San Francisco's world-famed Chinatown, like the rest of the city, is
changed since the big fire, and the Chinatown of today is but a
reminiscence of the old Oriental city that was set in the midst of the
most thriving Occidental metropolis--The City That Was. There has never
been much of Chinatown that savored of Bohemianism, but it has always
been the vogue for visitors to make a trip through its mysterious
alleys, peering into the fearsome dark doorways, listening to the
ominous slamming doors of the "clubs," and shuddering in a delightful
horror at the recumbent opium smokers, pointed out to them by the
industrious guide. And when they were taken into one of the gambling
houses and shown the double doors, and the many contrivances used to
prevent police interference with the innocent games of fan tan and then
were shown the secret underground passage leading from one of the
gambling houses to the stage of the great Chinese theatre, two blocks
away, they went home ready to believe anything told them about "the ways
that are dark and tricks that are vain," for they were sure "the heathen
Chinee was peculiar."
Chinese restaurant life never appealed to Bohemians, and when it became
necessary to entertain visitors with a trip to a Chinatown restaurant
the ordinary service was of tea and rice cakes, served from lacquered
trays, in gaudy rooms, and the admiring visitors could well imagine
themselves in "far off Cathay."
Then came the fire and Chinatown, with the rest of the down-town portion
of San Francisco, passed away. In the rebuilding the owners of the
properties concluded to give the quarter a more Chinese aspect and
pagoda like structures are now to be found in all parts of the section.
The curiosity of the tourist is an available asset to Chinatown, and
with queer houses and queerer articles on sale there is always plenty of
uninitiated to keep the guides busy, but from a city of more than
twenty-five thousand Orientals in the midst of an enlightened city--an
Asiatic city that had its own laws and executed its criminals with the
most utter disregard for American laws, it has changed into one of the
most law-abiding parts of the great city. With the passing of the queue
came the adoption of the American style of dressing, and much of the
picturesqueness of the old Chinatown has disappeared.
But with the changed conditions there has come a change in the
restaurant life of the quarter, and now a number of places have been
opened to cater to Americans, and on every hand one sees "chop suey"
signs, and "Chinese noodles." It goes without saying that one seldom
sees a Chinaman eating in the restaurants that are most attractive to
Americans. Some serve both white and yellow and others serve but the
Chinese, and a few favored white friends.
Probably the best restaurant in Chinatown is that of the Hang Far Low
Company, at 723 Grant avenue. Here is served such a variety of strange
dishes that one has to be a brave Bohemian, indeed, to partake without
question. Ordinarily when Chinese restaurants are mentioned but two
dishes are thought of--chop suey and chow main. But neither is
considered among the fine dishes served to Chinese epicures. It is much
as if one of our best restaurants were to advertise hash as its
specialty. Both these dishes might be termed glorified hash. The
ingredients are so numerous and so varied with occasion that one is
tempted to imagine them made of the table leavings, and that is not at
all pleasant to contemplate.
We asked one of the managers at the Hang Far Low what he would order if
he wished to get the best dish prepared in the restaurant, and he was
even more emphatic in his shrugs than the French or Italian managers. He
protested that there were so many good things it was impossible to name
just one as being the best. "You see, we have fish fins, they are very
good. Snails, China style. Very good, too. Then we have turtle brought
from China, different from the turtle they have here, and we cook it
China style. Eels come from China and they are cooked China style, too.
What is China style? That I cannot tell you for the cook knows and
nobody else. When we cook China style everything is more better. We have
here the very best tea."
This may be taken as a sample of what to expect when visiting
Chinatown's restaurants, and while we confess to having some excellent
dishes served us in Chinatown, our preference lies in other paths of
endeavor. We suppose it is all in the point of view, and our point of
view is that there is nothing except superficiality in the ordinary
Chinese restaurants frequented by Americans, and those not so
frequented are impossible because of the average Chinaman's disregard
for dirt and the usual niceties of food preparation.