Wok on the Wild Side

Happy Family lets vegetarians experience real Chinese food.
by Hot Knives

Fermented oyster juice, shark fin soup, jellyfish: Chinese food can be a jungle. That is, until Panda Express decided the cuisine needed a dash of pineapple and MSG, some bright white lighting and plastic forks; Americans napalmed the shit out of the Chinese culinary jungle and followed General Tso to safety.

Fortunately, there are still plenty of dumpy dives untouched by American sensibilities in Los Angeles—authentic dim sum joints and no-name strip mall buffets where the regulars are exclusively Chinese. Unfortunately, for vegetarians (even those with cast iron stomachs and gutsy palates), there’s not much in the way of this authentic, out-there fare that doesn’t involve meat—in everything. There’s also not much satisfying danger in ordering ‘Buddha’s Delight.’ Which is exactly where Happy Family comes in.

This vegetarian meat mecca is hardly new—they’ve been sizzling fake beef for decades—but after moving into a large dining room atop a Chinese mall four months ago, the family just keeps growing. And considering the breadth of their lengthy menu, it’s a very happy family indeed.

Put it this way: Happy Family may be the only veggie restaurant in the United States that will serve you kidneys.

On a recent dinner visit, we found ourselves struggling to pick from the 200-some awesome dishes and taking turns visiting the dingy, bleach-smelling restroom just to sneak a peak at the impressive, bustling kitchen.

The dining room at Happy Family is sparse and straight out of the ’70s. The color scheme might best be described as Easter Hallmark card, with white walls, bland green carpet and clunky, plastic plates. The long dining area spans two rooms, sprinkled with chintzy chandeliers and large windows on one side offering a view of the Monterey Park hills. But we didn’t come for the view.

Our opening appetizer was a mixed bag. Opting for the Three Item Cold Plate ($9.95), we were quickly delivered a heaping dish of crispy “duck” made from bean curd skin, faux fish and a jellyfish salad. The duck, while pretty tasty, was lackluster as far as imitation goes. The curd was chilled and not as crispy as you would imagine duck skin to be (which, to be honest, was OK with us). The dried fish, on the other hand, tasted like the most amazing Mongolian smoked meat we’d never had. Served in long strips, the “fish” was a dark, purplish brown and very stiff, but extremely tender and chewy on the inside. The jellyfish—plopped on a leaf of lettuce, with thin slices of cabbage—almost looked like papaya salad. But the fake jellyfish was tasteless and nearly impossible to discern from tangy rubber bands. (As we understand it, however, this is more or less what real jellyfish tastes like.)

While we waited for our entrées, a kind but curt waitress brought a huge bowl of hot and sour soup (small $5.50, large $8.95), which she served up for us into little bowls. Upon first smell we were floored—the scent of white pepper rose like steam. The goopy, perfectly thickened soup was chockfull of lily buds, bean sprouts, succulent tofu and mushrooms. It could have been spicier for us, but the mild sweetness was much preferred to over-the-top, sickly sweet. Each bite was more and more soothing.

Before we could finish, another waitress delivered a bowl of brown rice and our three entrées: kung pao chicken ($6.50), deep fried tofu with special fungus ($7.50) and sizzling squid with shrimp, pork, tofu and broccoli ($9.50). This is where shit got serious.

If you’ve never had “special fungus” you don’t know what you’re missing. It’s a common ingredient in authentic Chinese cooking and goes by a number of names, none of which we could pronounce. Upon asking, our gracious server even brought over a cookbook and pointed to a long Latin genus. It is a mushroom like no other, with a very faint taste itself, but the ability to soak up tastes like a mushy flavor sponge. It came on top of perfectly crisped tofu that tasted like it had been rolled in sugar and caramelized in the wok. Next up was the sizzling squid plate—the “scary dish” we had picked—with five fake meats (two of which were actually unidentified in the title of the dish). It was nothing short of impeccable. The meat and veggies were smothered in a light, slightly sweet brown sauce that was still sizzling when it arrived. Huge, bright floral pieces of tender broccoli made the dish. The fake shrimp crunched and squished exactly like the real thing and the fake pork was surprisingly tasty. The kung pao chicken was the most recognizable, with its bite-sized bits of water chestnut, blackened chilis and garlicky peanuts. The wheat gluten “chicken,” it turned out, was only one of three they serve (along with the in-house mushroom chicken and a soy protein variety imported from Taiwan). The nearly bouncy texture of the wheat gluten chicken was realistic without being too gross and the spicy tinge of the blackened peppers was expert.

When we leaned back from our plates, we felt a little bit like we had overdosed on soy, but compared to what our adventurous carnivore counterpart might have felt like after gobbling eight meats, we decided we’d walk on the wild side, vegan style, with Happy Family any day. LAA

Location: 111 N. Atlantic Blvd., Monterey Park.
Phone: (626) 282-8986.
Vibe: 99-cent store paradise.
Price: Appetizers $5-15; main dishes $7-15; desserts $3-7.
Recommended dishes: Faux fish plate, Sizzling Squid with pork, tofu and broccoli, anything with “special fungus.”
Overall: 4 out of 5