Restaurant Review - No-Holds-Barbecued

The display case shines like a beacon in the night, beckoning to shoppers from across the parking lot. A throng of teenage girls clusters around the window. They chatter excitedly, pointing at items in the case, nudging and giggling, then trail into the shop. The young ladies line up patiently at the counter and pay for their carefully wrapped boxes. Reassembling outside, they pull out the purchases to compare.

You’d think this sort of excitement among adolescent girls was reserved solely for new boy-band albums, clothes or jewelry. Yet these young ladies are in a froth over the glistening, lacquered ducks dangling in Ming’s front window.

I think we’re alone now: Ming’s Bar B. Q.’s utilitarian gray tile and white-walled interior might not qualify as date night material, but on both visits, almost all the tables were occupied by teenage Asian couples shyly smiling over steaming mounds of rice and heaping plates of barbecued meat. Harsh fluorescent lighting does not a romantic mood make, and the standard-issue restaurant supply chairs and tables don’t create a special ambiance. But then again, bringing a date to Ming’s makes perfect sense. You don’t have to dig deep in your pockets to come out looking like a rose having paid for everything.

Brother, can you spare a rib?: Among its wildly popular selection of barbecued meats, Ming’s ribs are the first to go. We missed out on them twice. We were more than contented, however, with a selection of sweet and salty honey-roasted pork, Hong Kong-style roast duc, and crackling-covered roast pork ($9.50 for three meats). Decadently rich with honey and soy and dripping with juice, the tawny-skinned duck was capped with the thinnest layer of melting fat. Squares of thick, audibly crunchy skin made the roast pork’s stew-soft meat all the more delicious by contrast.

In addition to the usual meats, Ming’s offers a gorgeous barbecued cuttlefish ($6.50 for a plate). Delicate, wonderfully toothsome and sensually smoky, the cuttlefish was sliced thinly and served in a sauce of pan drippings with a touch of sesame oil. Peking duck ($12.50 for a half) sported an ebony skin that crunched like bacon. Served with a flourish in two courses, the magnificent meat and skin were served with fluffy little pancakes and a lashing of plum sauce.

In sickness and in health: It’s hard to say no to a menu item as alluringly named as Ming’s “Lovely Couple” ($6.95). The dish consists mainly of thick, comforting chicken gravy. Intermittent chunks of celery and chicken mingle with tiny shrimp and peas. Think chicken potpie filling, Chinese-style. Wonton noodle soup ($3.25) is just the ticket for a flu-suffering friend, with fat wontons bobbing amid a tangle of satisfyingly chewy egg noodles in a dark chicken broth.

At a place called Ming’s Bar B. Q., you’d expect nothing less than outstanding roasted meats, which is exactly what the restaurant delivers. Yet it’s the duck — roast and Peking — that are outstanding. Swarms of canoodling teenagers can’t be wrong, after all.