One visit. One meal. One shot to get it right
SUN-KISSED DELIGHT | Ignore Crimson Asian Cuisine’s gimmicky name for orange beef and instead enjoy the heat-and-sweet from the savory recipe. (Arnold Wayne Jones/Dallas Voice)
Crimson Asian Cuisine
Although it uses the term “Asian” in its official name, Crimson Asian Cuisine — on the stepchild side of the West Village complex, at the northeast corner of McKinney and Blackburn — takes most of its cues from Vietnamese cooking. It specializes in bahn mi (street sandwiches) and offers pho (a traditional rich soup of sprouts and noodles with beef or pork, usually), always identified with Vietnam. But, like its spiritual brothers — the more fast-foody Pei Wei and the more upscale P.F. Chang’s — Crimson magpies together several national dishes (from Korean barbecue to Thai tea) to create its quilt-like cuisine.
But on this particular day, I was in the mood for Chinese, and — still miffed that Lovers Egg Roll had closed its Lemmon location — figured it was time to give Crimson (which launched a new menu for 2013) a shot.
With warm weather upon us, dining on the patio to people-watch seemed like a natural, though the interior is attractive and earthy if not dazzling. But this was lunch, where speed is at least as important as atmosphere.
An app seemed in order. The cherry blossom wontons ($5) probably derive their name mostly from the glutinous jiggle of sauce that I suspect doubles for the house sweet-and-sour glaze. The wontons themselves are the size of magnolia blooms, four to a serving and browned crisp. What distinguishes these from, say, the similar cheese rangoons is the presence of a bulb of “ground shrimp and pork,” though pork should probably be listed first based on flavor dominance as well as color.
The fried dough is rigid, the wontons large, so popping one into your mouth in a single bite is out of the question. That mandated pulling them apart like an oyster shell, revealing the pearl of protein at the bottom. I folded back the wings of the blossom to dip them in the cherry-colored sauce, which imparts more moisture than flavor. Still, as a fast-casual app, they are serviceable — at least I ate them all. (I was less impressed by the iced tea, made from green tea leaves and with a flavor less conducive to icing than traditional black tea.)
Before my entree arrived, my waitress, who was always smiling and curious about making sure I was enjoying myself, brought out a bowl of yellowish broth with scallions (and nothing else) floating around in it. “It comes with the meal,” she explained. But not even tofu in it?
It mattered not. The soup was refreshingly savory (perhaps accented by fish oil) and primed the pump for my main course.
The sun-kissed beef (really, just orange beef with a gimmicky name; I’m not sure the idea of meat being left out in the sun makes me more confident in its freshness) was fully flavored with orange rind and peppers, grilled crispy without being overdone. There was some complexity here, with a beautiful dome of white rice on the side.
The portion was generous — perhaps too much so, given the wontons. My waitress didn’t even offer dessert; it was clear I’d had a filling meal. My ticket was delivered and returned in record time, for a quick, satisfying and relaxing stop at the trough. Maybe next time I’ll explore deeper into the Orient.
This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition June 21, 2013.