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?

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.