Hunan, back with a wow

When a restaurant closes for eight months, two things are generally true. The first is that it's toast, a goner, fini. The second is that it reopens, but, oops, too late: Its crowd has moved on; there are plenty of other fish in the sea.

This is what makes Hunan, the Main Line fixture since 1973, particularly triumphant. Not only has it opened again after its eight-month hiatus (caused by a Peking duck that overheated the oven, drawing the attention of fire officials to the need for a host of fire-code updates), but its loyal fan base has resolutely returned, embracing their touchstone - welcoming back the Foo family, E-Ni and Betty (yes, he's Susanna Foo's brother-in-law), gifting them with bouquets of flowers, bottles of wine - and hugs.

This is what you earn when night after night, decade after decade, you personally (lovingly?) greet and accommodate your guests, and double-check bags of takeout; ours has reliably been Hunan's hot and sour soup, which is the best I've ever had, garlic broccoli, and a perfect, mild-mannered mu shu chicken with pancakes and plum sauce.

This is the payback for standing up to near-death redevelopment schemes and stiff Chinese-eatery competition with grit and grace.

Old customers stalked the place during its renovation. If they'd see lights on at night, they'd stop to peek in. But few were prepared for the unwrapping: What had been a staid, colorless room had been transformed by a designer (another customer), its new walls of cultured stone alternating with bold crimson and gold stripes, and track lighting sparking things up. On another wall, in silvery calligraphy, is the Poem of Red Cliff (A.D. 1082): "Life is short as a dream . . . ."

Whew, the food has come back the way I remember and love it. The hot and sour soup, cleanly brothy and gently tangy - not the abomination served in most Chinatown spots. (The two cooks who have been with the Foos forever are back at wok.)