How About Them Knockers: Uncle Wok?
8440 Abrams Road
Promised time: 45 minutes
Actual time: 40.5 minutes
Ability to make my mouth water during ordering process: 20
Food arriving smokin' hot: 40
Nutritional Value: -95
Knowing that with a name like Uncle Wok, you have to open a restaurant: 100
Uncle Wok is my favorite uncle. He lives in a nice part of town, and he makes (and sometimes even delivers) Chinese food for me whenever I call him. What? Some people personify their cars and plants, I happen to personify my favorite restaurants. If you call that crazy, I call you absofuckinglutely right so you'd better not make fun of me. Because I'm looney tunes. I might come over and play guitar horribly at you, Lee DeWyze style. Yeah. Fear it.
But seriously, Uncle Wok's is great.
Exhibit A: The Case of the Missing Pu Pu
One time, I walked into Uncle Wok and asked if my pick-up order was ready. They were like, "Alice who? You didn't order from us." And I was all, "Yeah, I did. This is Skillman Wok, right? I'm at the wrong frikkin' wok." (Ridiculously fungry stomach repeatedly punches me in the uterus.) My mind starts racing because it's all low-blood sugared and my already out of whack dinner timeline has just been MacGrubered. And I'm suddenly imagining everybody around me as giant food items (Hell yeah, Giant Turkey Leg was there), just like in the movies. Because, that shit is real. They go, "What did you order from Skillman Wok? We'll make it."
Uncle Wok FTW. Pick up, delivery. I'm brand loyal forever and ever.
Exhibit B: Last Sunday Night
If you get delivery often, you quickly realize that lots of places don't deliver late on Sunday nights. I don't know why. Probably some kind of "Screw you, it's the end of weekend and I own this place and I'm not being open" thing. Point is, not many places are still delivering when I get hungry. But, praise General Tso, my Uncle Wok always is.
On this particular Sunday, I ordered the chicken lo mein, Mongolian beef, sweet and sour chicken and some crab rangoons (not pictured because they were inhaled). Talking to Uncle Wok was great. He's all business on the phone -- no time wasted asking me how I'm doing today or if I'm interested in trying their new Some Shitty Shit I Don't Want-- none of that. Just gets to the order, gets the card, tells me it'll be 45 minutes and hangs up on me. Good talk.
40 minutes later, Uncle Wok rings the doorbell and I get my food on.
I didn't take a picture of the crab rangoons because I was so hungry I had to shove them down my gullet without chewing. You should know, though, that these crab rangoons are full-on crabby. Create pastry pocket. Fill exclusively with what I presume was imitation crab. Fry. So, if you're looking for that cream-cheesy crab rangoon action, you're not getting it here so order some egg rolls instead. And another thing: They didn't come with any kind of sauce. I usually douse them in hot mustard, but I guess Uncle Wok was low that day and didn't put any in my bag.
As I must have sauce for my rangoons, I decided it was time to get creative. When you order sweet and sour chicken from Uncle Wok, he delivers the fried chicken pieces with veggies and pineapples in a separate container from the sauce. Why? Because he's a mad smart deliverer and knows that if he pre-sauces the chicken, it'll be all gross and chewy by the time it gets to your house. I dipped my rangoons in this sweet and sour sauce and it was awesome. Yay for brains.
The lo mein was good. Nothing mind-blowing, but I never expect it to be. I order lo mein as my not-rice dish. Its main purpose is to create a solid barrier between fried meats and to soak up whatever sauce might be remaining on my plate after I down about 80 pieces of sweet and sour chicken (Which, by the way is fantastic. It crunches and has all the best parts of the fried chicken strips from 1980s Chili's, minus flair) and about a hundred more bites of the always tasty Mongolian beef (Big ups to the two pieces of broccoli in there that say, "You're eating healthy tonight! Fives!!").