Don’t let the ambiguous name throw you off: although the menu at Lee’s hops around a few countries, it does so in a responsible, Sir David Attenborough kind of way. This isn’t fusion, and although the menu may range from Thai curry to lo mein, there’s at least some coherence to each dish taken individually; the flavors generally all belong on the same page.

The seven-flavor beef here is legendary: it’s complex, as if the kitchen distilled the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle into recipe form, and it’s somehow simultaneously sweet, sour, salty, and smoky. The beef chunks are really tender, and crushed peanuts provide a textural contrast. Some vegetables fare just as well. Green beans in garlic sauce are a pretty bad-ass iteration of the Chinese classic: the beans are tender, shockingly verdant, charred a little here and there, and doused in a sweet, smoky sauce with lots of chunks of soft roasted garlic. Other veggies aren’t as lucky; you’ll have to stave off your baby bok choy cravings—and who doesn’t have those all of the time?—because they’re at risk of coming out as vegetable leather.

Interior-wise, Lee’s just feels like a nondescript Asian restaurant—it would get lost in the shuffle in the I.D.—but the lighting is a bit softer and it’s a little homier than some of its more utilitarian cousins.