In the Footsteps of History

When Halfz and I saw the facade of Yenching Palace, we had no idea of exactly what we might find inside. We had already been around the block once, as Halfz unsuccessfully sought out a suitably secluded spot in which to relieve himself. He rejected each of the half dozen chain restaurants we passed, so when we found ourselves in front of Yenching for the second time, it seemed clear that we were being given a sign from on high.

The interior of the Palace is, indeed, palatial. The space is bisected by a sturdy masonry wall cut with shallow arches, and could comfortably seat perhaps 250 people. The surfaces are covered by a dizzying array of materials -- mirrors etched to resemble marble, crumbling vintage wallpaper, and enough faded red vinyl to outfit a small army in stiff, syrupy capes. Museum-style display cases house various artifacts of untold value, and at the center of the room in which we were seated is a large sculpture of an ornate boat, made of what we guessed was either beeswax or the tusk of an enormous elephant.

The atmosphere created by this decor was nearly overwhelming -- we had to resist the urge to cut and run, thinking we had trespassed into some part of the notorious Cleveland Park underworld, in which outsiders are unwelcome and killed for sport. It was only upon seeing the menu that the explanation for the bizarre room began to come into focus. Stamped in gold on the inside cover was the following:

"Throughout the years, the Yenching Palace often has shared a page of history with the United States. During the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962, the Yenching Palace was one of the meeting sites of the personal intermediary of President John F. Kennedy and the Emissary of the Soviet Premier, Nikita Khrushchev. It was at the last of these meetings held at the Yenching Palace that final terms were agreed upon which ended the crisis and avoided war.

"The ABC television hour-long documentary, "The Cuban Crisis," was filmed and narrated by the distinguished reporter, John Scali (U.S. Ambassador to the U.N. in 1974), at the Yenching Palace. Then, in 1971, when President Nixon initiated rapprochement discussions between the United States and the People's Republic of China, the Yenching Palace had the honor to be chosen the site for diplomatic and social exchanges between Secretary of State, Dr. Henry Kissinger, and high-ranking representatives of the Chinese delegation to Washington, D.C., in their efforts to normalize relationships between the two countries."

So there it was; we were following in the footsteps of history, and I had no doubt that not a single thing about the restaurant had changed since 1971. What had seemed a vaguely creepy rendezvous point for middle aged gay men was actually a veritable salon of late 60s charm, untouched by the likes of Philippe Starck chairs, laser-etched plexiglass, or modern lighting. It was as though one might turn around to find Jack Kennedy himself seated in a corner booth with Marilyn. Halfz ordered a Dewar's and soda, and the choice was so appropriate I had to make mine the same.

A friend ended up joining us as our appetizers were arriving, so the three of us squeezed into a booth intended for two. Our hosts graciously offered to move us to an adjacent semicircular booth of the sort one associates with floor shows in Las Vegas, but we decided we were comfortable enough. To move would have deprived us of our close-range view of the peeling wallpaper, which I at least was not ready to part with.

The food was nothing terribly special, though it came promptly and certainly met our expectations. The pork dumplings were better than average, and served on a bed of lettuce that was not at all tired or droopy. While it's true that some 35 years have passed since the crack staff last served dignitaries during tense negotiations, they've clearly been keeping themselves razor sharp on the offchance that Li Zhaoxing will walk in one day and request "Stir-Fried Two Kinds" and a stiff Manhattan.

I often wish that for just one day I could be transported back to New York circa 1965, to take in some of the forgotten minutiae I have glimpsed in movies of that era. Yenching Palace is without a doubt the closest I have ever come to time travel. Even the bathroom seemed like a place where one might find a pistol taped inside the toilet tank; indeed, all three of its urinals were out of commission, and it is not implausible that this has been the case for three decades.

FOOD: 79
SERVICE: 84
ATMOSPHERE: 89