Noodle Histrionics - Mr. Chow, 324 E. 57th St. b/tw 1st & 2nd

Noodle histrionics, cougars and silverbacks galore, and a waiter who offered "MSG" as the Chinese spice that must've numbed my friend's tongue during his last dinner in Beijing, do not bode well for an extraordinary dining experience. Mr. Chow, while glamorous to the eye, is a little 2000-late and underwhelming overall. I felt lost in a New York past life, flush with cash and self-importance, and the live noodle maker and obsequious, uninformed wait-staff didn't make up for relatively bland, uninteresting and very expensive Chinese food ($35+ per entree). I had good company and good conversation, which made it all ok, and if I had to pick one thing to praise, the Peking duck, while dry and served with what could have been a Mexican flour tortilla, was five-spice-seasoned perfectly and satisifying with cucumber slices and plum sauce. I have a memory of visiting Mr. Chow in Tribeca three to four years ago and being kicked out of their bar: "the bar is only for diners". Preposterous and enough to make me not want to go back until required to for a business dinner this evening. Finally, tonight, I was a "diner" and now I'm not sure that I'm going back, ever.