Haipai at the Andaz: Holy shit take a look at this motherfucker

Seriously, though, I mean it. Take a look at this motherfucker.

Andaz 1

If this thing had fists it would punch you right in the suckhole.

The first time I went to the Andaz was during a Chi Fan for charity event last fall, and I ate the shit out of some salmon tartar, duck leg and white bean compote or some fucking thing and a whole bunch of other delicious stuff. Mad wine. And, get this — our private (!) dining room had an attached lounge complete with couch and a television (?). One of the finest meals I can remember.

Anyway, I went back for some research knowing all-to-well that I was going to eat way too much for lunch and feel terrible for the rest of the afternoon.

Why? Because ham.

Anyway, like I said earlier, take a look at this motherfucker:

Andaz 2

This sandwich is AB (all business). And by business I mean there is way more sandwich than any one person could ever require. The bread is huge and kind of spongy — in a good way, I think? — and there’s so much cheese pouring off the top that it looks like a goddamn broiled-dairy-waterfall, if you can fucking believe I’m saying such a thing. Tons of ham, too, just all kinds of slices of it piled up like a ham-laced homoerotic rugby scrum. Oh and there’s basically a kiddie pool of melted bechamel between the spongy-ass bread, and it pours out like you stabbed a fucking French casserole or something. In a good way.

The egg was overcooked. Not the end of the world, but I wasn’t happy about it or anything. I like to live on the edge, and I’m more afraid of having to attend a corporate Chinese banquet than I am of actually getting H7N9 from an undercooked egg — and a croque should have an over-easy egg flopped right the fuck on top of it. What, 120 or so cases of some weird flu in a country of 1.3 billion and I’m supposed to go all raw spaghetti when someone mentions chicken products? Get out of my face, Jake Gyllenhaal.

Oh, and the seemingly-endless bucket of fries. Goddamn what a goddamn bucket.

Pretty intense, all in all, but in kind of a good way like in that past life when you were born as a duck on a foie gras farm in Southern France and everyday you were like ‘oh I’m so full this is horrible stop feeding me‘ but deep down you were all ‘yea, that’s it, this is fucking delicious and horrifying.’ It’s basically just like that.

It wasn’t all like that, though. Take a look at these little pickled fuckers, super crisp and delicious and probably even low-calorie, though maybe not, I don’t know anything about that kind of thing:

Andaz 3

Thank god for these little pickled fuckers. Otherwise I would probably have gout.

Anyway, it was really good but maybe a little excessive and basically I thought I was going to die for the rest of the day. I award the croque madame at the Andaz Haipai Three Point Five Ham Hocks out of Five Possible Ham Hocks.

Oh, and I’m not sure if it was the ham or last week/weekend’s pollution, but basically it felt like Hercules punched me in the heart/breastplate/lungs/soul for like, four days after I had this particular lunch, and actually I was pretty concerned about it for a while but then eventually it went away, so, yea, I dunno, maybe that’s something you want to consider also, I don’t know what you think is important.

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