Steam-table adventures

My partner in life has much more healthy eating habits than I do. So, “all-you-can-” is not an option on the “where-do-you-wanna-” eat menu. However, when she goes out of town … I’m on my bike, salivating all the way to the not-so-guilty pleasure of my single-for-the-night fallback: Kwando Buffet.

The blanket description for the food at Kwando is “Asian”—specifically, it’s a mix of Chinese and Japanese—and even though the restaurant offers a pretty Americanized version, the choices are more exotic than at your typical meat-and-potatoes buffet, such as the old Hometown Buffet on Martin Luther King Jr. Parkway that closed a couple of years ago. I was super stoked when another all-you-can-eat Asian spot—Hibachi Grill Buffet—opened in the Hometown space in February, advertising Vietnamese and Korean in addition to Chinese and Japanese selections.

A scouting expedition was in order. But first, for comparison’s sake, I revisited Kwando.

The restaurant overcomes its strip-mall identity with its interior décor: red candles and lanterns, flowers and the trippy yet inviting entryway with its small pond stocked with huge koi and two live turtles!

Kwando is set up in stations with two steam tables filled with a couple dozen (mostly) Chinese dishes, a sushi bar, a dim-sum/soup station, a salad and fruit bar, a dessert bar and a separate bar of raw meats and vegetables for the chef to cook up on a hibachi grill.

Before I get to the food, some caveats: I don’t go to an Asian buffet for American food or desserts; I am a little shy about seafood in a city that’s four hours from the coast; and I don’t go to a buffet to wait for my food to be cooked (so, no hibachi for me).

My first plate at Kwando is filled with the hot Chinese dishes—garlic green beans, one of the meat-and-veggie combos, and of course breaded-and-fried meats in sauce. There were six chicken dishes this recent afternoon—sweet-and-sour, General Tso’s and coconut from the deep-fried side, and Peking, salt-and-pepper and jalapeño from the stir-fry. All were fresh and excellent, especially the fried-and-saucy dishes (they are masters of the frialated arts).

I didn’t have egg rolls or soup this time around (both are great), and I also didn’t brave the sushi (it’s been decent, if unremarkable), but I did try a couple of items from the bamboo baskets at the dim-sum bar: a fluffy but fairly bland pork bun and several servings of my go-to, the luscious little soup dumplings stuffed with ginger-accented pork and bursting with broth. I could live off of them. Overall, a typically satisfying sampling of flavors in a fun environment, all for only $9.45 (dinners are $12.45).

The following week, I tried out Hibachi for dinner ($14.49 per person, self-serve drinks included; $11.49 for a weekday lunch). It has a much bigger dining room than Kwando, with a clean, unadorned look that brings to mind a generic food court. The food is set up similarly to Kwando. Except for the dim-sum, Hibachi had all the same general stations, plus a meat/seafood counter, and a make-your-own pho bar.

Hibachi didn’t have the greatest selection of composed Chinese dishes, but the ones I tried—orange chicken, coconut shrimp—were very good, on par with Kwando yet crispier and not as drowning in sauce. The bite of sushi I stole from my dining mate’s plate was not good (with a gummy, flavorless square of indiscernable protein at the center), but their selections of roasted meat (both the duck and the chicken) were great, fall-off-the-bone tender, with crispy skin and a slight sweetness that mixed perfectly with what tasted like five-spice seasoning. It was the highlight of a pleasant meal.

Though both spots offer an affordable culinary adventure, my preference is Kwando. I would return to Hibachi for the meat, and the pho is intriguing. But Kwando’s greater selection of Chinese dishes, its warm setting, and the dim-sum bar tip things in its favor. For a deeper assessment of sushi, salad, American food and desserts, you’ll have to taste for yourself while I sit here dreaming of savory dumplings.