Chillin' Wit' Tangier's mysterious cook: Quang Dao

QUANG DAO, the cook at Tangier, is a bit like the Saigon River that runs through his hometown in Vietnam.

He's quiet and purposeful, but you wonder if there's something going on beneath the surface.

Everyone knows Quang. Few know much about him.

"Large wings to go," the bartender at the watering hole at 18th and Lombard streets tells Quang yesterday afternoon.

The self-effacing 49-year-old strides back to the tiny kitchen where he's been cranking out burgers and wings for 28 years, much of the time working six nights a week.

He drops the chicken into the hot oil and slides a pan of his buttery, vinegary hot sauce onto the burner. The sauce seems to glow.

This nightly routine is coming to an end. Today, after more than 30 years, Tangier is closing its doors.

"People, they want to come and see me. They're very sad. A lot of people are sad," says Quang, whose English is still a tad rusty even though he came to the United States in 1984. "People just keep calling. They say, 'What happened?' "

Former Graduate Hospital employees, now working elsewhere, have been coming back for reunions, Quang says. He doesn't volunteer much information, but he's got a steel-trap memory.

"I remember everything," he says, smiling.

This reporter purchased his first (legal) pint of beer at Tangier more than a decade ago. Quang chuckles at the disclosure.

"A lot of kids, they turn 21, they come over here," he says.

Quang, whose longtime girlfriend is a doctor, takes the subway to work from his home in Olney. He's been mugged a couple of times over the years, but it didn't affect his daily routine. Not any more than dropping a couple of rocks into the Saigon River.

"Kids, they just came and mugged me," he says matter-of-factly. "I kept going."

Quang says he'll probably take some time off. Maybe he'll work for the new owners of the property "if they call me." Maybe he'll do something else.

Tangier owner Jack Roe says selling the business has been an "emotional drama, like a death in the family."

Quang doesn't do drama. He doesn't get emotional. But if you worked at Tangier or were a regular customer, he probably remembers you.

After pouring the glorious hot sauce over one of his last batches of wings, Quang had only three parting words:

"I miss everybody."

That's about as emotional as the man gets.

- William Bender