Back to Everyone’s Favorite Worst Restaurant
This is how the kitchen boys’ nights out end: We stagger through double doors, sit at the same greasy linoleum table, order in invented Chinese dialects. This is how we punctuate our whisky-soaked nights on the town: curry beef stew noodle with chow fun, cha jung mein with hot oil and hock kian shrimp noodle with Cantonese noodle.
I Think “Nuevo” Means “New”
Pacifico is a pretty punchy place, or that’s what it feels like it’s supposed to be. Its bright orange walls are laced with stripes of blue. Drawings of little fishes swim along these stripes, or perhaps they’re tadpoles, or just a series of swirls in unapologetic reds, yellows and greens. Early afternoon sunlight filters through »