Jason V.
Yelp
The electronic ticker board out front declared that this place has the best Chinese food in Portland. Challenge accepted!
I made an off-hand comment to my wife about wanting to check out the Ambassador when we drove by it in the afternoon, while running errands. Apparently she took it to heart, because we ended up there later that night. With two of the kids in tow, we walked into the door, quickly realizing that this place is more bar than restaurant; in fact, you have to walk through the bar to get to the dining/karaoke area.
Yeah, this place is laid out a little weird. The dining area feels distinctly cafeteria-esque: nothing but booths/benches on the exterior walls, bookended by the kitchen and a karaoke stage, and nothing but empty space in between. Makeshift dance floor, perhaps? Maybe, but drunken dancers flailing about where people are eating seems like a recipe for disaster.
The menu was a little grimy, and the pictures of the entrees looked like they were taken with a 20-year old point-and-shoot digital camera, and printed by a mid-90's HP Deskjet, but they did the job (just barely). With regards to the service, I can't really say that I have positive *or* negative feelings about it. I guess the best way to describe it would be "present".
Obviously, since the kids were with us, we avoided the bar, other that having to pass through it. From my brief observations, I noticed cool blue ambient lighting; a long, well-stocked bar; the usual electronic One-Armed Bandits in a designated gambling area, etc. Dive bar stuff. You get the idea.
But what about the food, you ask? Well, as far as Americanized Chinese food goes, it was pretty great. Maybe not the *best* I've ever had, but a solid contender. I can see the sort of drunken diners that would be making use of the karaoke and dance floor(?) on a weekend night raving about it, so there likely is some validation to their claims on the ticker board outside. I'd eat here again, but probably not specifically seek it out. Now, if I find myself here late on a Saturday night, inebriated and hungry, that's a whole different story. Just keep your flailing elbows out of my Mongolian Beef, please.