Good Fortune isn’t your average Chinese takeout
Run by Strange Donuts co-founder Corey Smale and executive chef/partner Ryan McDonald, the retooled Chinese-American takeout–or–dine-in bistro specializes in small plates.

Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
Your bill arrives in odd fashion: clipped to a postcard, a reproduction of a 19th-century Chinese painting of a New Year’s parade on the Huangpu River. On the back is a curious message: “Simple to open a shop; another thing to keep it open.” It reads like the owner’s admonition to himself.
Good Fortune recently opened to considerable fanfare in Botanical Heights, near other buzzed-about eateries, including Union Loafers, Nixta, Elaia and Olio. Run by Strange Donuts co-founder Corey Smale and executive chef/partner Ryan McDonald, it’s a retooled Chinese-American takeout–or–dine-in bistro serving small plates. What it isn’t is spacious: There are maybe two dozen seats, so either make a reservation, use the Nowait app, or plan on a wait. The penalty box–size bar is well stocked, but seats there are often filled, too. An open kitchen takes up two-thirds of the space, which is otherwise composed of brick walls, comfortable chairs, and banquette seating. Aside from chopsticks, only a vintage travel poster suggests anything Chinese. The menu’s Gothic font looks more like a German grandmother’s Bible than a menu, and you won’t find the myriad pages common to many Chinese restaurant menus.
There are about a dozen offerings, and you’ll want to keep an open mind. Good Fortune’s kung pao chicken, for instance, is rendered in whole pieces: a thigh, a leg, a wing, and Thai chilies. It’s fiery good, with a pungent spice marinade flavoring the moist fried poultry. The ubiquitous crab Rangoon gets an outré makeover as the expected crab filling is replaced by salt cod (yes, salt cod) and fermented sweet-and-sour sauce. (Note: The lunch menu includes a St. Paul sandwich, making Good Fortune one of the few places in South City where the beloved local specialty’s still available.)

Photo by Kevin A. Roberts
There are nods to traditional Chinese fare. The pork shumai dumplings are lovely, plump with ground Swabian pork, as fine a juicy rendition as can be found in any dim sum eatery. But other selections, such as the Mushrooms dish—a delicious savory conserva of puréed mushrooms (a Thomas Keller inspiration), wild ginger, nettles, and bone marrow broth—bear no trace of Asia. Most dishes veer to the Chinese in composition, but some interesting detours lead to a variety of destinations.
Szechuan mapo tofu boldly goes where it’s never gone before. The texture of locally cultured tofu tastes as if the cubes have been fried, yielding a pleasant chewiness quite different from the silky smoothness of the dish’s original version. Braised pickled Chinese greens and a spicy fermented black bean sauce add a peppery vinegar bite. Plead to have the rice that comes with it doubled—the standard couple of spoonfuls are way too skimpy. No matter how avant the preparation, sauce and tofu should flavor the rice, not, as here, the other way around.
Spare portioning plagues much of the menu. Sure, we understand the concept: “Small plates” are meant for leisurely nibbling; huaxu—morsels—are meant for sharing. But prices of $10 to $20 predominate, with the notable exception of the $10 takeout menu. Further, there’s the matter of how to share such dishes as the kung pao fried chicken, which must be awkwardly dismembered or boned on a small plate at a small table. On the other hand, ziran paigu pork ribs are splendid for sharing—but you might not want to. Tender, smoky baby back pork ribs are redolent with the heady zing of a cumin rub and exotic spicing. The Royal Congee is another shareable option. Rice is boiled to a soupy porridge with a touch of garlic, black vinegar, egg yolk, and enough molasses to tint it caramel. It’s sweet and pudding-like, a tasty finish to dinner. But as congee? It’s about as authentic as a martial arts scene in Little Women.
The noodle bowls are delectable. Choose from ham, smoked fish, chicken, and tofu, tossed with egg noodles that have been expertly cooked to an al dente firmness and coiled into handsome ceramic bowls with peas and other vegetable nibbles. (Soy sauce is used sparingly here, a welcome departure from the sodium-soaked noodles in many Chinese-American joints.)
The cocktails (including both the classic and tiki variety) are fine, and beer’s on tap. There’s also some mediocre sake. (No, we don’t get the connection there, either.)
Good Fortune reminds diners: “One thing to open; another to stay open.” In light of the quality and innovation here, we might suggest another slogan, from the third-century B.C. poet Qu Yuan: “The separate flavor that is most its own. O Soul come back to where such dainties wait!”
Editor's Note: This story was updated from the original version. Since Mr. Lowry's review, Good Fortune has begun accepting reservations in addition to using the Nowait app. The copy was edited to reflect this change.