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| - A (now-former) girlfriend first brought me to this place, giggling about the inevitable wordplay as she told stories about late night pork fried rice runs.
It's just the sort of place that a foodie should love:
Signage that may predate the English language.
Satisfying patina of grime on worn furniture.
Horrid wallpaper.
Rustically snarly staff.
Glorious racks of red lacquered meat hanging from the window in defiance of health codes the world over.
Handwritten bristol boards advertising specials that you can't order because you don't speak Chinese and "white people don't like this" (I think that Yelp would do its members a great service if someone started a menu translation thread).
And for those reasons, I award three stars.
Truthfully, I'd knock one or off for the food itself, for Kom Jug Yuen is a victim of the times, Cantonese food in a szechuan town, all prepared better, fresher, and much more artfully down the street and up in the wilds of Markham.
Hot and sour soup is rich, but sweet.
Fried mushrooms are tasty, but greasy and sweet.
Lo mein balances soft noodles and crispy veg, but it too is undermined by gloopy clear sauce.
Barbecue pork varies in texture between pencil eraser and pure fat or gristle. A few bites may indeed qualify for 'best in the city' status', but it's a lot to osrt through, especially when accompanied by pasty rice and a few tendrils of chinese greens.
Truthfully, I visit Kom Jug Yuen not to guzzle the food, but to enjoy the atmosphere, such as it is.
My, how far we've come.
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