Kang Kang Food Court - Alhambra

We walk in only 30 minutes before closing. The industrial kitchen is still steamy from a long day's work, but the atmosphere is icy as the woman behind the counter speaks bluntly to me in Mandarin, entirely ignoring my friend who is Vietnamese. "You can only order to go,” she says immediately, “We close in half an hour."

But we can order anything, she adds, even the Sheng Jian Bao which are a pain to make, take forever to cook, and must be made to order. Mine are still steaming and crunching when I get them home more than half an hour later. 

I also ordered regular XLB, which are absolutely alright but not the valley's best. 

The Sticky Rice Shumai are also just alright. The rice is moderately savory but you have to really like sticky rice shumai and even then these are middle of the pack. 

I always say that the food is good if the service is bad, but this isn't entirely fair here. Her manner is curt and she doesn’t waste words, but her actions speak louder than words. When my friend orders four pork-filled buns (through me), she slips an extra into the box. “Let’s give you one," she murmurs…to me. 

Then she holds out a styrofoam tray of mochi rolls with red bean filling. "Do you want one? $5 and we just made them. Still warm and haven't even gone into the fridge". I hesitate for a moment, and she repeats, more insistently, "They're fresh and they’re still soft". And I can see the plush mochi wrapper stuffed with flakes of coconut with the creamy-smooth red bean spilling out. Yes, one for each of us. They might be the tastiest thing I ever ate.  

I tell her we will pay and she says "But you want the Beef Noodle Soup too?" I said no thanks, I'd ordered a lot. 

"Are you sure?" She repeats. She tells me it’s one of their best dishes and I can’t manage to refuse. And holy moly, what a bowl of flavor. Fatty chunks of liquid meat are steeped in a thick brown broth with enough msg to put you into a coma. It reheats well for days, and I ate it with zero regrets. 

Come to Kang Kang for Chinese comfort, cash-only classics. They do a fantastic job replicating grandma’s neighborhood restaurant, and the service is consistent with the vibe. Be prepared to order with numbers and gestures if you don’t speak Chinese, but it’s a momentary discomfort in exchange for sheng jian bao and one heck of a soup.