My predecessors weren’t too keen on Flower Drum Restaurant’s offerings when they last visited six years ago. That said, much of their displeasure stemmed from what I consider a misguided fixation on “authenticity” common in evaluations of Chinese-American cuisine, as though it didn’t evolve from a uniquely American history in a specifically American context. I thought it might be time for a reappraisal. 

Menu-wise, not much has changed — the restaurant still boasts a head-spinning catalog of items that range from the expected (General Tso’s chicken, for $10.99) to the eclectic (Moo Goo Gai Pan, for $8.25).

The dining experience, however, is substantially different for the simple fact that, well, there is no dining experience. While many local restaurants have shed masking and social distancing requirements in an effort to will the (apparently waning) pandemic out of existence, Flower Drum has decided to marinate in March, 2020, a little longer. Money and meals are exchanged through a plexiglass sheet stationed just a few feet beyond the entrance. If you’re looking for safe, speedy takeout, this is the spot. If you prefer the ambience of an indoor dining area, you might want to check back in a few weeks. 

On my first visit, we went with a dinner combo of shrimp lo mein ($11.99) and small bowl of chicken rice soup ($2.49). Both portions were generous. 

The shrimp lo mein, consisting of thick brown egg noodles complemented by a mix of carrots, celery, and scallions, was deeply satisfying. The melange was glazed in brown sauce perfectly balanced between sweet and salty, though unevenly distributed — I uncovered a thick clump of sticky noodles near the bottom of the dish that went down less smoothly than its antecedents. This might be avoided by thoroughly stirring the noodles before eating.

As for the shrimp, it won’t seduce you into thralls of thalassic ecstasy, but it’ll sate your craving for seafood. 

The chicken rice soup wasn’t nearly as satisfying. The imbalanced ratio of solids to liquids resulted in a rather unappetizing sludge of rice soaked in scaldingly hot but only mildly tasty broth that did help flavor the rather bland chicken. The celery and carrots, along with the side of salt crackers, helped break the monotony. 

Lunch specials are available between 11 a.m. and 3 p.m., with a side of egg roll and a choice between steamed and ham fried rice. We had Mongolian beef ($6.50) and chicken chow mein ($6.25). The portions were as generous as dinner’s, for fewer dollars. 

The Mongolian steak strips, cooked to a tender but not crispy finish, were addictive, the savory taste sharpened by the addition of mushrooms and scallions. The sweet-salty brown sauce paired well with steamed rice doused in soy sauce. 

The chicken chow mein was a salmagundi of bamboo shoots; ribbons of white meat; long and spongy white noodles; raw and hard yellow noodles, curled and short; strips of celery; and apple chips, all saturated in sauce. The result was a tempest of competing flavors and textures: crunchy and soft, sweet and sour, dry and sopping. It was by some distance the busiest dish we tried, perhaps too busy — I’m not sure if its disparate components ever harmonized into a coherent whole. The barely controlled chaos did keep the meal engaging: Every bite was a small surprise. 

The egg roll did double duty as appetizer and dessert. It tasted of cinnamon with a somewhat bitter aftertaste, bound together in a pleasing crunch. 

Flower Drum Restaurant is as unpretentious as its homespun exterior. It delivers exactly what it promises: imminently affordable and reliably satisfying Chinese-American takeout. It might not have the most hypnotic beat, but you’ll be glad to march to it anyways.

First Published October 28, 2021, 11:00 a.m.