Issue #16/71, August 12 - 26, 1999  

We live in a city of hucksters, folks. So when the promotional flyer for a restaurant called Mao promises "all the best of Mexican, Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Italian, Malaysian, Thai, Indonesian, and Indian cuisine," it should come as no surprise when the actual food is simply more or less Russified Chinese with only the vaguest hints of Japanese and Thai tossed in. So, let's give it a try, h'm?

Whatever you do, definitely do not skip over the soups, probably Mao's finest moment. We had the Bali green soup (150R), which was only mildly spiced but very tasty. Other options include a cold fruit soup with cherry (130R) and a red hot and sour soup (215R), which comes highly recommended by some of my friends in the legal profession. I've also heard good things about the spring rolls, although at least one of the varieties in our assortment was conspicuously seasoned with dill. The kim-chi (100R) is a rather pungent, if nonstandard version of the old favorite; steer clear of the bland "Thai" fried appetizer (170R), no matter how spicy the waitress claims it is. The wontons (170-240R) are a bit bland on the whole, but the duck version is at least mildly pleasing.

It's the entrees where Mao really shows off its impressive range, quality-wise. The garlic eggplants packed a formidable degree of flavor, even if the vegetables themselves were fairly overcooked in typical Russian fashion. The curry rice (215R) was your standard beige-ist grain dish, bearing no traits particularly identifiable with any Asian culture's culinary tradition. Last and most definitely least, the sweet and sour pork (230R) was just plain wrong, boasting a pinkish, sickeningly sweet jam-like sauce. We asked the manager "What gives, bro?" He pointed to the Asian fellow in the kung fu bandanna standing behind the grill and said, "Look who's preparing the food." Problem is, Mr. Asian only showed up halfway through our meal, and I didn't see him do any of the cooking. Besides, they could have scraped him off the street and installed him as some kind of authenticity figurehead. To be fair, even the elusive manager acknowledges that Mao's dishes are not strictly Asian, and that they've been adapted to suit Russian tastes. A number of usually reliable sources had much better experiences, so perhaps I was just there on a real off night.

Fans of Asian beer might find some consolation in the relatively wide range available (if not in the exorbitant prices)--Sapporo and Kirin (both 235R), Singha Gold and Beijing (210R), even Tiger from Singapore (155R). Furthermore, the interior is probably the classiest Asian thing currently going in town, and a lot less in-your-face pretentious than Kafka. But you can't help but scold the management for failing to take advantage of the Mao name by using "little red books" as menus. Maybe later.

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