Chi Cafe
Well-designed and bright, with mod orange and lime green accents, Chi Cafe has a spotless glassed-in kitchen and friendly, casually uniformed servers. The food tends toward the veggie-dominated Hong Kong style, with selections like wood ear mushrooms and okra, pea tips with garlic, and our favorite, Chinese chives with special sauce, a delicate stack of greens with jalapeños. The menu packs hundreds of options, including pedestrian faves like General Tso’s and orange chicken, but there’s plenty of edgier fare like pig’s stomach, sizzling intestine, and duck’s tongue with fresh mushrooms. Jellyfish with a beef hind shank hinting of star anise was a simple surf-and-turf study in contrasts, and like the congee and soups, seasoned with great restraint. In fact, even in the case of dishes labeled “hot and spicy” the heat seems dialed down, though ingredients are fresh, preparations capable, and prices very reasonable—several “special snacks” including curried fish balls and boiled kidneys are in the $4 range. —David Hammond
Double Li is named for chef-owners owners Ben Li and Wan Cai Li, but for fans of Szechuan cuisine it also signifies that we’ve doubled our options for mouth-tingling, authentically aggressive specialties from the region. Here are Szechuan dumplings, delectably cartilaginous pig’s ear, and—my favorite Double Li starter—Szechuan tripe with finely minced celery as a textural counterpoint. Fish in chile broth is terrific, the fillet meltingly tender and the chile oil hot enough to start one thinking of the firehouse a few doors east. Or try the intense lamb hot pot seasoned with cumin, a one-two punch of fragrance and flavor. Crisp-edged dry chile chicken is engaging, but it’s black pepper-garlic beef that’s quickly becoming a signature dish. To get the authentic stuff ask for the translated Szechuan menu. —Gary Wiviott
Dragon Court is a Cantonese restaurant decorated with aquarium tanks of lobster, crab, and the astonishingly ugly monkfish. It’s on the farther-than-you’d-like-to-walk-in-the-cold side of Wentworth, out on the edge of the expressway, which may explain why it gets too little praise for its excellent menu. The locals know about it, though: on a harsh, snowy night, the dining room was full. Aided by an attentive staff of abashed young Chinese men, we feasted on garlic-dusted crispy chicken, pork with bok choy and taro root, and a perfectly fried fish and tofu stew. We concluded with a truly terrific lamb and watercress hot pot spiced with star anise. —Nicholas Day
One of the spiffier restaurants on the Chinatown strip, Emperor’s Choice brings to mind Calvin Trillin’s inverse ambience theory of Chinese restaurants; thankfully, it’s the exception that proves the rule. Familiar classics are solid here: crisp, meat-filled pot stickers, a lively orange beef with good-quality bone-in meat, a wonton soup vibrant with a rich stock and shrimp-filled dumplings. Seafood is a particular strength, especially plump salt-and-pepper shrimp, Cantonese shell-on lobster, clams with black bean sauce, and whole fish preparations plus a rotating list of specials such as salt-and-pepper soft-shell crab and delicate fresh scallops served on the half shell. Szechuan string beans and mildly spicy Shanghai noodles make for a smooth segue to the more adventurous menu items such as jellyfish and succulent pork belly with preserved greens. —Gary Wiviott
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Not in the mood to navigate the 300-item menu at this Cantonese stalwart, I asked for a sampling of the restaurant’s best. Out came tofu and seafood soup chock-full of shrimp, squid, scallops, tofu, straw mushrooms, and a healthy dose of fresh ginger. Mongolian beef, walnut shrimp, sizzling sea bass, and pea pod leaves with fried soft tofu followed. (I wasn’t dining alone.) A sweet tooth’s dream, the walnut shrimp are fried and coated in sweet mayonnaise; the walnuts are candied and glorious. Given its richness, it’s a dish best enjoyed in small doses. When the sea bass, also fried, came to the table I was instructed to ladle it with a sauce of soy and garlic to create its namesake sizzle. No sizzle. But that didn’t detract from the meltingly tender fish. —Peter Tyksinski
