RAINBOW CHINESE RESTAURANT

Looking for a place you can depend on for fine, authentic Asian Food?
Here's the real thing.

About two hundred Chinese restaurants are listed in the Minneapolis and St. Paul yellow pages. To stand out in such a crowded field requires something special, and only a handful of that total have what it takes to keep me coming back.

What characteristics earn my loyalty? Two top criteria are that the freshest ingredients are used and that every dish is prepared to order. Canned vegetables, frozen seafood, and bottled sauces are big no-noes in my book, and the sight of warming lamps is enough to send me back out the door.

I like a distinctive menu. Don't offer chow mein, moo goo gai pan, and sweet-and-sour everything. Sauces should possess depth and complexity. And because most Chinese menus seem to run on for pages, someone — the owner, a host, or a server — has to be able to discuss the merits of each dish. The Rainbow Chinese Restaurant, tucked into a mini shopping plaza in south Minneapolis, is a place I'd heard about for years but never gotten around to trying, and I am pleased to report it has it all — an informative waitstaff, an adventurous menu, and great food.

When I arrived for my first dinner, the clean, attrative one-room interior was packed with diners, a good half of whom were Asian, which is always a good sign. Many guests were consuming a hearty noodle soup — chopsticks in one hand, ceramic spoons in the other.

The menu is a mere four pages, roughly half devoted to soup and noodle specialties. I sampled two noodle dishes: Singapore chow mai fun, a large platter of thin vermicelli tossed with bits of barbecued pork, shrimp, onion, bean sprouts, and scallions in a mild curry sauce; and mixed vegetables with black bean sauce (the smoky-tasting vegetables were fresh and crisp). I subsequently learned that you can order these and anything else on the menu — as hot as you like.

Of the dozen of appetizers my favorite was Sichuan wontons, eight steamed pork-and shrimp-filled dumplings bathed in a classic black-bean sauce. Also delicious were the sesame noodles, a combination of thick udon noodles and creamy peanut butter. There were two kinds of spareribs: an undistinguished rendition of barbequed ribs roasted with a sweet, five spice glaze, and a much more tasty variant called Sichuan chopped ribs. The bite-size riblets were deep-fried in a fragrant sauce the consistancy of molasses. The pan-fried dumplings, on the other hand, had thick, doughy casings that didn't contain much filling. Also mediocre were in five-spiced calamari — somewhat too large and rubbery squid pieces lightly battered and deep-fried.

Two of the best entrées were vegetarian. A simple but superlative stir-fry of asparagus in Chinese barbeque sauce came highly recommended by our waiter, and the tangy sauce delivered just the right kick. An unlisted special also deservedly praised by our waiter was the chicken and hollow vegetables with garlic sauce.

A standout in the meat and seafood category was the satay summer beef, a sauté of sliced beef tenderloin and onion served over a bed of steamed napa cabbage and topped with a tangy brown gravy. This satay sauce is a traditional Chinese variety, not the more predictable South-east Asian — style peanut sauce. I was also partial to the honey-walnut shrimp, which paired lightly breaded and deep-fried shrimp with honey-roasted walnuts and a mayonnaise sauce.

On any given night, you can choose from sole, sea bass, or walleye and have it steamed or deep-fried with ginger-scallion sauce, black-bean sauce or hot meat sauce. A touch more spiciness is all I'd suggest to improve upon the remarkably succulent deep-fried seabass and black-bean combination.

The Peking duck was a disappointment. Instead of being carved tableside, our order arrived from the kitchen already sliced. A server then rolled pieces of the not very crisp skin and large chunks of tender meat inside Chinese tortillas along with a length of green onion, a cucumber spear, and hoisin sauce. The cucumber overpowered the delicate meat, and nothing seemed very special about this order-ahead experience, which at $25.95, was by far the costliest item on the menu. I also wasn't enamored of the ma po tofu with meat sauce, a sort of down-home (and quite bland) Chinese hot dish.

The restaurant's adornments are few: a large aquarium filled with lazily swimming koi and a collection of aquatic-life watercolors. You'll find no zodiac place mats or ed tassled latterns here — just comfortable, well-spaced tables set with the basics. The list of beers and wines is short but adequate and well priced.

The Rainbow has earned its reputation as a place to go for authentic Chinese cuisine. I'll definitely be back.