Congee
Chinese Fare

If asked what my last meal would be in this lifetime, I'd have to say it would be, hands-down, at Congee in NYC. Not to be mistaken with Congee Village, this singly-named restaurant is synonymous with really good, salivation-inducing, lips-licking home-cooked dishes. Forget about the service, forget about the stained-glass decor lining its walls, the food is a stand-alone in the quality of flavors that produced a taste explosion to my palate. I salivate now thinking about the lunch I enjoyed here just a few weeks before.

Ever since New Shanghai in Kearny Mesa was replaced with Tajima, I have been in a desperate search for a Chinese restaurant that serves fresh fried bread. So when my order of fried bread came out of Congee's kitchen and was placed before me, I found myself physically and literally clapping, can you believe it?! Wow, the crispy outer shell encased an aromatic dough center that, when dipped into the small bowl of condensed milk syrup, was so delicious.

I gulfed down the sauteed vegetables: each fresh stem produced a crunch when bitten into, providing the perfect texture to its soft, sweet, garlic-enhanced leaves.

Dare I say it, the congee here is better than my mom's. Congee's porridge is infused with impactful flavors, is perfectly seasoned, and the texture of the rice in the very thick broth was absolute perfection. And the abalone and chicken? Tender and melted against the roof of my mouth. The food was so delicious that I can't stop thinking about it. It's absolutely maddening we don't have anything like this in San Diego.