pingpong

Ratings Guide:
Half handshake, half chest-bump hug – 5 stars
Chest bump – 4 stars
Fist bump – 3 stars
High five – 2 stars
Handshake – 1 star
Fone and fone – 0 stars
Manly ass slap – ½ star



Restaurant: pingpong
Location: 3322 N. Broadway

The great thing about Chicago is there are so many different neighborhoods, and each neighborhood has tons of great places to eat and drink. The bad thing about Chicago is that people don’t venture out of their neighborhoods enough. They stay close to home, which means they miss out on so many great places in this city.

I frequently fall victim to that, but I make an effort to get out and about as much as possible. What’s my point? Well, this review focuses on a little neighborhood joint in East Lakeview that is loved by the locals. It’s called pingpong.

pingpong features pan-Asian food. Quick story. Just the mention of ping-pong reminds me of the movie "Emmanuelle in Singapore". When I was a kid (like 7th or 8th grade), I used to go to a friends house for sleepovers, and every now and then we’d stay up late to watch Skinemax. The only movie I remember was "Emmanuelle in Singapore" and that’s because she did something with ping-pong balls I’d never seen before, and probably won’t ever see again. Unless I go to Tijuana. It was traumatizing. And enlightening. Anyway.

pingpong the restaurant. A friend lives in the area, and recommended it. The first time I went was on a Monday night. He lives nearby, and really liked the place, so I was expecting the best. I didn’t get it.

I ordered the calamari, and it was awful. Truly unenjoyable. I almost didn’t want the dinner, that’s how disappointed I was. For dinner I got the General’s Chicken (easily my favorite Chinese food dish ever. And I’m not even sure it’s authentic to China, but I’m sure my belly doesn’t care.). It’s hard to find great General’s Chicken. And this was no exception. It was for sure below average. I was unhappy. I wanted my money back, but the place is pretty reasonably priced, so there was no point.

The next day I let my friend know about my experience. He was shocked. He might have even gasped and clutched the pearls. He said there was a mistake and demanded that I go back.

Months later, I did. I ordered the exact same thing, and my second helping was much, much better. I told my friend that I was happier this time, but that I still thought the place was just “good” and not “great” or anything. He agreed. See, he liked the place because it was good food, dependable, and close to home. Whenever he need food and just wanted a place that was solid where he’d know he’d be happy, pingpong was one of those places for him. And really, that’s exactly what a neighborhood joint should be.

So, upon further review, I give pingpong a high five with a manly ass slap.