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With two you get...yelled at? Having missed the Chinese New Year's parade this year, it looks like a trip to Sam Wo is soon upon us. I think one of my earliest memories of the place is crying into my fluorescent-pink shrimp post-Purple Onion freakout while the boy I was secretly seeing barfed his whiskey-and-cokes up in the tiny bathroom under the stairs and my roommate, undeterred by any of this kept edging his fork across the table with a "if you're not going to eat that...". Let the good times continue. Actually, Sam Wo's got to be one of my 17 favorite places in the city, decidedly more for the history and Lynch-ian atmosphere than the $4 broccoli beef (though I can't knock the BBQ pork rolls). I can't find an actual date, but I've heard its been open over a century at this point and I can only hope with a waiter or waitress as insane as Edsel Ford Fung, winner of the Herb Caen World's Rudest Waiter award. I think the current lady is a definite runner up. In a city hard up for late night snacks, I love that Sam Wo hasn't changed a bit as long as I've lived here...three stories of pure mania at 813 Washington Street.