Stir-Fry-To-Go
2909 Old Knoxville Hwy., Maryville
980-0550
by Herb B. Free
Call it what you will: to-go, take-out, carryout, or take-away, the concept is nearly ubiquitous in our culinary culture. Don't have the time to cook your own or to sit down to eat in a restaurant, but want to fill the bag or box with the best-prepared food you can find to bring home to the table? Go to the specialist. There are plenty of them around, ready to fill your order on the fly.
In the realm of convenient carryout, two styles of ethnic foods have risen above all other varieties. They are Chinese and Italian. The first found favor early on in harried, hurried post-World War II America. The little white paper "goldfish" boxes with the wire handles came onto the scene conspicuously at Chinese restaurants and, literally, went right out the door. Just a little later, those flat semi-insulating cardboard boxes designed specifically to hold pizzas brought the Italian-American pasta-fied staple to the fore.
Around Knoxville, the choices in each category are many, but not all that varied. Except for one or two, the Chinese restaurants are dominated by the sort of selections that the proprietors deem appropriate to the American palate—sort of dumbed-down versions of regional dishes from the old country. Italian places are more often links in national or regional chains and suffer from something similar—please all palates at the expense of the most-discriminating.
A couple of standouts are south of town in the Maryville-Alcoa area, and they are worth the occasional foray there, even if it means going home to Farragut or Concord via the Pellissippi Parkway in a 20-mile detour. Blount Countians and South Knoxvillians have it easier, and they appreciate it.
Stir-Fry To-Go is what Sam Choy calls his tiny establishment—two tables for two and an ordering counter—in the Clark's Grove strip mall at Old Knoxville Highway and Hunt Road at the north edge of Maryville.
Choy's bill of fare looks to be pretty standard, but his specials are what set off the bells and whistles of discovery. "Chef Sam's Special Lo Mein," for example, is a quart of thin wheat noodles, stir-fried in the juices of onion, garlic, carrot and the four meats—pork, chicken, beef, and shrimp—that make it one of the best noodle dishes this side of Beijing. It feeds two at $7.95. You'll recognize the names of most other dishes, but it's their authenticity that will impress you. They are way more Chinese than you may be used to, with strong herb and spice undertones. His egg-drop soup ($1.05 a pint) is rich enough to deserve the Chinese label, "egg-flower soup."
He also features four vegetarian specials at $5.25 a quart (or $3.05 a pint), including an inspired spicy tofu and vegetables mixture he calls "Home Style Tofu."
A native of Guang Zhou, which you may also call Canton, Choy came to the United States 3O years ago and has cooked all over the country, with San Francisco and Minneapolis being two stops he mentions. SFTG, now in its fifth year, is his first restaurant on his own after 12 years living in Blount County and working as a kitchen consultant to others. Friends stop into his kitchen regularly to chat and help chop fresh vegetables. His cooking leaves little wonder that he was in demand as a consultant.
Metro Pizza is another shrine of authenticity, not so much Italian as New York Italian, which is hardly a watered-down version of the original. In between the Lowe's and the Wal-Mart off Alcoa Highway in Alcoa, it is the true "super center" attraction there.
Salvatore Boccia's Neapolitan birthright is put to the lie by his training. When he arrived in the United States as a young man in 1960, he was disappointed that his future looked as dismal as the dishes he was washing to get by.
But a chef in New Jersey gave him the training he needed, and his career took an upturn. His marinara sauce kept it on the rise, and he may have the only real New York pizza in this area. "A fella once asked me what New York pizza looks like. 'Looks like?' I say. 'You want me to show you a picture? It's what it tastes like is what you wanta know.'"
What it tastes like, on thin, hand-thrown crust with the extra cheese that is part of the $10.55 to $18.55 package, is amazing. Add ingredients as you wish. As a regular customer, I've been known to order the $4.55 meatball sandwich, hold the meatballs, to savor the sauce and cheese alone on the fresh-baked roll. His salads are so crisply fresh they fairly crackle on the tongue.
Boccia moved to East Tennessee 14 years ago and operated Roma Pizza at Windsor Square in West Knoxville for a while. He opened Metro Pizza in 1996, and his accent is as undiminished as his skill.
"Alo, Metro Pitz," he'll snort into the phone before taking an order. He says his biz is about 35 percent take-out, as he keeps a dozen tables, seating 50-plus, busy at the lunch and dinner hours. His charm is partly in the Italian ballads he sings as he cooks. But the zing in the sauce is what you'll want to carry home.
May 22, 2003 * Vol. 13, No. 21
© 2003 Metro Pulse
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