Fang - A photo essay in gastronomy

The Company You Keep: Ratto and Murphy

 There was a time, long before The Carpaccio Files, that a photoessay in gastronomy seemed impossible. The year was 1999. We were in Detroit. "We" were the Oakland A's traveling beat of Brian Murphy (That smiling man on the right), Susan Slusser, Mark Saxon, Gary Washburn, and me.
It was the final year of Tiger Stadium and in the dank corner of the press lounge (earlier I had nearly vomited from the overwhelming stench of bleach), Gary presided over an gastronomic nightmare: overdose heapings of potatoes and fried chicken, upon which the mighty G-Wash pumped frightening amounts of A-1 Steak Sauce.

I stopped him, horrified, and said, "Gary, A-1 is not for fried chicken. It's for steaks and marinades," to which he uttered a now famous line: "Tonight, fried is marinated."

How, from those unpolished beginnings, do Murph and I wind up at Fang, for what has become a tremendous tradition of daytime dining excellence?

And furthermore, how does Ray Ratto, King of Snapple, join us for the feast?

Fang Pork Buns with Cilantro

Sesame chicken with sweet potatoes, rice and green apple

Periodically, when I review the photos of these delights, I am reminded that it cost $500 just to walk into The French Laundry, a ridiculous, even criminal sum of money despite the fact that in one of their dishes they use Jerusalem artichokes, called "sunchokes." The sunchoke is neither from Israel nor an artichoke, but a type of sunflower, but I digress...

Mongolian Beef Tower

 The Mongolian Beef Tower, complete with haricots verts (That would be French for "green beans") was, for me, the height of gastronomic excellence - a staggering blend of spices and textures.


Of course, the name "Mongolian" also always brings to mind the wrestler Killer Khan, who like a Jerusalem artichoke was neither from Mongolia nor a killer - but Ozawa Masashi, from Japan, who according to Wrestlepedia, now owns a restaurant in Japan...

Killer Khan from Mongolia?

Still, before watching the WWF in the early 1980s, I had never heard of Mongolia...

Fang Five-Spice whitefish

 Meanwhile, the hits kept on coming...

Barbecued spare ribs

Fang onion cake

And a grasshopper mojito for me!

Fang after-lunch liquer

And finally,  cookies!

When it was over, and the cookies had been devoured and we debated whether that last dish (the Mongolian Tower) represented a fatal overkill, I saluted Peter Fang, had a picture taken with him and took a walk. Fang wins again...