DRINKING & DINING
BEST FOR: A FIRST DATE
Chai Wu
F
ollowing on from simulacra, hidden on the fifth
floor of Harrods in an urban sportswear room is
a Chinese restaurant called Chai Wu. This may
sound like a reverse-Narnia manoeuvre, a move in which
locals leave a fantastical Belgravia for the tawdry charms
of commercialism. However, the thoughts not only a
dismal one but incorrect up here.
A large wooden faade hides a cosy room that packs
90 covers; it is a schmaltzy riff on a Shanghai den. Think
lustrous marble and bright lights puncturing a dark and oaky
room. Immersed in its cavity, few clues give it away that
youre in the heart of what is ultimately a shopping centre.
Inside its groovy but in a manner that is quite the
opposite of Austin Powers. Its all about the microsalads
and tuna-belly rolls; it even has a menu that is based on
the five elements of Chinese philosophy (as opposed to,
say, the pre-Socratic five elements) and waiters offer pearls
of Confucian, sometimes Taoist, wisdom to those who
care to ask. Actually I made that bit up. The new year has
just fallen; its the Year of the Sheep. I pity anybody born
in such a year (a time that apparently makes them shy,
022
indecisive and weak-willed) who tries to tackle this menu.
That said, the food does blow your socks off, or at
the very least forms a delightful breeze around the elastic.
Snooty types may scorn the wanton use of caviar, goldleaf and truffle on the dim sum; they may sneer at the dryice smoke that enrobes the sashimi platter; and they will
certainly scoff at the melting globe of chocolate that had
cocooned a block of vanilla ice cream. These people have
no soul. Or at least were never four years old.
That it all does work comes as no surprise when
you hear that its part of Eddie Lims restaurant group
(which owns our local Mango Tree) and is overseen by
Ian Pengelley, the man who brought the delights of E&O
to Notting Hill before Id even left school.
Thats not to say the place doesnt have its own
idiosyncratic set of follies. First, the menu often strays
into silly-money territory (400 for two with wine is a
lot). Second, it runs risks conflating luxury ingredients
with peerless cooking. Finally, a closing time of 8pm
will surely cut the restaurant off from a large portion
of potential custom. That said, however, if money is an
abstract notion to you, and the filly on your arm wants a
surprise, take her to this Willy-Wonkerish house of panAsian wonders just remember to eat quickly.
87-135 Brompton Road, 020 3819 8888 ([Link])
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