We had an uncomfortable experience that I think is worth sharing.
After dining at PingPong, my friend wrote “not authentic” on the receipt. This wasn’t meant to be rude, but simply a comment on the food. We later went across the street to Wang’s Bar, which appears to share branding and likely ownership. Just before closing, a man who seemed to be the owner approached our table and abruptly asked, “Are you the ones who wrote ‘not authentic’?” He then said, “Our food is not supposed to be authentic,” and walked away immediately. There was no room for conversation, no attempt to engage. It felt more like a defensive ambush than a dialogue.
But to be honest, the issue wasn’t about authenticity anymore. It was about how they handled feedback, especially from Asian diners. As someone who has grown up eating all kinds of Chinese food, including plenty of Americanized versions, I think my friend would’ve been more accurate writing “not tasty” rather than “not authentic.”
The Bang Bang Chicken was a perfect example of poor execution. The chicken breast was dry and stringy, though there are many easy ways to keep it moist. It was drenched in an overly sweet chili sauce and paired with bitter cucumber that threw the entire dish off.
The Dan Dan noodles were equally disappointing. The noodles were mushy, perhaps to accommodate gluten-free diets, but the topping was a red wine-braised minced beef, which felt out of place. And again, there was that same bitter cucumber. Do they even know what makes Dan Dan noodles what they are?
What’s frustrating is not the “fusion” or “not authentic” concept. It is the way the restaurant leans into an Orientalist aesthetic, designed to appeal to Western diners with trendy visuals and exotic cues, while showing little openness or respect toward Asian guests. When someone who actually understands the cuisine offers feedback, the response is avoidance, deflection, or hostility.
I am not against experimentation or creativity. But when it is done carelessly and feedback is dismissed by those who might actually know better, it becomes a missed opportunity. That, to me, is what’s truly disappointing.