Key:
+ shameful
++ mediocre
+++ delightful
++++ amazing

Kip’s Café ++

3925 Fifth Ave., San Diego, CA 92103
619-298-0127

Hours: 11 a.m. to 10 p.m., Monday through Thursday; until 11 p.m., Fridays and Saturdays.

Cuisine: Chinese and Japanese

Budget impact: Low to moderate

If you don’t mind monosodium glutamate (MSG) in many of the dishes, the legendary Kip’s Café sends you to a bygone era when going out for Chinese food meant plunging your chopsticks into egg foo yung and chop suey, and yes, with little dishes of ketchup parked alongside.

Since relocating to Hillcrest from El Cajon earlier this year, the restaurant has introduced to the gayborhood an array of Hong Kong specialties cooked similarly to when Kip’s began amusing East County patrons with fortune cookies in 1956.

The move to Hillcrest occurred, when in November of 2008, the landlord doubled the rent, prompting owner Wing Tam to call it quits. The announcement stunned three generations of diehard customers who soon began rallying for Kip’s to reopen. In a surprise twist a year later, Tam and his wife discovered an affordable space on Fifth Avenue, and their retirement became a thing of the past.

The new Kip’s is far less dowdy than its original digs. Patrons are greeted by a shiny, elongated entranceway lined with tables and tasteful décor. Artsy pendant lights retained from the former location dangle above booths in the back of the restaurant. Serving plates have been modernly upgraded and Japanese dishes such as savory ginger pork and bento platters now comprise a section of the menu. Though compared to my initial visit in March, service has taken a nosedive.

In two recent lunches the wait staff appeared disengaged and took extended periods of time before taking our drink and appetizer orders. One young waiter in particular became brusque when we politely requested no MSG in an entrée of aromatic Thai fried rice. And when discovering soon afterwards that we were shortchanged on silverware, I had to fetch it myself amid his mysterious absence.

If you choose to dodge the MSG, say it upfront. But don’t expect that the flavor-enhancing chemical will be removed from meals involving pre-battered proteins, such as the restaurant’s famous orange chicken. The dish is served generously in a boat-shaped bowl, with the poultry appearing like large craggy rocks glistening in sweet orange glaze. The end result is satisfying if you don’t mind a sneaking essence of donuts bobbing to the forefront.

Kip’s fried rice is killer. In the restaurant’s El Cajon glory days, the owner claims to have sold 150 pounds of it a day. And for good reason. The grains are simmered gently in soy sauce for about two hours before entering the wok with fresh eggs, stripping them of their starchy coats. High flames encircling the wok breathe delightful measures of smokiness into each batch. By all means, skip the white rice.

Dishes denoted as “hot” really aren’t so spicy. In each visit I’ve reached for the chili sauce, which proves merely a superficial solution for hiking the heat barometer compared to when chili peppers are built into recipes from the get go. In the cases of hot and sour soup, garlic-chili shrimp and kung pao chicken, their spice levels offered zero adventure into China’s Szechwan province.

The menu rambles through a litany of Chinese dishes well known to Americans, in addition to several Japanese presentations adorned with decent salads and marinated cucumbers, served on bento platters.

Should you luck out with an efficient server, the experience is deliciously kicky. Though when greeted by a long face and then left for dead, the culinary lures of yesteryear hold little appeal.

Frank Sabatini Jr. is the author of Secret San Diego (ECW Press), which was published in 2003 and distributed to major book stores and web sites throughoutthe U.S. and Canada. He has written extensively on food and restaurants for Living in Style Magazine; Pacific Magazine; The Gay & Lesbian Times and The San Diego Union-Tribune, where he worked previously on its city desk and also wrote feature stories for the paper's Food Section. Having covered the local food beat for the past 18 years, he has gleefully overcome his phobias for beets and sweetbreads. Someday goat cheese will join that list.