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Photo by Ash Daniel
Eggplant fries with spicy chiles
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Photo by Ash Daniel
Double-cooked pork
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Photo by Ash Daniel
Seafood delight over sizzling rice cracker
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Photo by Ash Daniel
Cheng Du interior
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Photo by Ash Daniel
Dan dan noodles
I have to start here: seafood delight over scorched rice cracker. That’s the one that did it. I already loved most everything that Henrico’s Cheng Du Restaurant had to offer, but when that Olympic champion of a dish hit the table, my admiration was pushed over the edge (along with my stomach capacity). Cheng Du specializes in all things authentically Sichuan — think garlic, chili, spicy, extra spicy — as well as an array of fresher-than-average preparations of familiar favorites. West Enders, you’re so lucky. You’re now home to the two paramount Chinese restaurants in Richmond.
Speaking of Peter Chang’s China Café, it’s hard not to compare the two. They both serve Sichuan cuisine, they have similar menus and they’re both sizeable restaurants installed in strip malls on Broad Street. Is there a reason why Peter Chang has cooked for the James Beard House and received media attention from national outlets, while Cheng Du is all but unknown? I can tell you this: The reason is not how the food tastes. Each dish I sampled matched and sometimes surpassed my most beloved of Peter Chang’s selections, from the cumin lamb or the clay-pot duck to the eggplant fries — in fact, I might prefer Cheng Du’s because they’re sliced a bit thinner to maximize that crunchy shell/soft center dichotomy.
Yes, you can get your Americanized Chinese dishes if you absolutely must, and they will be delicious. I tried the General Tso’s tofu, and it was admittedly fantastic: cubes, perfectly crisped with creamy centers in fluid, not-too-sticky-sweet sauce. I’d recommend branching out, though, because there are treasures on the menu for even the most spice-squeamish eater. Do you like chicken and broccoli? Try the steamed chicken with scallion sauce, which is a pile of mild, garlicky chicken morsels studded with gems of scallion and green pepper. Do you usually order something in brown sauce? Give the double-cooked pork a shot. It’s sliced pork belly, boiled and then fried to give the slivers a crunchy crust, and coated with an amped-up, gingery sauce.
For those interested in crowd-pleasers that aren’t available at every other Chinese restaurant, I would like to impart an important secret I learned during a lunch visit: You’ll see two scallion pancakes on the menu: a plain option and the “bubble.” Who wouldn’t want a puffed-up pancake that looks like a giant bubble, right? You, that’s who! The bubble pancake is really just a fried shell — it lacks flavor on its own, and I think it’s really just touted for its theatrical presentation. Taste-wise, you want the scallion pancake, which is a densely layered disc of chewy, onion-laden dough, fried and sliced into wedges. It’s not as fun, but it’s far more satisfying.
For ambitious palates, Cheng Du is your oyster. Pig kidney? Chitterling fries? Bullfrog legs? It’s got these and far more. The menu is chock-full of dishes for the adventurous and the curious.
Which brings me back to the seafood delight with scorched rice cracker. A boat-sized plate arrived adorned with what looked like six savory Rice Krispies Treats, followed by another boat-sized plate from which the server ladled mounds of glistening, garlic-scented seafood. The rice crackers crackled as the sauce soaked into them, eliciting oohs and ahhs from the table, and massive, cloud-white shrimp, clams in the shell, spirals of squid and chunks of tender fish rested on top. It’s been a while since I’ve had such expertly prepared seafood, and each bite was thrilling: The sauce transformed the rice cracker into a delicious congee, but the untouched edges were still crackly, adding texture to what would have otherwise been a one-note-consistency dish.
The tiny dings in Cheng Du’s armor are service-related, and they truly are tiny. It can take a bit for the servers to get back to you with water or the check; this was actually only the case at lunch, though it happened on two separate occasions despite the restaurant being somewhat empty. Service issues could in no way hamper my desire to go back, though; I would wait hours for those eggplant fries, or that ambrosial seafood. Luckily, I don’t have to, and neither do you. Whether you’re a white sauce devotee or a card-carrying spice freak, they’ve got you covered.
3.5 out of 4 forks
Cheng Du Restaurant
9503-C W. Broad St.
747-5282
Hours: 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. daily
Prices: $2 to $26
Handicapped Accessible
