Working as a news reporter in Michigan, I had my fill of venison.  From Chef Hermann’s European Cafe in Cadillac, Mich. (morning show cooking segment during deer season) to the friendly Mecosta County deer processor who packaged venison jerky for troops over seas to the buck pole I attended in Gaylord, Mich (firearm opener)… I tasted venison in many forms (chili, tenderloin, sausage) and it was decidedly nasty.  I just couldn’t stand that gamey flavor.  Ick.  Nothing against those who prepared it.  Just my own preference.  And  I know I’m not alone.

So when my dad’s friend, Frank, brought in a quarter of a deer this week after his weekend hunting expedition — I feared I would be skipping the afternoon employee/family meal for days to come.

The secret to non-gamey venison: ginger. And a proper shot, too, apparently.

We got to talking about my disdain for venison.  According to Frank, the way the deer is taken as well as handled and trimmed has a lot to do with the resulting taste of the meat.  But so does the preparation.  My dad says “gwai lo” don’t know how to properly cook deer.  No offense to my many “gwai lo” readers — those who relish the fruits of their annual hunts.  But he might be on to something.

So what’s the secret?  Well… ginger.  The venison must be prepared with ginger.  Monday we ate ours sauteed with peppers, onions and tons of ginger.  Tuesday, we had a venison stew with Chinese bean curds and black mushrooms — yes, seasoned with ginger.

I’m a believer.  There can be non-gamey venison.

Let’s face it — corporate America’s entry into the Asian food sector years ago has brought us many fun dining experiences.  I don’t have to name too many names — P.F. Chang’s, Big Bowl, you get the idea.

We ushered our dad into a P.F. Chang’s in Edina, Minn. about six or seven years ago — to show him how “cool” it looked inside.  And to see how good those chicken lettuce wraps are.  He was not impressed.  The stir fry dishes were too salty.  The food didn’t appear to be cooked correctly in the woks.  In short, it wasn’t his cooking.

Dad gives commentary on the samplings we tried at The Big Bowl in Edina, Minn.

Nearly a decade later — my dad is finally starting to see the light on what these places can tell him.  They are destinations for those seeking a great time.  The food is good and it’s usually presented magnificently.  Their offerings cater to popular tastes — and their menus and specials reflect what people really, really want.  Their interiors are beautiful.

While Red Moon may never have the financial backing to create such an opulent setting, we can learn from the experience these places offer.  What are we doing at the moment to try and compete a little better?

• We are improving our marketing media: menus, Web site, flyers, coupons — all with cheekier copy
• We are considering beer and wine and possible interior improvements to go with
• We are developing menu items that appeal to more mainstream tastes but compliment and accentuate the Cantonese cuisine and style we’ve already mastered.  Of course, we’ll have some chicken lettuce wraps — haha, better late than never.
• We are emphasizing local ties — just joined the local chamber

Monday night, my dad brought his kitchen staff, my brother Alex and me to the Big Bowl in Edina, Minn.  He wanted to see their take on the Mongolian BBQ, (something we’re not planning to replicate, fyi).  We ended up getting a number of things on their menu labeled “Wow!” meaning extremely popular.  I really wanted him to try a corporatized-Americanized-Asianized salad.  Why?  Because they’re good.  They’re popular.  And because I knew my dad could come up with something as good — likely better.

A dressing recipe comes together: a secret I won't be sharing, not even during an episode of "Cooking with the Kwans."

Years ago, he concocted an amazing sesame dressing but stopped making it.  Just last night we  brought it back from the grave with a few touches I suggested.  We think we’ve found the key to a couple new menu items — including a chopped Chinese chicken salad.

There’s never any shame in learning from the competition.  Especially if they seem to be doing things exceedingly well.  The envy sometimes gets you thinking.  Not about becoming a copycat — but about how you will unleash your own ingenuity.  The stuff that will make you become a little bit envied, studied, admired.

Thursday night, we experimented with our own chicken lettuce wraps. We finally have something we want to sell -- and it's all in the sauce.

Sometime in the mid- to late-1990s, a new batch of hard-working and industrious Chinese immigrants came to do business in America.  And like many who came before them — these first-generation Chinese-Americans opened restaurants.

But these people did something a little bit differently — and it appeared to be some sort of coordinated effort.  Their product is the now-ubiquitous “China Buffet.”  So common, grand and successful, I’m sure they ran an Old Country Buffet (Hometown Buffet in some parts) or two out of business.  You know the joint: lots of steam tables, extra-greasy food cooked in the same pre-made sauce and those large, backlit portraits of the Temple of Heaven and Great Wall.

I’m not going to harp on the alleged seedier side of this story, but rather on the lasting impression I feel those buffets have made on how the masses view “Chinese food.”

For decades, families like mine dished-up Chinese food in classic, chop-suey-style takeout restaurants and the occasional finer establishment. (Congratulations to the Fong family on 50 great years! — My parents met working at their Bloomington restaurant in the late 70′s.)  We proudly serve Minnesota-style chow mein and we cook in the Cantonese style.  Lots of fresh vegetables.  Proud of our stir-fry dishes.  Red Moon uses real Cantonese-style noodles — not spaghetti-style noodles (who the hell thought that was a good idea?)  Our lunch buffets are modest in size but grand in flavor and freshness.  Just the right selection for an excellent lunch, right?

When Minnesotans said they loved Chinese food — ours was the food they raved about.  It was our brand.  Not defined by million-dollar ad campaigns or crafty marketing — but by tradition.

Today, I’m not so sure about that.  The “China Buffet” has muddied what people expect of “Good Chinese” or “Amazing Chinese” in our case.  As my dad says, “sometimes people don’t know what’s good.  You have to tell them.”  Trouble is, quantity speaks — and those buffets have it.

I thought of this dilemma last Saturday when a lady called Red Moon asking for directions, saying she was “looking for a good Chinese buffet.”  I told her how to get to Red Moon and told her she’d love our food.  I said “there’s a lot of crap out there, you’ll love ours.”  I’m pretty sure I spotted her party walking into our restaurant.  Two of them looked at our modest, single steam table, exchanged a few exasperated words and made a beeline for our front door.  I didn’t even have a chance to change their impression.

Ask my dad, and he’ll tell you he’d rather not feed those people, because they might not appreciate what he’s got to offer: amazingly prepared food.

But I worry that their mindset is a systematic shift in how people see Chinese.  And now, in late 2009 as the China Buffet’s own reputation has waned in our sour economy, I worry they may be carrying the greater Chinese food brand with them.  Are we all a loosely similar band of comfort/junk food-slingers?

I think it’s high time some of us reclaimed the classic, Chinese American-style brand.  Even as some of the buffet operators open smaller takeout joints to compete even more with restaurants like Red Moon, I will be steadfast in my desire to amp-up our customer service, our ties to the community and our unabashed pride in good, fresh cooking.

We will take back the brand.  Who’s with me in spreading the good word?

Tin Tat Kwan in the kitchen of Kwan's Chinese Cuisine in the summer of 1982.

Today, I rediscovered this fun photo of my dad and scanned it so I could share it with my blog readers and on the “About Us” page of redmoonchinesecafe.com.  What I like about it is the smile, the optimism that shines through.  My dad is 27-years-old in the photo.  I am 27 right now.  Twenty-seven years prior to that photo being taken, dad was born in a fishing and rice-cultivating village in southern China where things would only go downhill as he grew under Communism’s grip.  Twenty-seven years after the photo brings us to today… when I couldn’t imagine having the courage to open up my own little restaurant — and the wherewithal to keep it running day after day.  My mom and dad are great successes because they made it work.  That’s pretty cool.

Tonight, I got a neat little story about our first restaurant, Kwan’s Chinese Cuisine (54th and Penn Ave. S., Minneapolis), because the person who took that photo was in the restaurant tonight.  My dad’s good, good friend, Warren and his wife Andrea are in every Saturday.  Warren was one of my dad’s first customers and pretty much instantly became a good friend.

How good a friend?  Well, shortly after my mom and dad opened their little chop suey joint (and Kwan’s really was a chop suey joint — with five booths, five tables and a ‘chow mein to take home’ neon sign in the window), the friendly Minneapolis health inspector came by to tell them their place was a dump.  And what did they know?  They just plunked money down to buy it!  It had to look perfect to them!  Turns out, they had ten thousand dollars in work that needed to be done… new tile floor, wall issues that needed to meet code, etc.  So what did they do?  Not much.  But Warren and his friend John came to the rescue.  They fixed the place up — working around my dad, who I believe refused to close for the two days they asked so they could get the job done.

Tin Tat, Warren and Andrea at Red Moon in 2009. A lot has changed. Thankfully, many things have not.

So much can change in 27 years.  But I’m glad some things do not, like great friendships with people like Warren.  There are a number of instances I do not know what my dad would have done without Warren’s friendship, compassion and advice.  For that, I’ll always be grateful.

Right off the bat, I’m going to make it clear that I have only one side of this story — the small business owner who is trying to make it through a relatively rough patch: Tin Tat Kwan, owner of Red Moon Chinese Cafe.

A few months ago, when I was still living in Michigan, I learned that my dad had severed ties with the local Pepsi bottler in a huff — something about outrageous prices for the syrup restaurants mix into soda and inflexibility in getting deliveries of just one or two boxes of the stuff when we needed it.  Deepening the discord, Tin Tat found out from a friend/neighbor/franchisee of a huge national chain that he was paying LOTS more for the soda than say, a sandwich shop that also serves Pepsi.  Dad was pissed, to put it lightly.  He always says he requires a “special touch” from anyone he does business with.  What does that mean?  Well, that every once in awhile, a sales person, agent or rep stops in to B-S a little and have a bite, (a free bite at that)!  Pepsi wasn’t even coming close, according to dad.  All of this drove him to put an end to a nearly three-decade old relationship.  Pepsi let a 30-year customer walk away.

Tell me:  when should that happen?  When do you let a longtime customer get that upset?  Reminder, I’m telling only one side of the story.  Perhaps communication was a problem.  (I bet it was, actually.)

So for the last few months, Red Moon’s been serving canned- and two-liter soda.  Not the best quality for a sit-down restaurant, in my opinion.  But it’s been working and dad didn’t have to deal with Pepsi directly.

Starting soon, we will not deal with them at all.  Ever.  Not a single one of their products will touch Red Moon again.

Goodbye Pepsi. The Red Moon will bid farewell to Pepsi products later this month, after a nearly 30-year relationship, the Kwan family will wash its hands of Pepsi in favor of Coca-Cola.

This week, we signed up to exclusively sell and serve Coke products.  And what is Coke doing to make us feel welcome into “The Coke Family?”  The syrup is incredibly cheaper.  They are getting us two coolers to store canned sodas for our takeout customers (two!), and they have more flexible delivery options.  They’re also getting us a brand new soda fountain and running all new lines.  A fresh, clean start.

Now if anyone from Coke finds this blog entry, I wouldn’t go patting yourselves on the back too soon.  While we’re pleased with your offerings thus far, do not forget about “the special touch.”

If anyone from Pepsi is reading this, you ought to figure out how this happened.  Even if things got heated… where was the person with a passion for customer service who should have come by to make things right?

You'll even catch it in a blur: a silly-sounding restaurant name in Belle Plaine, Minn. begs questions about marketing a small Chinese restaurant: Where the heck do we begin?

We passed the Chinese restaurant in a blur, traveling 60 miles per hour down Highway 169 in Belle Plaine, Minn.  But the neon sign on the east side of the freeway was something a keen eye for sophomoric humor wouldn’t miss.  Couldn’t miss.  Didn’t miss.  There it was, prime real estate facing a busy highway, labeled “Mei Dong Garden.”  Another Chinese restaurant inviting more giggles than guys hungry for Moo Goo Gai Pan.

“Don’t they ask anyone if it’s a good name first?” I asked my mom, who was driving us down to see my grandmother in Fairmont, Minn.  She was too busy laughing about the name to really give me a good answer.  But it’s something we’ve always wondered.  How do the Mei Dongs of the world ever come to be without more careful consideration or consultation from a more fluent English speaker?  Or at least one who suffers from the occasional case of gutter-mind?

Thankfully, my Scandinavian, Minnesota-born mom, my brothers and I have always been nearby to prevent too much “Chinglish” from infiltrating the Red Moon.  But somehow our Wonton Soup is a gratuitous treat, labeled “wanton” soup on the dinner buffet.  I find it funny, so I’m leaving it be for now.

For the record, I believe Mei Dong Garden means something like “Beautiful Eastern Garden.”  A great little restaurant name.  Why not just call it that?

Well it’s not easy to market a little mom and pop Chinese restaurant — and obviously it starts before the doors open for the first time, when someone has to come up with the name.

We’re (and by “we” I mean the chop suey sellers of the world) all up against a lot right now:

• Corporate fast-casual entry into the Asian dining sector (Minnesota has always had Leeann Chin’s but now has Pei Wei, too)
• Innovate too much or market too fancy and you ostracize a substantial chunk of folks who know what they want (Minnesota-style chow mein, of course!)
• Advertising rates remain high enough to make you nervous while audience fragmentation is clear to any media consumer with a brain.  Is it even worth it?  We seem to be barely beyond the abacus — we’ve got to start an Excel sheet to track this “ROI-business.”  Everything is anecdotal right now: “yeah, people use that coupon a lot.”
• Hopping on the social media bandwagon with sponsored ads on sites like Yelp.com seems smart, but the rates and time commitment are a lot to swallow on a whim. (Plus, Red Moon still has no organic Yelp reviews — our local competitors have one apiece, max.)  Yelp might be exploding in Minneapolis right now.  It’s questionable whether it is a hit in Eden Prairie.

The list could go on for a long while.  But this much has been made clear to me: I’m not to spend a ton of money at this point in time.  So that means grass roots, word-of-mouth marketing for Red Moon Chinese Cafe.  Flyers, friendly smiles and things like that.  Keeping our Web site inviting to potentially new customers (Look for a re-launch of RedMoonChineseCafe.com soon!)  Maybe a little salesmanship outside the confines of the dining room.

So here goes nothing.  I’ll have been here two weeks this Wednesday.  It’s time to do this thing!  Thankfully, we have a good name to stand on.

Red Moon's Logo -- designed by my mom in conjunction with the people who made our neon sign out front.

BONUS STORY: Here’s how the “Red Moon” name came to be, interestingly.  My mom and I (and my brothers, I guess) were both leading our lives according to some rich principles of faith back in 1995-1996 (Boy, is that ever euphemistic!)  She more than I, as I was a mere 13-years-old.  Anyway.  In the Bible’s Book of Revelations, there is some reference to the moon turning blood-red during the “end times.”  I’m not about to research the particulars, but it has to do with the second-coming of Jesus.  The name was a reflection of faith.

Today, it remains a classy name with a little bit of brand-value, thanks to my dad’s good cooking and our nice base of loyal, local customers.  People also infer that the name has something to do with the Harvest Moon Festival in China (Chinese: 中秋節)  Conveniently, it works out either way you want to see it.

Thankfully, we are not fighting those ridiculous giggles.  But we are up against just about everything else those other little mom and pops are.  And I’m ready to do battle.

Wow.  My head is spinning with ideas, concerns, changes, worries and more.  One week at the Red Moon and I still feel like I haven’t done much to help.  But then I’m reminded of my goal: K.I.S.S., as we’re told in storytelling: Keep It Simple, Stupid.  I am here to improve upon our strengths (like great, amazing, carefully- and lovingly-prepared food, as well as friendly, family-like service). Stick to the basics.  That alone should drive more business.

And thankfully, it’s pretty easy to keep my chin up about the process — because I get constant reminders–big and small–of how much people genuinely respect and love my dad’s food.  It’s gratification that makes me feel amazing inside — like our family has really done something successful.

Minnesota Vikings tight end Visanthe Shiancoe tweeted this pic, saying we "have good chinese food!" A day later, more than 800 people had viewed the photo.

Yesterday, Minnesota Vikings tight end Visanthe Shiancoe came in and tweeted a picture of his specially-ordered Beef, Chicken, Shrimp and Broccoli to his 8,700 followers.  Now, I wouldn’t normally go blabbing about our regular celebrity customers (he is one of them) — and I didn’t have to break the news here (Haha, “news.”)  He wanted to share that he was really liking our Chinese so he used Twitter to make that public himself.  How awesome is that?  Twitter rocks.

But there is a long list of gratifying moments from the past few days that are equally satisfying.  And they have nothing to do with NFL players.  On Monday a new customer came in for takeout — his daughter was in Eden Prairie for an extra-curricular activity.  They actually live more than 30 miles away.  Ironically, at the same time, a customer had driven 25 miles from about the same area just to pick up some takeout.  They got to chatting about a Chinese place closer to home.  Our dedicated customer said he didn’t like it.  The new customer said he loved it.  All of a sudden, I had a lot to prove to this new guy.  The test would be if he came back tonight to try something else while his daughter was back in town for her activity.  He did.  We passed the test.  He loved Monday’s order.  I cannot tell you how good that feels.

I’m grateful we have loyal, hard-working employees who’ve stuck with us through busy and slow.  But I can tell you right now, nothing beats a Kwan at the front of the house to tell our thankful customers how thankful we are, to make heart-felt menu suggestions and to make sure people are truly taken care of.  A million thanks to all of our customers.  You’re fun to talk to.  You’re enthusiastic about good food.  We wouldn’t survive without you!  I can’t wait to spend the next year chatting with all of you, new customers and old customers.

I’ve had a lot of fun over the last year or so trying to help my dad with the marketing of the restaurant.  I’ve developed a Web site, new takeout menu, Web coupons (Check these out for a Halloween freebie!), and tonight I put in an order for the latest batch.

I firmly believe that quality promotional materials can really set us apart from some of our competition without sacrificing any of the quaint charm mom and pop Chinese restaurants are known for.  And I save a lot of money by doing this all myself.  Lucky for my dad, it’s kind of a hobby.  Here’s what we’ve got:

The copy reads: "So you get fierce Red Moon cravings often? You are clearly not alone." (image altered for security)

This will be the newest takeout coupon that we typically throw in all of our takeout orders to encourage more frequent visits.  I’ve altered the artwork just a bit to stave off any copyright infringement — I did pay for that dragon art, after all.  But you get the gist.

The backside (not pictured) has a fortune cookie with an expiration date on the paper — the copy reads “Act Fast! Or the Luck Runs Out.”

Gift certificates -- we have them in $10 denominations -- the new ones will provide more options. (image altered for security)

These are some new gift certificates that will give the customers more options (We already offer these in $10 denominations.)  The new design is narrower, to fit better in wallets.  All of this stuff is also coming with a matte instead of a glossy finish — the Sharpies will work better that way.

I’m also going to go door-to-door to advertise some of our lunch catering and to hit some of the new office complexes in the area.  My dad and I agreed that while generous, these $5 gift certificates would be a great comp to hand out to potential catering customers.  Especially office gatekeepers.  With our price structure, we should be able to recoup food cost at a minimum when they are redeemed.

Lastly — it’s official.  Check this out:

Made myself a Red Moon business card -- you know, to be all professional and stuff.

By the way, I have been using an excellent printer out of California to whip these things up — at a great price.  If there are other small business people out there who want to know more, drop me an email.  I’d be happy to share my sources

Of course, when it comes to selling people on the Red Moon, nothing beats the food.  And I was reminded of that many times today, including by a customer who drove 25 miles from Woodbury solely to get some takeout.  Wow.  Isn’t that awesome?  I’ve always wondered why the mainstream food writers never really picked up on my dad’s cooking.  Well, there’s always time.

The beginnings of a nice lunch rush at Red Moon on Friday, October 23, 2009.

For all of my friends outside of the Twin Cities (the majority of my readers right now, I imagine), here’s what the restaurant basically looks like from the corner of the dining room near the steam table.

We have about 75 seats.  My mom picked the artwork and paint color 13 years ago  when we opened up.  I happen to like it, it’s charming and rather timeless.  A few changes I envision are perhaps a more modern-looking table setting, you know the soy sauce and stuff like that.  Got any ideas for me?

Business was great today — the best single day in a long time, actually.  I guess my presence is already paying off.  Ha.  If only.

Well, day one at the Red Moon is done — and yeah, I was a bit late.

I honestly cannot write much about day one because my mind is racing with ideas… and worries.  I knew this wouldn’t be an easy endeavor, but going through the motions today, I realized how much patience and persistence are going to be required to make improvements at the restaurant.

Keep it simple.  Stick to what we do well.  Repeat.

While I am most excited about using this blog to relay some of Tin Tat’s life stories — this is also going to be a place for raw restaurant ideas to spew forth.  Some will take root and sprout into something presentable.  Others will amount to waste.  Oh, Red Moon.

Because the business side of things has really got me all a-twitter… let me give you a preview of a forthcoming post.  It’s more up my alley.  It’s a story I knew I’d want to tell when my dad first told me about a neat customer of his a few months ago.

Lunch at the Red Moon -- a hoot and a holler -- as good people talk about how much they love another good person.. you'll meet him soon.

You see how happy they are?  That’s my dad on the left, A-yi (auntie Wan) in between, and Lok to the right.  They are gesturing, laughing and truly joyed to be telling me about this fascinating customer who has them all intrigued.  He’s a south Asian immigrant who is hearing-impaired — completely deaf.  Yet, somehow these three people with varying degrees of really broken English know so much about this guy.  How, you ask?  Some very inspiring communication, or so I’m led to understand.  As our family friend Frank (off camera to the left) said at lunch, “it’s an example of the possibilities that can arise if two parties are willing.”

Who knew friendship (the family-like kind, according to my dad) was truly available so freely?  We’ll see just how it can be yours and mine — as soon as I meet this guy myself.