Silver Restaurant, located at 737 Washington Street in San Francisco
has earned my unending loyalty
as the result of two incidents that I was not lucky enough to witness myself but which I have heard of from more than one person present.
Phil, a short, red-haired physics student I knew in college, was eating there one evening with a few friends of his. Apparantly, the staff took an instant liking to him.
Not being all that well versed in the use of chopsticks, he first asked for a fork. "You want fork? I no give you fork! Hahahaha!" Said the waiter, who then turned and said something to the rest of the staff in Chinese. One of Phil's companions spoke fluent Chinese and told him that the waiter had just told the rest of the staff not to give the white guy a fork. Great, thinks Phil, no fork.
So they look at the menu and Phil orders something-or-other. The waiter asks him how hot he wants it and Phil says something to the effect of, "As hot as possible." The waiter says, "You sure? Awefully hot!" Phil assured him that he could handle it and the waiter walked away chuckling.
When he comes back with the food, Phil eagerly digs in and instantly goes bug-eyed, grabbing for water and sputtering up his something-or-other. The waiter, of course, is standing by watching and starts to laugh his ass off.
"I warn you! Very hot! Hahahahaha!"
I go back whenever I eat in Chinatown.