Friday Night Rituals

Friday Night Rituals

For most Jewish families in Great Neck, when the sun set on Friday evenings, a candle was lit and Sabbath prayers were spoken. For others, the kids piled into the back of the car and everyone drove to the local Chinese restaurant.

I remember going to the same restaurant every Friday: Szechwan Garden, and being welcomed at the door by Janie, the owner: I wanted to hug her. The room had red and gold paint,hanging paper lanterns, and a pudgy Buddha with a huge grin. After a week of burned and undercooked dinners, coming here was what I anticipated.

We were always seated at the same round table and two bowls of deep fried noodles and duck sauce sat waiting for us. I looked at my family and no one was sulking or frowning. We stopped bickering when we came to this restaurant. It felt like a special occasion.

The waiter gave everyone a menu but it didn’t matter because we always ordered the same dishes: Pu-Pu Platter, Mu Shu Pork, Whole Crispy Fish, Beef with Broccoli, and Szechwan String beans.

First the waiter took our drink order. Mom and Dad ordered Chinese beer. At ten I felt sophisticated ordering a Shirley Temple. It came with a plastic skewer of pineapple pieces and maraschino cherries. I took little sips to make it last. When it was all gone I drank green tea from a tiny teacup.

For us kids, there was nothing as exotic as Pu-Pu Platter. It was a platter of appetizers with a flaming hibachi grill in the middle. The flame added an element of danger. We could burn ourselves or, even worse, set the red and gold room on fire.
On a wooden platter were spare ribs, pork dumplings, egg rolls, crab Rangoon and crispy shrimp toasts. I saved the best for last and the best was shrimp toast.

A shrimp toast was a piece of white bread smeared with minced shrimp and fried. A crispy triangle, it looked dainty, much like a little sandwich at a tea party, but it tasted chewy and delicious. Like everything else, I dipped it in duck sauce.

My brothers and I grilled our already precooked food. My mother and I watched Julia Child religiously and I thought of her as I held the crab Rangoon in the flame of the grill. I was ten years old and already grilling my own food at a Chinese restaurant.

When the waiter carried over a tray with our dinner, my mother exclaimed: ”Look at all this food! It’s too much for us,” while shaking her head.
My parents were always impressed by the size of the portions. For them it was more than a tasty meal, it was a great deal.

For my youngest brother Laurance, the meal was all about Mu Shu Pork. One of his first words was “pork.” (No, we were not Kosher) He liked to spread the hoisin sauce on the pancake and roll it up with the filling. If we had let him, he would have licked the plate clean.

At the end of the meal, when all the platters of food were bare, the waiter brought the bill and a bowl of fortune cookies. I cracked open my cookie to get the fortune before I took even one bite. We went around the table and everyone read their fortunes out loud. Nothing could ruin our mood of contentment. On one night mine read:


"Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it." Confucius



Shrimp Toast


½ lb. cooked shrimp, peeled and chopped
1/3 C. water chestnuts, minced
1 T grated fresh ginger
2 green onions, minced
4t cornstarch
1t salt
2 T oyster sauce
1 egg, beaten
6 slices of day old bread, crusts removed
2 C canola oil

In a bowl, mix the shrimp with ginger, salt, oyster sauce and egg.

Cut each slice of bread into two triangles. Arrange on a baking sheet. Spread shrimp mixture over each triangle. Refrigerate for 15 minutes.

In a frying pan heat oil to 365 F, drop bread into oil, shrimp side down. Fry until golden brown. Flip over for a few seconds. Remove from oil, drain on paper towels.

Serve with a bowl of duck sauce.