Welcome back to the Strip Club, highlighting Austin’s destination strip malls. Where else can you sip a smoky Old Fashioned in Misty Gray colored contacts? Play Kelp: Shark vs Octopus while simultaneously eating octopus balls and dissecting a squid-shaped fishing lure? Skim the scum off your soup pot for a clearer view of “Live Noodz”!?! The moon is in your eye, but there’s no-a pizza pie, it’s the Crescent!
(Editor’s Note: This is the second installment in a two-part series on the Crescent.)
Lucky enough to live within trekking distance of the Red Line, an executive decision is made to circumvent the Crescent’s cluster of a parking lot: Take the light rail to Crestview station, and walk from there. It’s a slow ride where you can take it easy, but sadly, our local train has the same lingering aftertaste of pointlessness one gets from recycling trash.
Alighting and crossing Lamar from the stop isn’t super titillating, but Sazan’s fake-neon sign advertising “LIVE NOODZ” keeps me abreast. Once inside, everyone still has their top on, so it’s time to liven this place up by nursing a Shun-sational Old Fashioned – with Bulleit Rye, plum wine simple syrup, charred orange, and bitters – a concoction served in a highball glass with a lid that traps woody smoke inside. Exotic and tasty, but still no barenaked ladies – which is fine by me, because if you’ve ever been to a nudist beach, you know they’re mostly a bust.
But this isn’t a strip club, it’s a strip mall ramen joint where you can choose between Paitan, black, or vegan (plus a coterie of supplements), alongside starters like dumplings, takoyaki (battered octopus balls), wings, and tempura, plus seasonal items like katsu curry, mazemen (dried ramen bowl), and teriyaki chicken.
Rocking their $14 lunch special is a solid plan – though kinda rando – because it’s a small ramen, a bowl of wings and fries, and a drink. If it’s after 4:59pm, consider their $39 Omakase tasting menu with four hand rolls and a Paitan ramen, with optional ultra-rare Japanese whisky pairings – limited seating every evening but Monday. Great value, especially if you pair it with their kids-eat-free-ramen Tuesday.
Sazan’s hand-rolled potstickers are made by Steamies, a delightful hole-in-the-wall a few doors down. Chef Preston Day, of Japanese/Chinese/Hawaiian descent, took over Steamies a few years ago and now offers nationwide delivery for their frozen dumplings.
The flavor of the month is firecracker shrimp with coconut lime sauce, and they’re spectacular alongside an assortment of other dumplings (chicken and shiitake, pork and cabbage, vegan), an order of xiǎo lóng bāo (soup dumplings), a stir fry vegetable rice bowl, and the star of the show, their Taiwanese beef taco – slow-cooked brisket and slaw inside a crispy scallion pancake, which is a delectable, over-the-top-savory slop fest.
For dessert, go next door, where Uncle Tetsu slings Japanese cheesecake. With branches as far-flung as Pakistan and Australia, these lovely rondelles present in delightful flavors such as pandan coconut, ube, strawberry, cookies n’ cream, and matcha. Fluffy, and not too sweet.
The Crescent can be a lot of walking, so Footy Rooty’s “30 mins Foot” for $25 is the play before diving into Korean chicken wings at bb.q Chicken, which has them in umpteen flavors including gang-jeong, galbi, and Gangnam Style, plus appropriate sides galore and a beer/soju selection.
There are several Japanese bric-a-bracs scattered around: Pinkbox gift shop has aisles of imported beauty care products, colored contact lenses, Labubus, Pocky, and exotic Pringles in flavors like roasted seaweed, tomato, cucumber, and black pepper steak, while Ellicor also has all the cutie-patootie stuff you can imagine. But Daiso is the place where you can, as the sign says, “Upgrade Your Life” with a squid fishing lure, a container of crispy crab snacks, or a Scum-Absorbing Sheet for your soup pot, which will come in handy at recently opened B2J Tasty Pot, whose brochures advertise the “Best Pot in the World.” Been there, done that, but this is a dispensary for gigantic bowls of suan cai yu, a Sichuan sauerkraut fish and beef with pickled mustard greens.
Opting for the “Combo for 2” with a “small” bowl of Signature Spicy Sour Flavor, two add-ons (black fungus, A-choy leaf), two side dishes (pickled chicken gizzard, crispy fried pork belly), and rice is sure to satisfy, because it’s a bonkers amount of food, and love at first bite as tender fish and beef bathe in spicy ferment. But it’s the cold gizzards – doing salad cosplay dressed in red onion, cilantro, and chili oil – that transport diners to Chengdu. Mǎidān.
Complicating the chaotic scene in the parking lot are concrete islands housing snacky, drinky outfits 85° C Bakery Café, Starbucks, and Milk + Tea, but the main event on the archipelago is K BBQ.
Akin to the DIY vibes at Soupleaf Hot Pot last week, these tables have grills built into them. My problem isn’t so much cooking it myself as the pricey all-you-can-eat option. For that kind of money, my wallet wants full service and not eating myself sick to get my money’s worth.
Thankfully, there are also plenty of amply portioned entrees available like bibimbap, galbi-jjim (short ribs), seafood jjampong (spicy noodle soup), doganitang (ox knee bone soup), and my personal favorite, jjajangmyeon (black bean noodles).
Trying to make up my mind, lots of waitstaff in black T-shirts are swirling, pushing carts of banchan around, seeming oddly expectant: How much will he eat? All he can? They seem disappointed when the upsell goes unaccepted, and a spicy pork bento is summoned, but guess what? It’s still more than any person should eat in one sitting.
A huge pile of tender pork in sweet, spicy gochujang leads the way alongside a variety of sides: white rice, potstickers, japchae, kimchi, miso soup, and an incongruous serving of chopped lettuce topped with ranch dressing, which transports me not to Seoul, but to the truck stop cafe near my grandparents’, um, ranch. Up there, folks eat salad with forks, but today my only readily available option is chopsticks. Awkward, but eventually the ranch makes its way into my hidden valley.
By the time the sides are waxed off, the moon is full, and most of my pork and rice remain. Carrying the leftovers home, the empty train provides ample space-time for the mind to wander: What if we banned all-you-can-eat buffets and fed the poor? What if we actually utilized our mass-transit system? Or stopped buying branded plastic junk from China? Big questions without easy answers.
The Crescent
6929 Airport Blvd.
This article appears in October 24 • 2025.