Wokano Wild Side

Duck tongue. Jellyfish. Pig intestine. This is not your typical Chinese restaurant.

by David Snyder

Michael T. Regan CHOOSE WISELY: You can get your Chinese food fix any number of ways at Wokano — there's an "American" menu and an authentic Chinese menu. (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION

Our waiter stopped by to check on us after the first two appetizers had made their way around our seven-person table at Wokano (wah-KAY-no, like "volcano"), the new Chinese restaurant in Wing Phat Plaza at 11th and Washington.

"How's it going, guys?" he asked.

It's an innocent question — the predicate to the customary exchange every diner and server engage in after the food is served. And unless there's a major problem with the meal, someone at the table usually volunteers a quick affirmation just to finish the dance.

But this time, that didn't happen.

Instead, our table became morbidly silent. No one knew how to respond. Our eyes nervously darted around the large 350-seat banquet hall as we pretended to be distracted by our surroundings — the three grand chandeliers reflecting the room's acutely bright light, the college football game playing on two of the four giant flat-screen TVs mounted on distant walls (Oklahoma was leading Nebraska 35 to 0), the curious microphones donned by the dutiful army of partially tuxedoed servers. But it didn't work. The pause we created refused to release its grip on the moment, and the situation grew even more awkward.

Our server caught on quickly and cracked a smile. "Interesting, huh?" he said, gesturing toward our food.

The reason we were silent wasn't because we thought the food was bad. It was because we were struggling to make sense of our first two appetizers — soy duck tongue and fried pig intestines.

"One hundred percent Chinese," he beamed proudly. "I'd have to go back home to China to get this food."

To some, Chinese food means a safe plate of sweet and sour chicken and a cup of thick hot and sour soup. And if that's your ceiling for adventure, fear not — you can certainly find those dishes at Wokano. That is, on the American menu. For those who are willing to step outside of their comfort zone, however, there's a different menu that's worth exploring — one that includes truly authentic Chinese cuisine.

Be warned: If you're not culturally tuned to eating these delicacies, the experience may be somewhat challenging. All we had to guide us were our five senses. And, indeed, without a frame of reference through which to ground some of these plates, even our senses at times lobbied hard for us to cut and run. But if you embrace the moment and approach these dishes with an open mind, it can be a wonderfully rewarding experience.

  Many folks, for example, are accustomed to being served meat that's neatly processed — off the bone or, at a minimum, visually distanced from the animal it came from. Wokano's duck tongue, however, is not served that way. Twenty or more 2-inch blades of muscle — bone-in and lightly sautéed in soy sauce — canvassed a large plate. You couldn't see any taste buds, even if you looked closely. But there was no mistaking it: You were about to eat a miniature tongue, one that looked remarkably like your own.

Yet if you marshalled the courage to hold the base of the tongue and used your teeth to scrape the meat from the bone, you were treated to a unique blend of earthy and intensely gamey flavors that were well-balanced by the accompanying bed of sweetly acidic pickled daikon radish and carrot. Likewise, if you popped a nugget of the sautéed frog into your mouth without realizing that the light breading concealed a collection of small bones, it could be off-putting. But if you nibbled it, instead, like a densely packed chicken wing, you found that its somewhat fishy and gamey flavors were actually quite mild and unintimidating.

More often than not, the hurdle was texture. But if you were able appreciate that your instinctive reactions to these new sensations were cultural and not objective — after all, how can 1.3 billion Chinese people be wrong? — it opened up a whole new world of nuanced flavors. The sea cucumber (a marine animal shaped like a cucumber) had a slightly rubbery texture that gave way easily when I bit through. But because the cucumber had very little taste itself, it was the perfect vehicle for showcasing how well the slight salinity of the dish dovetailed with the earthy shiitake mushrooms. Slippery and translucent spaghetti-like strands of jellyfish finally yielded to my teeth with a deafening crunch, giving way to a distinctively subtle mix of salty and bitter notes.

But the most challenging dish, by far, was the fried pig intestine. Four-inch-long tubes are sliced in half and marinated in a secret sauce, deep-fried and colored to give the crispy skin a bright red hue. The flavors, at first, were deceptively pleasant — a sweet and spicy blend akin to a light barbecue sauce. Even the texture, in comparison to some of the other dishes, was relatively benign. But the unrelenting aftertaste — which can only be described politely as an unholy decay — was so profoundly haunting that the experience will never be far from my thoughts. Whether it was in spite of or because of the finish, though, a number of us still went back for seconds.

As for the safer dishes, a couple of them were disappointing. The hot and sour soup was gloppy and had little heat; the sweet and sour chicken was fairly pedestrian. But by and large, even unadventurous diners will walk away glowing. Crisp, tender dumplings were pregnant with fresh shrimp and vegetables. It will be hard to eat another short rib without comparing it to Wokano's addictive deep-fried version. Perfectly tender ho fun noodles swam elegantly next to generously thick slices of beef. It was worth the deep breath it took to suck the tender snails from their shells after they'd been swimming in a delicately spicy fish sauce.

Surprisingly, the dish for which I held the lowest expectations — the classic General Tso's chicken — turned out to be a shining star. Moist, tender white meat arrived cocooned in pockets of crispy batter. Because the shell was so light, the sauce's bright acidity and gentle kiss-of-sweet-orange finish succeeded in lifting the dish to a higher level.

What makes Wokano such a fun spot isn't just its adventurous fare. It's that it makes room at the table for everyone — even those who play it safe. And when there's a seat at the table for all of your friends, even fried pig intestine can taste pretty damn good.

(david.snyder@citypaper.net)

Wokano  | Wing Phat Plaza, 1100 Washington Ave., 215-271-3388

Hours: Mon.-Thu., 10:30 a.m.-1 a.m.; Fri., 10:30 a.m.-3 a.m.; Sat.-Sun., 10 a.m.-3 a.m.

Dishes, $3-$88

Currently BYOB

Wheelchair accessible