Welcome back to The Strip Club, highlighting Austin’s destination strip malls. We’re waxin’ and wanin’ at the Crescent!
(Editor’s Note: This is the most bustling strip mall in town, so we split this report into two parts. To be continued in next week’s issue.)
In addition to a galaxy of East Asian eateries, this strip is special because of its sunset vibes. In the evening, as the golden hour begets the Violet Crown, the Crescent moonlights as an old-school galleria, packed with people strolling, eating, drinking, shopping, and socializing. It’s reminiscent of a Mexican plaza, but it’s the closest thing you’ll find to an Asian food court in central River City (head up to Lakeline to cry in H Mart).
It’s anchored by 99 Ranch Market, a California chain that has the deepest, most interesting selection of edible animal cuts, both living and dead, around. Teeming tanks of live geoduck clams, sea snails, and blue crabs clack about waiting to be noodled and bagged at the exceptional seafood counter, which also offers complimentary cleaning and frying for any fish, or a free steam bath for your new pet lobster.
The theme continues along the back wall, where you can find pork stomach, duck feet, and chicken paw, just to scratch the surface. The produce section is super fresh, with a tantalizing selection of less common herbs and veggies, as well as economical crates of fresh mangoes.
The front of house has prepared food galore, starting with BF Bakery’s cheese puff milk butter and corn and pork sung, which pair well with the fresh fruit “chillers,” like iced pineapple lemonade and kiwi pineapple slush, doled out at adjacent Fruitealicious.
There’s a hot bar with dim sum, roast duck, and various tofu and meat dishes served cafeteria style, but in my experience, you’re better off time- and quality-wise pulling from the lonely hot case to its right, where you can grab a prepared roasted duck combo, chicken bento, grilled unagi bowl, BBQ pork combo, or today’s special – on a recent visit, Golden Soup Sauerkraut Fish (swai fillet, sauerkraut, and oyster sauce bathed in salty, cornstarch gloop) – on the quick. Super tasty, but the copious amount of plastic left over from this delicious, affordable lunch is apocalyptic, and there’s no recycling in sight or on-site, so plan to take your trash home.
99 Ranch Market has the deepest, most interesting selection of edible animal cuts, both living and dead, around.
Next door, the Kinokuniya Japanese bookstore stocks expensive imported tchotchkes like $13 magnets and $29 Miffy tote bags, but if you’re in the market for a Hello Kitty pen case, the book series My New Boss Is Goofy, a crisp copy of the I Ching, or an adult closet stocked with hentai manga, erotica/literature, and comix – the cat beckons.
The conveyor belts at Kura Revolving Sushi Bar cycle faster than Jupiter’s Metis – highlighted by upscale selections like umami oil Hokkai octopus and seared southern bluefin toro, but lowlighted by wagyu nigiri, edamame, and a sad plate of watermelon chunks – and that’s just the lower belt.
If you order off the electronic tablet at your seat, the food is made to order, and comes careening to your seat like an asteroid on the upper belt, the best value being their freshly made hand rolls and a cold sake – in a bamboo box – or beer.
They also offer ramen and udon soups and Ojyu boxes with beef or tempura, and eating 25 plates gets you a “connectable acrylic charm” in various forms including hot green tea, tonkotsu ramen, tuna nigiri, and taiyaki ice cream.
Soupleaf Hot Pot has a similarly gluttonous approach with a sign hanging outside that says, “Just the Dip” – which would have been a way better name. Never been here, or to any hot pot for that matter, and the waiter speaks the truth: “99% of what you need to know is that today, you’ll be cooking it yourself.”
He points to the Golden Corral-y buffet on the other side of the room and instructs me to load up on seafood, fishcake, fish balls, veggies, noodles, and sauces, come back, and dunk it in the hot pot, because with few exceptions, everything on the bar is frozen solid.
Upon my return, a boiling cauldron of broth is nested in the table. I chose mala because it’s spicy, but you can also opt for tonkotsu, tom yum, shiitake, or miso dashi – and have it changed out mid-meal. But after dumping a bunch of stuff into the brew, there’s no way to tell when it’s cooked, and the first shrimp ball comes out like Saturn’s Enceladus, with an icy core.
The waiter can tell it’s amateur hour at Table 8 and drops a placard with estimated cook times for each item. Helpful, but it’s too late, because everything – thinly sliced angus toro, pork jowl, enoki mushrooms, chicken breast skewers, quail eggs, shrimp, noodles, and greens – is already swimming in the broth.
Like the revolving sushi concept, it’s hard to know you’re full, and in this case, when you should leave, but in an effort to avoid food waste – and their surcharge for abandoned food – I loosen my lower belt and eat everything at the table.
Feeling fat, I’m reminded of my imagined portion-control restaurant called All You Should Eat, then realize I paid twice as much as I normally do for a bowl of spicy Asian noodle soup – one I had to prepare myself.
Tori – a gift shop with all manner of cute stuffies, stickers, stationery, pens, hair clips, books, and media related to K-pop, anime, and kawaii – feeds the golden boy inside you, but if you pair a soda pop with the new Flaming Hot Cheetos Korean corn dog at Oh K-Dog and Egg Toast, consider your demons hunted.
Bun Belly – an ATX original – serves glampy Vietnamese. Consider diving into their salt and pepper shrimp, grilled pork spring rolls, spicy soft-shell crab bao, turmeric garlic rice, crispy pork belly, and shaken beef (Bò Lúc Lắc), which are all quality.
Snow Ball Rice Ball goes full Ligma, offering bingsu (frozen water) – a heaping milk-based shaved ice dessert with sweet toppings like fruit, condensed milk, syrup, and red beans – in flavors ranging from blueberry to Oreo, as well as a killer selection of fresh onigiri, in tasty flavors like fried chicken, spicy tuna, grilled salmon, and soft-shell crab. Remarkably good because they’re made to order – never cold – and it makes all the difference.
Before heading back to the car, my buddy buys a mango boba tea for his kiddo, quickly discerns it’s sweeter than a Moon Pie.
But whether coming or going, be advised the Crescent’s parking lot is a concrete croissant that folds in on itself with narrow aisles that flow both directions, and the ingress/egress borders on the inconceivable. On weekend nights, consider parking in the empty lot just the north of the mall, or taking the Red Line to Crestview Station.
Editor’s note: Unfortunately, the author’s description of animal products for sale at 99 Ranch accidentally reinforced certain stereotypes – not at all his intent. In the Strip Club series, the author regularly writes with an irreverence that in this instance came off to many readers as culturally insensitive. The Chronicle has updated the story and regrets any offense.
The Crescent
6929 Airport Blvd.
This article appears in October 17 • 2025.