China Club – Hong Kong – It’s Proper Posh

Sir David Tang opened China Club Hong Kong on 30th June 1991 on the top three floors of the well respected Old Bank of China Building in Central Hong Kong. It’s a portal straight back to the opulent, smoke-filled, high-society decadence of 1930s and 1940s Shanghai. Perched on the top three floors of the iconic Old Bank of China Building, it’s a spectacle of dark woods, gilded chandeliers, and walls drowning in priceless art. Every inch screams old-money elegance – think vintage fans spinning lazily above deep mahogany tables, the air thick with nostalgia and power. This is a place where deals are made over dim sum and dark pu erh tea.. But let’s talk about our entrance – or rather, our near ejection. Reservations? Check. Dress code? Apparently not. We strutted in wearing shorts, T-shirts, and polo necks, blissfully unaware that this was tantamount to rocking up to a royal banquet in flip-flops. Gulps. Raised eyebrows. Side-eye so sharp it could slice a Peking duck. The front-of-house host didn’t just disapprove – she looked like she had seen the end of civilisation. After she picked up her eyeballs off the floor, she immediately scurried off to the side to consult with her manager, who gave us a strained nod to entry. This was caveated by having to wear trousers, and suit jackets rummaged out of their closet for naughty boys like us. The oversized ill-fitting clobber clearly hadn’t been cleaned in a while either judging by the caked on staines but we were in. Phew!

Douche bags with crusty jackets that didn’t belong to them. 

So onto the food… All of the positive things you wanted in pork belly were here from the delicate interplay of fat vs protein. Biting into the crispy skin, gave a triple crunch that ricochet’d into the nooks of my mouth. 

The same could be said for their char siu pork which had the perfect amount of sweet against savoury. No one was too polite to dig into this one.

In the background were the yam croquettes which were on point too, crispy and molten hot from the frier, with a balanced filling full of umami notes.

Har-gau is a classic go to for me and why shouldn’t it be? A translucent pastry meant for a good view of those succulent pert prawns which were mighty fresh and were joyous things to eat.

Shanghai dumplings or XLB (that would be xiao long bao) came with their own little baskets, the trick is to eat them whilst they’ve cooled slightly, but not too cool and to do so without rupturing the delicate silken skins so the delectable soup stays inside – where it should be. What works for me is to gently pick up the dumpling from where it’s been pleated – the most sturdy part and then straight into my greedy mouth which is ready for the soupy burst of luscious flavour.

Siu-mai dumplings were deceptive, on top was pure minced pork crowned with a goji berry and on the base was a whole hidden prawn. Nice work.

Chai-siu bao – a must have, and they do it well here. The filling was mighty in the pillowy exterior.

Char-siu puff pastries had the richness of the shortest crumbly pastry that enrobes the same filling as the char-siu bao, which wasn’t a bad thing at all. They were inhaled.