Gering’s Tea Garden hardly recommends itself, at least from street level.

The restaurant resides on a dreary stretch of 10th Street pocked by corrugated metal shops, unpaved, rutted parking lots and dated workaday structures. Across the way sits an abandoned Mexican place. The marquee out front promises chicken fried steak. And some locals insist Tea Garden serves the city’s best biscuits and gravy.

OK, so the setting can’t be helped. But short order Americana is not what you necessarily want from a Chinese kitchen.

The restaurant begins to unveil its promising side once you step inside. Although wrapped in a former County Kitchen shell, the décor reflects a combination of small town comfort and urban sophistication—neither snooty nor frayed, with just enough Asian accent to justify a menu tilted toward familiar Chinese and Thai dishes.

Still, cashew chicken, garlic shrimp and Pad Thai hardly dispel one’s fears of buffet and chicken fried mediocrity.

Wait staff not only treat guests with the requisite pleasantries, they also treat them as, well, guests. One evening I watched a staff member rush—run, actually—from the bar area to the door in order to help an elderly woman with a walker leave the place gracefully. There’s no weary complacency.

Tea Garden reveals its full virtue on the plate.

Those familiar dishes glisten with sauce and crisp vegetables. Giveaways like egg drop soup contain chunks of carrot and cucumber in a rich broth flavored by chicken stock. Where so many Chinese restaurants serve a mucilaginous version, Tea Garden’s egg drop feels dense and warm.

Their gyoza ventures from the commercial norm by including vegetable slivers in the filling—a traditional touch. Although the soy dipping sauce flares with brackish, razor sharp edges, these dull a bit against the pan seared dumplings.

What truly sets Tea Garden apart from most venues in the panhandle, however, is the inclusion of several duck dishes on the menu. My order featured the game meat in a thick, sharp and beefy sauce that almost obscured the bird’s earthy savor. But for bits of skin and thin layers of fat, it would be easy to mistake one for the other. Broccoli and other vegetables retain their firm snap, suggesting a quick stir fry.

Now, I can’t vouch for their Texas roadhouse fare, as I prefer to order from the Asian side.

As a Chinese restaurant, though, I believe Tea Garden may surpass Wonderful House in quality, if not popularity.