Alex K (.
Google
Look, I’m a man who appreciates a bit of mystery—like how tea tastes so much like hot brown water yet remains a national treasure—but walking into Mon Jin Lau felt a bit like trying to find a contact lens in a movie theater during the previews.
It’s dark, folks. We’re talking "casing shadows about" dark. The only thing fighting back the gloom were these tiny table lights that were doing their absolute level best, but they barely gave the menu a fighting chance. Add in a temperature that was on the slight chilly side, and I felt less like I was out for dinner and more like I was a character in a moody spy novel waiting for a handoff.
The Starting Lineup
If there’s one thing coach and I agree on, it’s that a strong start can save a game. And boy, did the appetizers show up to play.
The Shrimp & Scallops: These were the absolute bright spots of the evening. If the rest of the meal had this kind of hustle, we’d be looking at a championship season. Fresh, flavorful, and they actually knew their way around a seasoning rack.
The Main Event
Then came the Mongolian Chicken. Now, it looked the part—dressed up and ready for the gala—but the taste just didn’t have that "believe" spirit. It was, to be honest, a bit unimpressive. It’s like a striker who has all the fancy footwork but can’t quite find the back of the net. It wasn’t bad, mind you; it just didn’t make me want to stand up and cheer.
The Final Whistle
At the end of the day, Mon Jin Lau is like a pre-season friendly in a cold stadium. I’m glad I showed up to see what the fuss was about, and I enjoyed those appetizers enough to give 'em a high-five, but I’m not in a rush to return for a rematch.
It’s a solid "try it once" experience. But for now, I think I’ll head back to where the lights are bright and the chicken has a bit more heart.
Final Verdict: A bit too much shadow, not enough soul.