Chen’s Village–A surreal and doomed corner of old Seattle

If you are going to eat at Chen’s Village, you should have at least three of the following qualities:
a. You are drunk
b. You are trying to be sick
c. You don’t want to like the Chinese
d. You need to experience primal grief
e. There’s a small demon in your handbag that requires a meal of pure evil
f. Gastrointestinal S&M turns you on
g. You’ve never tasted goo but would like to
h. Chen’s was the alternative to a prison sentence

Bad Chinese restaurants run in my family. My grandmother owned a restaurant in upstate New York called The Coral Sea. Every time we went, my father insisted on going back to the kitchen and cooking our meal. The restaurant was THAT bad.

Chen’s Village reminded me of Coral Sea only without the benefit of the chain smoking Chinese guys hanging out at the round table in the corner and the free meal. There were children running around the restaurant who, possibly, belonged to some people in the bar.

I have to say, I love Chen’s Village for what it represents: salt of the earth bad food.

Chen’s makes rice like they hate China.
The hot and sour soup was made with water and a dehydrated mix–not a touch of broth.
The Moo shu pork pancakes were over-frozen and torn.

I hear that their duck is excellent, but I am confused how that might be possible.

That said, if you go to Chen’s for something else, like booze, the place is a treasure.
Get drunk and make reservations: (206) 281-8838
544 Elliott Ave W
Seattle, WA 98119