What makes Qi immediately stand out from its competitors is that it’s a dark and moody space, as opposed to a bright and boisterous Chinese-style banquet hall. You’re expecting sophisticated patrons here, and not families with crying babies at the table. Another thing that sets this new resto apart is that it’s not wholeheartedly Sichuan—the menu covers everything from the standard mala dishes to sweet and sour fish and even Kung Pao chicken. We recommend coming with a group to share the generously sized dishes, most of which are meant for sharing.
OK, so we’re a bit disappointed that Sijie’s new location feels more like a proper restaurant now than a no-frills private kitchen. The strong air-con blasting from up-top, forcing all of us to keep our jackets on during the meal, didn’t help either. But the quality of the dishes and the hospitality of the waitstaff haven’t changed since their good ol’ days on Lockhart Road, and that, at the end of the day, is what matters.
Grand wooden doors with stained glass windows; pretty lanterns flanking the entrance; and a giant calligraphy-stamped sign with the restaurant’s Chinese name front and center gave us a pretty solid impression of Red Almond at first glance.
But this new establishment by Aqua group offers more than just pretty décor—the food is stellar, too. As proper Sichuan spice whores, we ordered everything from cold appetizers like spicy green peas and chili beef to sizzling hot mains such as ma po tofu, dan dan noodles and kung pow prawns.
Grand wooden doors with stained glass windows; pretty lanterns flanking the entrance; and a giant calligraphy-stamped sign with the restaurant’s Chinese name front and center gave us a pretty solid impression of Red Almond at first glance.
Located street-level in an old-fashioned housing block not far from Elements mall, this bare-bones place may not look like much, but—as the news articles in the windows and the patient queues outside can attest—it is in fact one of the best (not to mention cheapest) places in town for Sichuan casserole chicken hotpot.
Located street-level in an old-fashioned housing block not far from Elements mall, this bare-bones place may not look like much, but—as the news articles in the windows and the patient queues outside can attest—it is in fact one of the best (not to mention cheapest) places in town for Sichuan casserole chicken hotpot.
A no-frills but friendly and inviting private kitchen, Yu Chuan serves astonishingly good food, and you certainly get your money’s worth. We selected a few dishes from the small menu, including our favorites: spicy cold noodles and chili prawns—the former fresh, chewy and richly seasoned, the latter fried with heaps of chilies and so wonderfully spicy and flavorful that we happily chewed through the intense heat. Oily, stodgy Sichuan food is a little heavy when the temperature’s high, but just right when you need a supremely satisfying, warming meal.
A no-frills but friendly and inviting private kitchen, Yu Chuan serves astonishingly good food, and you certainly get your money’s worth. We selected a few dishes from the small menu, including our favorites: spicy cold noodles and chili prawns—the former fresh, chewy and richly seasoned, the latter fried with heaps of chilies and so wonderfully spicy and flavorful that we happily chewed through the intense heat. Oily, stodgy Sichuan food is a little heavy when the temperature’s high, but just right when you need a supremely satisfying, warming meal.
Fagara is an educational experience. Sichuan cuisine has long been inextricably linked to spicy, fiery onslaughts. Head chef Robert Wong reminds us that this generalization doesn’t capture the full diversity of the cooking style. He offers some deeper culinary insight into the three taste sensations known as “Ma,” “La,” and “Tang.” Your journey at Fagara should begin with soothing, tastebud-opening Tang dishes, followed by numbing Ma dishes, and finish with hot, climatic La dishes.
Fagara is an educational experience. Sichuan cuisine has long been inextricably linked to spicy, fiery onslaughts. Head chef Robert Wong reminds us that this generalization doesn’t capture the full diversity of the cooking style. He offers some deeper culinary insight into the three taste sensations known as “Ma,” “La,” and “Tang.” Your journey at Fagara should begin with soothing, tastebud-opening Tang dishes, followed by numbing Ma dishes, and finish with hot, climatic La dishes. These are wonderful contrasts, accentuated even further by spices imported directly from Sichuan. The Dungeness crab and the chili wontons are unbelievable.
Spicy Mama is located on the quieter end of Temple Street, away from the throngs of tourists, dai pai dongs and flea market stalls that give the street such fame. But its feisty little storefront, with bright yellow panels and glowing red characters, shouts for attention all the same. (The place is pretty hard to miss.)
We walked by this streetfront resto and saw one patron inside amidst a bunch of empty tables—not a good sign for any eatery, and especially not during lunch hour. But we were craving spice so we decided to sit down and brave it anyway. Here, you can make your own dishes by choosing different kinds of noodles, toppings and soup bases, and we went for a medium-spicy bowl of Sichuan-style mala oily noodles topped with sausages and lettuce. A generously sized bowl arrived minutes later, filled to the brim with a pale colored broth dotted with red chili oil.
We like it here. It’s a calm and soothing contrast to the hustle and bustle of Causeway Bay, with a bright and cheerful interior thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows all along one side. We settle for He Jiang’s lunch menu, which comes with a soup, a starter and a main plus a bowl of rice. And because we’re craving starch today, we also order an extra bowl of dan dan noodles. We’re happy about the pork terrine and the snow vegetables with squid and soybean for starters; both are served chilled in dainty blue porcelain bowls.
Spicy, spicy, spicy—don’t expect anything else from Ba Shu Feng, which is famous for serving authentic, home-style Sichuan cuisine. The chain, first opened in 1998, now has six restaurants all over Shenzhen, and we visited its Luohu branch. This spacious venue is decorated like a small Sichuan village. We sat down under a big artificial tree and ordered the classic noodles with a sauce of pork bits and Zhong dumplings—both came in small portions, were incredibly cheap and proved perfect for warming up the stomach.
