I eat at Old China Cafe, on the recommendation of my Malaysian colleague. The booklet was also positive about it. It is indeed a cozy little brown restaurant with old pictures of Malaysia on the wall, just around the corner from the hectic Petaling Street. It is smaller than it appeared to me in the pictures. I ask for a table for one. The man points out a table. But he has yet to clean it if I will be patient. Indeed, it looks like a proverbial bomb has exploded at that table. A small toddler (the high chair is still there) has really managed to make an unimaginable mess. The high chair is buried under the mess.