Chinese restaurants here on the coast have always left something to be desired. Why keep visiting them? Well, I guess it’s because I’m hoping I’ll eventually find one that impresses me. And if I don’t, at least I’ll have gotten another one out of the way. While all previous Americanized Chinese restaurants have been given poor marks for their mediocrity and lack of specialties, Dragon River was quite the opposite, offering dishes not served elsewhere and registering high in some areas, incredibly low in others.

Most of the appetizers are the same mainstays everyone else has: fried shrimp (eight for $6.25) are thickly battered and best eaten in the one-minute window between tongue-blistering hot and greasily cold; barbecued pork ($5.95), served warm, is tough and dry; crab puffs ($5.25) are crispy and filled with a crab and cream cheese mixture, though I’ve never actually detected any crab. The wild card I’d never seen before was the “paper-wrapped chicken” ($6.55), which was actually bound in foil. Folded in a triangular shape not unlike a paper football, the package is filled with tender, soy-marinated chicken pieces. Unless you’re a hardcore fan of any one specific dish, it’s best to order the appetizer plate ($7.50, $10.50) and get to try a little bit of everything while avoiding the commitment to a large portion of something possibly disappointing.

The first dish I was impressed with was the wonton noodle soup ($7.55). Although it was a little too bulky to really be considered a soup, the array of ingredients was exactly what I liked about it. At the bottom of the bowl sat the soft noodles. Atop the noodles rested at least six large wontons, soft dumplings filled with garlic-spiked pork sausage. Among the wontons were prawns, sliced chicken breast, barbecued pork, baby corn, bamboo shoots, onions, carrots, zucchini and pea pods. The small amount of room left over in the bowl was occupied by the delicious broth, of which I’d have preferred more.

Other multiple-protein dishes didn’t fare as well. Garlic turbo ($9.95), a mishmash of beef, shrimp, chicken and vegetables in a starch-thickened garlic sauce, just didn’t have anything stand out successfully. This was also the first in a series of dishes where the beef had that strange spongy texture I’ve only found in Chinese food. I don’t know which cut it comes from or how it’s prepared, only that it doesn’t seem natural somehow.

The same was evident in the Mongolian beef ($9.75). I liked the gravyish sauce (though it wasn’t spicy as indicated), but the texture still disappointed. It’s hard to describe, but there’s a gluey, gelatinous mouthfeel to it, and the meat is tender and chewy at once.

Another dish that failed to deliver on the heat was the Kung Pao shrimp ($10.25), a standby dish with peanuts, water chestnuts and the always-present mirepoix. Of all the shrimp I had at Dragon River, in this dish it was oddly mushy.

The most anticipated and most disappointing dish of them all was the Peking duck ($13.50). Normally, you need to order this in advance, so I was surprised to see it casually tossed on the menu with all the other quick-fry items. I’ve had this dish in restaurants that specialize in it, so my expectations were very high. Preparing Peking duck is a laborious process involving an air compressor, blanching, glazing, drying and usually a special hanging oven. The skin is crispy and sweet, the meat within is tender and moist. I was served duck jerky. Well, that’s not entirely true, as jerky seldom contains bones. It was served in the traditional way, with a side plate of paper-thin “pancakes” for wrapping, along with bean sprouts and scallions, and plum sauce for dipping. But it really wasn’t possible to eat it that way. The tough meat was connected either to tougher skin or to bone, and picking it up and biting off what meat I could was far preferable to picking it all off with my fingers and trying to make a little burrito. This dish is usually served whole, and in many cases carved tableside. Here, it is a random pile of pieces on a plate. I heard a microwave working while I awaited the duck, which may help explain its texture.

Although the duck left much to be desired, I returned one more time in hopes of redemption … and found it. The lettuce wrap ($8.95) is something no one serves in these parts. I’ve had versions elsewhere with sliced steak, shredded daikon and whole leaves of butter lettuce. Here, it’s different, with iceberg leaves (a good sturdy choice) supporting a filling of ground pork with onions, scallions and chopped water chestnuts in a light gravy. These are a bit like Asian tacos, and can indeed be picked up – a perfect choice for someone watching their carbohydrates.

The most impressive dish I had was the simplest: chicken lo mein ($7.65). The last place I had this used spaghetti noodles, but Dragon River uses the thinner, Cantonese-style chewy noodles. The sauce was light and unimposing, the marinated chicken was plentiful and I really appreciated the thin, noodle-shaped strips of carrot and the julienned onion. Finally, a dish with some thought put into it.

Long ago, I grew tired of the sweet and sour, the fried rice and the combo meals at such restaurants, so I like to sample the specialties. But I do realize many readers stay within that comfort zone. We tried a combo plate and found it to be perfectly satisfactory, if only too familiar. The best thing that sets Dragon River apart is the home delivery, which is available during operating hours for an additional $3.

Every once in a while, the fortune in my cookie is more than just a vague prophecy. I’ll always keep the one I found on my final visit. “Your lucky number is 9,” it declared. On the flipside were six numbers, none of them 9.