restaurants in Des Moines is its authentic flavor. Every dish is madefrom scratch with fresh ingredients and thoughtful cooking. Bright colors,appetizing smells and tangy tastes create a perfect harmony—the sheer beauty ofChinese cuisine. 

Mandarin Grill and Sushi Bar

1250 NW. 128^th St. (just north of60^th and University)

http://mandaringrillandsushibar.com