Famous Wok — Restaurant in Chesterfield

Like a Rocky Waterfall, a review… It was around 5’o clock, Post Meridiemon, central standard time, on a warm summer day. I was tagging along with my sister to return some items at the Outlet Mall. The car ride had diminished my energy; I had been famished and was eagerly searching for places to quickly satiate my abnormal hunger. When we arrived at the mall, I headed straight to the food court. My sister did some shopping and began to return the items she had bought the previous day. I eyed a Charley’s, a smoothie bar, and then the luminous sign of “Famous Wok.” It reminded me of the 80’s or 90’s, when hideous illuminated signs dominated the boardwalks and main streets of middle America (they still do). I could have been in Vegas, in a different era. As a vegan, my options for fast food are extremely limited. As I scanned the hot pans of a gritty American-Chinese restaurant, I found only the lo mein and mixed vegetables to be acceptable to my diet. Charley’s, which I now look at as a possible savior, perhaps only had fries and a drink to ease the burden in my belly. A lady walked out as I finished my scan. I was headed to look at other establishments, but her presence made me stay—a terrible omen which I had yet to realize. I ordered the lo mein and vegetables, thinking that they would be almost exactly like Panda Express. The woman piled both high in the styrofoam to-go box, and rang me up. I paid with a Visa gift card, but there was still 28 cents left over. This was another portent, another that I should run away immediately, forsake the food that would come to poison me and forsake the 10 minutes I had to wait for said food—standing anxiously, hungrily, as two workers seemed to yell at eachother in a language I did not know. I gave them the 28 cents (another mistake; the price was not worth it) and headed to the belly of the food court to eat the white box I had just purchased. Sitting in a lonesome chair in the middle of the court, while my sister had her jewelry cleaned next door, I thought for a moment about my experience: how the fast food industry has definitively altered the American worker. The worst paying opportunities often are cast aside for immigrant workers who speak little English. A proletariat like this cannot receive benefits, unionize, fight for better working conditions, or maintain the safety and knowledge of food-borne illnesses if they are shifted from job to job in the restaurant sector. What a distressing observation, as I dug into the lo mein and feasted. Immediately I abhorred the food, but thought it was passable given my current situation. The noodles were dry; the vegetables were covered in oil and grease. I felt as though the unhealthy calories I was depositing in my body were almost pure fat, pure oil, with little nutrition, and what I should have also felt was a pathogen or virus or toxin embedded in that heap of grease and carbohydrates. Disgusting. One of the worst meals I have ever had, which probably shaved some precious time out of my life. But I let it go, and continued on with the errands. 2:50 AM. I have awoken from a nightmare. My stomach doesn’t feel right. I don’t know what it is but it compels me to enter the bathroom, wearily and sleepily. I will not disgust you with the details of my constipation or diarrhea. But I will warn you to be very weary of this establishment and places like it—that seem too convenient, too easy, too filling. If you have to dump spice packets on oily lo mein which glistens the white styrofoam, do not continue to eat it. Learn from my mistake, even though I should have never made it. I hope my pain—a constant rustling of my stomach which now sounds like a monster possessing my soul, the push and pull of bowel movements which do not adhere to your plans or schedule, and the rushing and yet erratic downward exit of excrement. May my body flush this toxin outward, ( and not continue to engage in the rocky pursuit of rapids and gorges) and may you live and eat peacefully at the St. Louis premium outlets in Chesterfield,...

The food was blah. I felt like they were cutting corners. They used spaghetti noodles for the lo mein which was disappointing. The fried rice was dry and tasted stale like it was left over from another day. The orange chicken was ok. There was only a juice place, Philly cheesesteak and this stall in the outlet food court which was really sad for an outlet that gets a lot of foot traffic. I noticed after I sat down and ate that the cook in the back was not wearing any sort of head gear and neither was the...

We where there on a slow day food looked dry and these ppl were not friendly nor inviting,when ask to sample something they refused and didn't want to service us after we came back after deciding what we were going to eat. I was over it when we walked away,they said don't buy and waived their hands...they day after questioned how long food was setting 4hours was the response 🙄 it was only them and...