The place was pleasantly half-full - not empty enough so as
to be ghostly, not full enough to prevent our getting a big
table for the four of us. There's a special menu for 4,
featuring a 1.5-lb lobster and four dishes from the menu
plus soup, $78++. I mentioned this (the list of dishes on
offer were mostly things I like a lot), but Ted pulled a
wry face. I said, $78 for a lobster and four dishes isn't
too much, but it turns out that was not his objection.
He's allergic to many seafoods! One might say that he's
semilergic, but as we weren't going to split hairs on this
one, we ended up with a fairly seafood-free meal at a
seafood restaurant.

Four dishes plus soup and rice was just about perfect.

Started with a rendition of hot-sour soup that for once was
more hot than sour, and which I liked. There was a bit of a
stir when it was found that somehow some unadvertised shrimp
had made their way into this soup. I was eagerly awaiting
Ted to blow up balloonwise, so I could come to the rescue
with the Benadryl I keep in my pocket most times, but he
didn't. Some joking about Epi-Pens and stuff like that, and
I brought up the fact that shiitakes and cloud ears make me
bleed, and hot-sour soup has both. People expressed concern
- a somewhat kinder reaction than mine to Ted's issues. Let
us leave this for the time being and go on to the meal.

As Ted is a strict carnivore, we had two meat main dishes,
both coming on sizzling platters. I pointed out to no avail
that the sizzly comes at a cost of two or three extra bucks,
but I guess sizzling was the order of the day. The proper
greedy restaurateur procedure is to bring a bowl of food and
a red-hot platter, then combine the two in as theatrical
wise as possible, yielding a godawful racket and grease
spattering all over happy round-eyed diners. At Legend, the
plattering is done in the kitchen, with the result that we
were presented with two happily bubbling doses of chicken
with black bean sauce and "tenderloin" with pepper, hoisin,
and oyster sauce. Can't say I didn't warn you guys.

Both dishes were perfectly enjoyable, though, the chicken
nice and black beany but a tad salty, the "tenderloin" -
really I'm sure flank or skirt, marinated in rice wine and
baking soda, then coated in cornstarch - quite tender though
not exceptionally beefy. I kept waiting for Ted to puff up
like a fugu, because of the oyster sauce, but he didn't.
Anyhow, there's not all that much oyster in oyster sauce (in
contradistinction to lobster sauce, which actually has no
lobster in it at all).

Amy had suggested noodles, and I nodded approvingly: the
Chinese wisdom is that eating noodles will help you in
attaining a long, skinny life. Ours were crisp-fried thin
yellow noodles with pork and bean sprouts, pretty good.
Make that long, skinny, suntanned life.

Noting the singular lack of green stuff, I exercised my
prerogative as the oldest at table and ordered the ong choy
with fu ru and hot pepper. What came (this happens when one
orders a relatively unpopular dish) was a mountain, maybe a
pound and half, of goose vegetable/hollow greens/water
convolvulus - one of the most prized of all Southeast Asian
veggies, but somehow one that hasn't caught on so well here.
A bit much fu ru, a bit little hot pepper, lots of stray
unadvertised bits of garlic and shreds of ginger. I enjoyed
this and ate the bulk of the dish, with modest portions to
ripper and Amy, who nodded politely and finished their small
allotments. Ted balked for a while but then acceded to taste
a tiny bite, which he allowed was not so bad as he feared.

Tea was weak but decent; the guys each also had beer, each
according to his nature. Tab was $68++, counting beer, so we
saved 10-15 bucks by not getting a lobster.

As we finished our meal, I felt a nosebleed coming on, and I
strode proudly, head up, chin out, making no eye contact, to
the restroom, where the red sea opened up. After I cleaned
myself up, I presented me to the table with only a faintest
trace of gore on my maw.

Time to say goodbye; Ted gave me a lift to the hotel, which
meant 5 minutes instead of 25, for which I was thankful.

Back in solitude, I came to the ugly realization that I'd
sat in part of this smelly old guy's detritus. Took a long
careful shower, and, as I said before, the trousers went in
the bin.