Steaming and yet dry as a bone, the plump nuggets of carbohydrate befuddled my mind like a raging, feverish dream. Canned mushrooms are fungi hell-spawn that can make even the tastiest of dishes deflate faster than a suicidal soufflé.īut Sing High's cardinal sin was its rice. I speak of canned mushrooms.Ī package of dried mushrooms meant for re-hydration before being added to a dish are cheap as chips, common to most forms of Chinese cuisine, and fairly tasty to boot. My main course, a noodle soup called 'Wor Mein,' was a Trojan horse packed with culinary rogues that ought not be trusted, let alone ingested. I felt my guard lowering - and at the worst possible time. Hardly revolutionary, these steamed and fried pouches filled with shredded vegetables and proteins were, at the very least, edible. When my dining companion noticed the years of dust clinging to the silk hanging 'plants' suspended over our heads (and our table), I ignored that, hoping the food would make up for the lack of ambience.įirst came a round of pot stickers and a pair of egg rolls. So I paid little heed to the drab dining areas that, admittedly, had a great deal in common with Luby's Cafeteria. I don't desire to have my lunch stacked in towers or topped with herby foams. I don't need to eat in a gilded palace surrounded by post-modern art work to enjoy a good sup. Generally speaking, I'm not much for obsessing over the dining experience. Surely, I thought as I rolled up to Sing High's front doors, a place that has existed for more than 80 years couldn't be a disappointment. I took comfort in this longevity, when sent here by my colleagues on this first dining dare. The self-described 'chop suey house' has been feeding Phoenicians' appetite for Cantonese fare since 1928. In an industry where keeping your doors open for even a few years is an arduous task, Sing High is an anomaly. Welcome to the first installment of Dare to Dine.

It's the most adventurous of eaters who are willing to risk back alley slop houses and decaying lunch counters to find out if the scariest of local eateries lead to Heaven or Hell. Then again, they might hold nothing more than a one-way ticket to whatever you stuffed down your gob firing back out from both ends. Often it's the joints that look the most questionable that hold the secrets of culinary enlightenment. Every town has a handful of sketchy restaurants.

House chop suey