New & Noted: Da Dong Roast Duck Restaurant

Da Dong’s claim to fame is Peking duck, a dish that has a culinary history stretching back to the Yuan Dynasty, but the restaurant serves fare from the front lines of modern Chinese cuisine. An evolving Beijing institution since 1985, Da Dong’s celebrated reputation has preceded its opening in Shanghai. A week after opening, diners were already queuing for hours (with the help of complimentary boxed wine) for a taste of China’s culinary future.

 

One peek at the restaurant’s 160-plus page menu and you’ll see why it’s worth the wait. Instead of the slapdash dishes thrown straight from wok to table, Da Dong creates edible works of art, plated as much for photoshoots as they are for eating. Of course the main event is the duck – just check out the three brick kilns in the centre of the dining room that serve as both kitchen and entertainment – but Chef Dong Zhenxiang is more than a one trick pony. The celebrity chef regularly travels abroad, cooking alongside world famous chefs in Michelin-starred restaurants and picking up inspiration for fusion dishes like roasted duck skin topped with black caviar (RMB 80), lobster noodles with Beijing bean paste (RMB 238) and soy braised foie gras (RMB 98/147/196).

 

Even the famous ducks are updated for modern palates. Da Dong roasts their birds for 20 minutes longer than the traditional recipe; a culinary trick that sets it apart from other birds of a feather by melting the fat into the embers resulting in a leaner, crispier frame. While Da Dong’s duck may be lower in calories, the flavour is at full strength, and the finished product is amazingly grease-less while still exuding succulent richness.

 

Carved tableside with the precision and artistic flair of a master sculptor, the duck (RMB 268) is served with a compartmentalised platter of condiments and accoutrements (RMB 8 per person). Dip the delicate, golden skin in granulated sugar, and both will melt on your tongue. Dark meat rimmed with a layer of fat holds up to the robust bean paste, a succulent combination that wraps up with scallions and cucumber in steamed wheat pancakes for a bite worthy of an emperor. On our visit, the traditional julienned radish was replaced with hami melon, a sweet twist that plays well with the gamey meat.

 

The rest of the menu is a nod to the country’s varied cuisines, with Chef Dong utilising what he calls a “vast

China” cooking concept that incorporates elevated flavours and techniques into traditional regional dishes. Gone are the simple days of garlic and green onions tossed with soy sauce fried rice (RMB 28); instead caperberries and mint mingle with crisp baby green peas in his updated classic. Crowned with sprigs of rosemary, Beijing’s famous braised eggplant (RMB 46/69) absorbs its musky flavour from whole heads of garlic and star anise. Nests of zhajiang mian (RMB 18) tangled with fava beans are tossed tableside with two flavours: traditional salty bean paste and marinated lurou pork. The meal ends with a simple plate of green jujubes enrobed in wisps of smoke - courtesy of a bed of dry ice.

 

It’s all very flashy chic, with a neon blue dining room that feels more like the Lido deck of a 1980s cruise ship than one of China’s most cutting edge 21st century restaurants. But it’s a decadent and delicious dinner fit for table selfies and Instagram photos marked #foodporn, and there’s nothing more modern China than that.