Chinatown

3720 Leavenworth Street
402-342-3068
Open Mon – Thurs 10:30am – 10pm, Fri & Sat 10:30am – 11pm, Sun 11:30am – 10pm
Delivery with $10 minimum
chinatownomaha.com 

Signage that suggests they've been around since at least 2001,
plus the Marylebone in the background and Mother India in the distance,
making up the culinary corridor of Leavenworth Street.

I used to pass this place on Leavenworth without looking up. I hadn't given it more than one or two subconscious, dismissive thoughts that didn't even come close to making it to the forefront of my mind. I fully assumed, based on location, signage, and the fact that no one I know ever mentions it, that it was simply not for me. The sauces would be syrupy and sugary, nearly undigestible. The meats would have a freezer-burned aftertaste. The vegetables, questionable, and the rice, dry. It might as well have had bullet proof glass dividing the kitchen from the outside world. (I'm not claiming to be some tough bitch or anything, but there are a number of take-out joints in Philly like that.)

Point is, there are a lot of bad Chinese places in town, kids. Watch yourselves.

Little did I know, the grease pool forming while taking this
photo nearly cost me my zebra print tablecloth.

It's true that the first time I ate food from here I woke up twice during the night, too thirsty to even consider a glass, going straight for the faucet while cupping my hands. That's likely more due to the fact that I not only "tried," but pretty much finished two whole entrees. A double dose of sodium will do that.

Let me walk you through that evening.

#C15, Kung Pao Chicken Combo Platter

First, when I ran into an acquaintance on the street, I felt compelled to say I was simply going for a walk, instead of "going to gorge myself at that guaranteed disgusting Chinese place directly behind us." With that major bullet dodged, I entered, placed my order for two at the counter, Facebooked in the corner of the dingy, gray dining room, and quietly collected my brown paper bag after a short eight minutes.

The Kung Pao chicken seemed, as a whole, undercooked, with veggies still too snappy and peanuts somewhat slimy and raw. The lo mein had a sorry vegetable variety, limited to poorly cut carrots, broccoli, and cabbage. I piled it all on one plate and couldn't quite discern the differences in flavor of the two. The egg roll, with tiny bits of minced pork inside, was insanely greasy. I thought about a future devoted to improving temperature control of commercial deep fryers as I ate it, slowly, intense and immediate guilt forming with every bite.

#39, Vegetable Lo Mein 

I vowed to never go back, knowing full well I would because it's convenient, and probably soon.

The second visit, which happened to be on Christmas, provided a feast fit for a holiday absent of city bus service: General Tso's chicken swimming in a luridly sweet, addictive sauce, served with another egg roll I swore I'd throw away and instead munched on once it had chilled off a few hours later. A small order of broccoli in spicy garlic sauce (because it's important to get your veggies) actually had some spice.

These days, instead of dismissing this restaurant whenever I pass, it conjures thoughts of semi-enjoyment, of retiring early for the evening surrounded by an assortment of little white boxes. In this, my fat person fantasy, I never forget to ask for chopsticks.


Chinatown is not good food by any conventional measurements, but if you order carefully, you might just come away satisfied. Suggested strictly for delivery on a crappy weather day, I say get your usual Chinese dish and see how it stacks up against the likes of nearby Rice Bowl and Three's Happiness, two also not very good restaurants. Who knows — you might be pleasantly surprised.

Omelet & Viet Cuisine

16808 Audrey Street (168th and Harrison) 
(402) 657-3269
Open 8am to 7:30pm daily, Sundays 'til 5:30pm, I'd call to confirm before driving way the hell out there
http://vietcuisine.webr.ly
-OR-

Just look at that cute logo, woudja?

All right, I've had it. This is me, throwing my hands up in exasperation, because this is not effing fair. Listen, I'm not a West Omaha hater. I have never once uttered that line about not wanting to go west of 72nd Street. Westies are people, too; who are we to judge? They eat, work, and live just like the rest of us, except their existence takes place inside the hastily planned celebration of sameness we know as the McMansion. Regardless of what your stance is, I think we can all admit it's a great place to raise (sheltered) children. 

Clearly, I have a beef with the concept of urban sprawl, and would implore those in "power" to focus on strengthening our core neighborhoods, preferably in such a way that doesn't reflect wildly misplaced sub-suburban sensibilities (I'm looking at you, Midtown Crossing). 

Egg rolls

When Vietnamese and breakfast collide:
Sausage fried rice, complete with large bits of fried egg, charred corn,
and forgettable specs of peas and green beans,
provide a cheery dish to grease you up any time of day.

The point I'm bemoaning is that some of the absolute best, most adventurous, and most reasonably priced food in Omaha can be found only in the far corners of our city limits, suffocating in an unbecoming strip mall, while meanwhile, famished urban dwellers get to rely on the likes of Jimmy John's when jonesing for something quick, cheap, and fast. 

What I wouldn't give to have Omelet & Viet Cuisine in my backyard. 

Sharing a parking lot with a gas station in the bustling neighborhood of Chalco HIlls, this restaurant used to be called The Omelet Factory, a mostly takeout breakfast place that, up until it changed hands three months ago, garnered some flagrantly mediocre reviews. Do not be confused. While the new guys have mostly preserved the standard egg-centric menu for now -- with routine items like French toast and even a meat lovers omelet dominating its pages -- they've also made a major move in the direction of Vietnamese cuisine.

Beef pho and its typical vegetable accompaniments

The result is a slightly strange and yet delicious new addition to our small collection of go-to places for Vietnamese. Though admittedly I am not a diehard expert on the topic, the pho broth certainly seemed more flavorful and somewhat thicker than most. We didn't leave until every drop had been drank, every noodle slurped. One bite into the banh mi, when the slightly sweet earthiness of the pate -- which had nearly melted into each crevice of the toasted, crusty baguette -- hit my taste buds, I attained a sense of well-being only akin to the serotonin boost of a thousand psychedelics. Wild spurts of A Very Jazzy Christmas from the stereo only heightened the mood. 

BBQ Pork Banh Mi:
If you look closely, you can spot
a crumb of pate resting atop the elongated cucumber slice,
and a chunk of crispy pork in the foreground,
elegantly reposed amongst the julienned carrots.

I'll continue to lament the half-hour travel time and gallons of precious gasoline involved in experiencing such quality in comfort food. I believe this type of place belongs just a stroll down the block from people who are willing to stand in a line that circles that block just to get it. In my dreams I'll frequent this clumsily named ethnic food gem, but in reality I will only get to go twice a year or so. I can only hope Chalco Hillsians know how good they've got it. I think they do.  

The three entrees, appetizer, and three soft drinks came to about $26 pre-tip,
a value that may offset travel costs for many of us.