Chengdu Impression Edgewater 成都印象 — Restaurant in Lake View Township

★★☆☆☆ – A Mind-Numbing Experience (Literally!)

I genuinely appreciate local, regional, and authentic cuisines, and Chengdu Impression certainly claims to be one. But whether it was the server’s lack of enthusiasm in guiding us or simply our own blissful ignorance, we walked straight into a culinary ambush.

We kicked things off with Zhong’s Dumplings—Sichuan-style pork dumplings bathed in a red chili sauce with a hint of sweetness. Not bad, not great—just a solid 6/10, the kind of dish that neither wows you nor offends you, like elevator music for the taste buds.

Next up, the Combo Fried Noodle—a mix of veggies, chicken, beef, and shrimp. Easily the best dish of the night, though that’s not saying much. It started out promising but got progressively greasier until we felt like we were panning for oil at the bottom of the plate.

Now, onto the main event—our two accidentally chosen entrees, which turned our mouths into war zones. Enter Chengdu Style Dry Chili Chicken and Mala Fish Fillet, both featuring an ingredient we later discovered to be Sichuan peppercorns. Now, when I saw the word numbing on the menu, I (foolishly) assumed it was a playful exaggeration—like calling a drink "explosive" or a sauce "fire." Oh, how wrong I was. This wasn’t just numbing; this was a full-scale mutiny on my nervous system. Water tasted like a camel’s pee (not that I’ve done a taste test, but you get the idea). My tongue? Useless. My taste buds? Gone. My ability to form coherent words? Severely compromised.

And here’s where the real issue lies—the server. I specifically asked which chicken dish to order, and he recommended this one without so much as a friendly warning: Hey, just a heads-up, this dish will erase your sense of taste and make you question your life choices. Nothing. Not a peep. It’s as if he was secretly entertained by our suffering. Maybe they take bets in the back on which unsuspecting customer will tap out first.

Look, I respect Sichuan cuisine—it’s bold, complex, and exciting. The numbing peppercorns do serve a purpose, creating a tingling sensation that enhances other flavors and balances the heat. But that’s assuming you know what you’re getting into and want that experience. We, on the other hand, were flying blind and crash-landed into an edible electric fence.

At the very least, it was an interesting adventure—like bungee jumping without checking the cord. But would I do it again? Absolutely not. If you’re new to Sichuan cuisine, enter at your own risk—just don’t count on the staff to throw you...

(Update) We have ordered from here since they opened. Originally, they were authentically spicy and flavorful. Then they over-corrected a year ago, I assume due to complaints by people unfamiliar with Szechuan cuisine, and everything became very bland. Then perhaps six months ago the food returned to its original spiciness and flavor. But at the same time their hours shortened, they stopped serving lunch, and they started to get really inconsistent. Now we have gotten used to delivery orders containing at least one item that is stale or rancid, or containing insultingly tiny containers of rice (as in, not even enough rice for the single dish they came with.) Sometimes it’s the hot and sour soup. Twice in the past two weeks, it has been the cold Sichuan noodle salad that arrived completely rancid, made with very obviously stale sesame oil. Last night we also got scallion pancakes that were made so ridiculously thin, it was very clear they were trying to save money by scamming on food portion and size.

It’s very disappointing but they are clearly checked out and using ingredients past their prime that they should not be using. There are other authentic Szechuan options in Chicago, including near Edgewater. (Lao Szechuan in Uptown is a good alternative.) We are probably not going to be ordering again, or at least not for a while. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if they closed. Because I can’t think why else they would be using stale ingredients, scamming on portion sizes, and rationing out white...

LETHALLY salty dry twice cooked beef with celery should come with a warning. It was the saltiest dish I've ever had served as food, not a revenge prank. I arrived ravenous, left having eaten about half of it, with a few tablespoons of rice, 2 small cups of hot tea, (also a terrible experience... what sort of Chinese restaurant can't make a pot of tea?) and don't want to think about food for a good long while. If people from this region of China love salt more than a Swede, I've learned something. Even if this is so, serving this dish without a dire warning is cruel. Were this an inexpensive restaurant, I'd not be bitter enough to leave a bad review. Sadly, this was $25/plate torture, with no alcohol or appetizers. The oddity of the staff cannot be overlooked either. Despite uttering questioning words, they seemed completely oblivious to any sort of answer, and clear signs that I wanted to be left alone. Highlight came early when I knocked my mother's purse off of an extra chair, a waitress practically dove over me to pick up what fell. The hovering never stopped, until there was actually a need for something to be done. While salt is a personal taste, I cannot fathom any restauranteur who'd like to avoid bankruptcy serving what I was served tonight. I can't think of a place I'd less...