East End Eats: Déja Vu All Over Again

Jue Lan Club

268 Elm Street

Southampton

631-353-3610

Wednesday through Monday, 

5 p.m.-midnight

This review is dedicated to Freddy the fly, the musca domestica, who died valiantly trying to escape from the glutinous, candied apple syrup of our “hot and numbing crispy beef.” Sorry, Freddy, there was no escape from that quicksand of a sauce.

They call it “vibe dining” and “upscale fare.” They say it “perfectly complements the East End’s residents and vacationers.” They say “our nightlife programming will fill a void in the Hamptons hospitality scene.” They had hoped to avoid being shut down in the wee hours “by landing in a more commercial location six blocks from Main Street.” “They” apparently failed to secure the proper permits for nightlife programming, because that venue was promptly shut down by the neighbors surrounding Jue Lan Club, which also has a nightclub, Elm and Main, an art space, the Barn, and a cigar bar. Cigar bars are still a thing?

Jue Lan Club is the latest restaurant to occupy the space that was Savannah’s for many years, then Delmonico’s, then Circo’s. I have a feeling of déja vu every time I have to go back and review yet another flash in the pan, pop-up restaurant in this location, across from the train station in Southampton.

There is nothing here décor-wise that would tell you this is connected to the Jue Lan Club in New York City, which occupies the former Limelight nightclub. It is still a pretty, white wainscoted space with ceiling fans and simple decoration. There are chopsticks at the place settings and a few black-and-white photographs of John Belushi, Andy Warhol, and Mick Jagger, just to remind you of their connection to the debauched nightlife of the 1970s and ’80s.

The restaurant is labeled as upscale Chinese, but the menu is more Pan-Asian with such offerings as chicken satay, Singapore rice noodles, and curries.

We began our meal with shrimp crystal dumplings, edamame dumplings, crispy rock shrimp tempura, and yellowtail in ghost pepper oil. 

The shrimp dumplings (four to an order) were pretty good, presented in the traditional bamboo steamer basket. They were dense and chewy. There were no individual serving dishes for soy sauce, so we double dipped and dripped. The edamame dumplings came on a plate with an inexplicable pool of sweet water. They were also pretty good, but the filling had a texture of avocado mixed with peanut butter, kind of stick-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth gluey. 

The crispy rock shrimp tempura was completely lacking in crispness, ergo, it had obviously been fried earlier in the day and reheated. It had a spicy mayo sauce. We ate two or three, and really wished it had been crispy. The yellowtail in ghost pepper oil was supposed to be spicy (ghost peppers can get up to 2,200,000 on the Scoville heat unit scale!), but the dish was mild enough for a toddler. The yellowtail was fresh, but it could have used some acid or salt (or ghost pepper oil) to complement its richness.

For entrees we ordered Peking chicken, hot and numbing crispy beef, salted fish and chicken fried rice, and a side order of wok-seared Brussels sprouts with Chinese bacon. I had thought Peking style chicken was a clever idea, but it was a failure. Duck has far more flavor and moisture than chicken, which is what makes Peking duck such a delight. In this case, the chicken was basically unseasoned, fried and sliced meat served with the traditional accompaniments, of hoisin sauce, julienned cucumbers and scallions, and pancakes. So you could taste the condiments, but the chicken, added nothing to the dish. The hot and numbing crispy beef was an epic fail, not to mention Freddy’s final resting place.

Hot and numbing crispy beef is a classic Sichuan dish. The heat comes from chilies, the numbing sensation from Sichuan peppercorns, and the crispiness from the final frying up of little strips of cheap meat. It should be chewy, crunchy, and very savory. This dish was an orange-red gloppy mixture with soft meat slices. Cow candy. There was absolutely no hint of heat or Sichuan peppercorns. It was pure sugary, candy apple syrup. Once the dish started to cool, the serving spoon got stuck on the plate.

The salted fish and chicken fried rice was not fried rice. It was leftover rice with scrambled egg bits, scallions, dabs of saltfish (preserved cod), and chicken. The wok-charred Brussels sprouts had a few sear marks on them, but they were completely raw, and, like the edamame dumplings, inexplicably sitting in about half an inch of sugary water. Simply dreadful.

The service on the night of our visit was very good. Our waiter, Alex, was delighted to see a couple of dames order so much food; this may have been a first for him. 

Prices are expensive. Raw items range from $4 per oyster to $95 for a seafood tower, appetizers and dim sum are $12 to $25, noodles and rice dishes are $14 to $24, mains are $25 to $70, sides are $14 and $15, and desserts are $12.

We were informed that all desserts are made in-house, but they had run out of most of them. There was cheesecake and molten chocolate cake available so we ordered both. The cheesecake order was forgotten, but who needs cheesecake on a hot and humid summer evening in a “Chinese” restaurant, anyway? Who needs molten chocolate cake, either, for that matter? It was a round cake, with no molten interior, with a blob of Reddi-Whip, and a few artful squirts of Hershey’s chocolate syrup.

There are a lot of restaurants that open for one season, make claims about their cuisine, and transform into nightclubs and discos after hours. Union Cantina, which opened nearby in Southampton, is such a place, as is Jue Lan Club. I recently ate at Union Cantina, which claims to serve “farm-to-table” Mexican fare, and it, too, was dreadful. And what, pray tell, is farm-to-table about avocados, shrimp, and pre-shredded Monterey Jack cheese? Nada. Vibe dining, my heinie.