Restaurant Review: Sky High and Loving It: Terrace Boulud Has Entered the Chat - and It's Not Leaving

DB x MO Dim Sum (1)

Right. Let me just say this upfront: I went to the media tasting at Terrace Boulud expecting, well, a media tasting. You know the drill. A few canapes, a bit of bubbly, someone hands you a press release thicker than a Tolstoy novel, you smile at the PRs, you smile at the chef, everyone smiles at everyone else, and you go home. Standard.

What I did NOT expect was to walk into what is essentially the most glamorous open-air living room in Hong Kong and find myself surrounded by what appeared to be the entire Central business district having the time of its life on a Tuesday. CEOs? Check. Heads of banks - plural - doing that thing where they pretend they're just casually having lunch but their Brioni suits suggest otherwise? Check. The fashion industry contingent, impeccably turned out, doing that impossible thing where they look both effortless and expensive? Also check. Suits, gloriously expensive suits, everywhere. It was a media tasting that looked more like the lunch scene from a very well-funded but poorly executed Netflix drama. The kind where everyone has cheekbones and nobody discusses their salary out loud but you just... know.

And this, right here, is the thing about Terrace Boulud. It hasn't even been open that long and it's already become the place to be seen. The one where Hong Kong's moneyed, connected, and frankly-rather-fabulous choose to be seen. And honestly? Standing on that rooftop above Landmark Prince's, with the glittering geometry of Kowloon's skyline across the harbour and the towers of TST shimmering in the distance, you understand immediately why. The view is, without a hint of exaggeration, one of the best in this city. And this is a city that takes its views seriously. The drama of Hong Kong Island's skyscrapers on one side, the sweep toward TST and beyond on the other - it's the kind of sight that makes you put your fork down mid-bite just to stare. Briefly. Because then the food arrives and priorities reset.

Because oh, the food. The food!

Daniel Boulud, the man behind some of the most celebrated restaurants in New York and beyond, has brought his whole French brasserie heart to this rooftop, and Executive Chef Aurelie Altemaire is running the kitchen with what can only be described as joyful precision. The menu is guided by what Boulud calls his four culinary muses: La Tradition, La Saison, Le Potager, Le Voyage. And then - and this is the bit that makes Terrace Boulud genuinely singular - Hong Kong gets to be the fifth muse. Not a footnote. A muse.

That fifth muse shows up in the DB x MO Dim Sum, a daily-changing selection created exclusively for this restaurant, existing nowhere else in the entire Boulud restaurant group. We had, among others, the Hong Kong shrimp har gow - and calling this a har gow almost feels reductive. Plump, delicate, steamed to a translucent silk, served with a house XO sauce that has enough umami depth to make you briefly reconsider everything you thought you knew about dipping sauce. Then the Lyon xiaolongbao - pig collar and truffle, the whole thing a nod to the legendary truffle soup of Paul Bocuse, reimagined as a soup dumpling. You bite in, the broth releases, and somewhere in Lyon a ghost is nodding approvingly. The Bangkok shu mai brings lemongrass and chilli and fresh herbs into a wrapper tinted faintly green, juicy and aromatic, the kind of thing that makes you reach for a second before you've finished the first. These dim sum are not fusion for fusion's sake. They are genuinely thoughtful, technically accomplished, and utterly delicious. Yummmm doesn't quite cover it but: Yummmm.

The set lunch  - Menu Déjeuner, available daily - is the kind of menu a proper brasserie should have. The Bisque Tomatée, a tomato and lobster soup crowned with a lobster-stuffed zucchini flower, is precise and deeply satisfying; it tastes expensive in the best possible way, the kind of dish you'd order twice if the rest of the menu weren't equally compelling. The Crispy Risotto with reblochon emulsion and green asparagus is, quietly, one of the most impressive things I've eaten this year - it shouldn't work as well as it does, the crisp giving way to the creamy with an elegance that feels almost architectural. King Salmon poached in champagne sauce with smoked salmon roe is the kind of dish that sounds almost simple until you eat it and realise nothing about this is simple.

For the meat contingent: the Australian Angus Cube Roll with French fries and pepper sauce is a brasserie classic done with full conviction, and the Snake River Farm Pork Tenderloin with sauce diable has a sauce so well-judged you'll want to ask for bread just to chase it around the plate. The Truffle Mash, listed as a side, has apparently already become the kitchen's most-requested extra. Try it and you'll understand why. The truffle is present but not shouty; the mash itself is pillow-like and dangerously good.

Then there is the duck. The Canard | Orange - a riff on the eternal Canard à l'Orange - arrives from locally sourced duck dry-aged for up to fourteen days, roasted on the bone, finished with a honey and spice glaze that combines cinnamon, cumin, Sichuan pepper, black pepper, pink peppercorn and cardamom. The orange sauce is built from roasted duck jus and is every bit as deep and complex as it sounds. This dish is at once completely classic and entirely its own thing, which is arguably the highest compliment you can pay a dish.

Glace A L'talienne - Pistachio-forest berry

And for pudding - the soft serve. The Glace a L'Italienne, inspired by the sundae at Daniel Boulud's La Tête d'Or in New York, arrives in rotating combinations: pistachio with mixed berry sorbet (dairy-free, for those who notice these things), or chocolate and vanilla. Pure pistachio paste, real vanilla pods, rich dark chocolate. All made in-house. All needlessly good for what is, technically, ice cream. The pistachio one in particular stopped conversation at the table. That's a high bar to clear.

If there is a single, solitary complaint - and I am duty-bound to find one - it is this: the portions are too generous. There. I said it. Modern restaurants have spent the last decade perfecting the art of serving something the size of a dental floss packet and calling it a main course, Terrace Boulud turns up with actual, honest-to-goodness generous plates that leave you full. Scandalous. The outrage. By the third course you will be making noises that are incompatible with the elegant surroundings, loosening things, reconsidering life choices. You have been warned.

Throughout May, the French GourMay [gourmet geddit?!] menu adds Alpine warmth to proceedings: a Burger Savoyard with Australian Wagyu, darphin potato and melted raclette cheese; the Tartiflette, that magnificently rib-sticking Alpine gratin of charlotte potatoes, smoked pancetta and reblochon. Savoie wines poured by the glass - from magnum, naturally, because why wouldn't you - accompany it all. The Domaine Fabien Trosset Mondeuse is a particular find: juicy, spiced, absolutely made for a long afternoon on a terrace with good company and no afternoon meetings.

Terrace Boulud is, in the truest sense of the word, an experience. Not a meal with a view, but a whole vibe... the room, the rooftop, the skyline, the food, the energy of a room full of people who are absolutely exactly where they want to be. The cooking is technically accomplished, deeply pleasurable, and has a genuine soul to it; French at its bones, but the musculature is woven with Hong Kong-ness, Chinois-chic on a palatable plate.  

And I will be presumptuous enough to state; Michelin is going to come knocking. It's not a question of if. It's when. The food is already there. The room is already there. The consistency is already there, at a media tasting no less, which is where you learn the truth, because when the cameras are on and the journalists are taking notes, what you get is what they want you to see. And what I saw was a kitchen that already knows exactly what it is.

Watch this space. But book first. Because clearly, all of Central already has.

Terrace Boulud by Mandarin Oriental, Landmark Prince's, Central, Hong Kong.
Reservations: terraceboulud@mohg.com

Repost: New Punjab Club in HK: Star-Spangled, Spice-Soaked, and Gloriously Confused About Its Own Identity

Originally written circa 2022. Reposting because the food was then - and presumably remains -extraordinary. Some things deserve a second airing. This is one of them.

-- Rama  

There is a particular kind of audacity required to open a restaurant in Central Hong Kong, seat only twenty people, insist your kitchen produces the finest cuisine of the Punjab - and then, with a straight face and a beautifully typeset press release, tell journalists it is Pakistani food.

Reader, it is not Pakistani food. Not primarily. Not really. Not if you've eaten in Lahore or Karachi or been to a Pakistani home kitchen where the flavours lean leaner, the spicing more restrained, the meat preparations closer to Central Asian influences than the buttery, tandoor-fired abundance of the Indian subcontinent's northwestern breadbasket. But we will come back to this. We always do.

New Punjab Club opened in 2015, tucked into Wyndham Street, Central - that strip of Hong Kong real estate that seems permanently committed to housing restaurants for people who've already decided they're having a good evening before they've even sat down. The restaurant is the brainchild of founder Syed Asim Hussain, the man behind the Black Sheep Restaurants group, who also happens to have personal ties to the space: his father's restaurant, The Mughal Room, once occupied the same address. There is something poetically appropriate about that - history literally cooked into the walls. 

The concept was ambitious, even a little mad. Punjabi cuisine - proper, unapologetically robust Punjabi cuisine - elevated to fine-dining standards in one of Asia's most competitive restaurant cities. Twenty seats. A tandoor as the beating heart of the kitchen. A wine cellar with serious intent. And a bar program that quietly became one of the best whisky lists in Hong Kong. (The whisky-with-spiced-food pairing is, it should be noted, not a gimmick. It works. Magnificently. Your cardiologist would disagree, but your cardiologist isn't at the table, and long may that last.) 

The rave reviews came quickly, and they came loudly. Broadsheets and glossy magazines fell over themselves. Food writers who had spent years dismissing subcontinental cuisine as inherently "casual" found themselves reassessing. And then, in 2019, Michelin confirmed what the dinner queue already knew: New Punjab Club became the world's first Punjabi restaurant to receive a Michelin star. The first. In the world. Sitting in Hong Kong, which already has more Michelin stars per capita than almost anywhere on the planet, including France. A detail that never gets old. The star has been retained every year since. Four consecutive years, at the time of this writing. 

The chefs responsible - and here is where the Pakistani branding gets genuinely, lovingly complicated - are Palash Mitra and Chhabil Sidhu. Two Indian chefs. From the subcontinent's Indian side of the partition line. Cooking food the PR team is at some pains to label Pakistani. Doing so brilliantly. Now look, I am not here to adjudicate the politics of partition at the dinner table. I am here to eat. But the identity question deserves more than a dismissive wave, because it illuminates something fascinating about what Punjab actually is. 

The Punjab, land of five rivers, was, before 1947, a single region. Then the Radcliffe Line cut through it with the blunt efficiency of a man who had never been there and had six weeks to draw a border. Lahore went to Pakistan. Amritsar stayed in India. Families divided. Recipes did not. The tandoor techniques, the mustard-laced winter greens, the slow-cooked lamb of the Mughal court, the dairy excess (the butter, the ghee, the cream, always the cream) - these belonged to a geography, not a passport. So what is distinctively Pakistani food, as opposed to Indian food from the Punjab? 

The honest answer involves nuance that marketing departments rarely survive. Pakistani cuisine, broadly, draws on the same Mughal inheritance but layers in Central Asian and Persian influences more heavily - the pilaus and pulaos lean toward Afghan-style rice preparations, the kebab traditions echo Turkish routes through the old Silk Road, the seasoning tends toward cardamom and dried fruits over fresh chilli heat, the meat often lamb or beef where the Indian side might reach for chicken. Pakistani Punjabi cooking specifically favours the spit and the slow braise; it is less enamored of the intense dry-heat tandoor than its Indian counterpart, and the butter chicken - that totemic dish the world associates with "Indian food" - is almost certainly a post-partition invention from the Indian side, specifically from a Punjabi refugee family in Delhi. You know, the capital of... 

At New Punjab Club, the tandoor is everything. Which tells you something. What Chefs Mitra and Sidhu do - did, at the time of this meal - is not fraudulent. It is, if anything, more honest than the branding: they cook the food of an undivided Punjab, drawing on Mughal-era recipes and the deep agricultural tradition of one of the subcontinent's great grain-growing, dairy-producing, food-obsessed regions. If that food happens to geographically straddle the modern border and be claimed by both nations with equal ferocity, well. Cuisine does not stop at checkpoints. 

The menu that greeted our party of self-appointed critics - assembled, as is the custom, with the express purpose of eating too much and arguing about it afterwards, was a document of serious intent. The tandoor section alone could sustain a review. The Malai Tikka arrives as something close to a revelation: the restaurant's preferred local three-yellow chicken, brined for a day, then marinated in soft cheese, yoghurt, green chilli and yellow chilli powder before the tandoor works its alchemy. The result is chicken that has surrendered all of its moisture to flavour and none of its flavour to the process. It is, to use the technical term, ridiculously good. The Matka Murghi, the same three-yellow chicken sealed into a clay pot with safri spices, root vegetables and shallots and then left overnight in the residual heat of a cooling tandoor - produces a stew of such gentle, fragrant depth that you begin to understand why the process has survived for centuries. This is not a chef showing off. This is a chef respecting what time and indirect heat can accomplish that nothing else can. Pre-book it. I say this with the urgency of someone who has watched a companion be turned away from this dish: just pre-book it. 

The Nashta section (street food but seriously elevated!) deserves its own small ceremony. The Tamatar Ki Chaat, made famously without onion or garlic (a cooking constraint that is itself a kind of culinary discipline, like a painter restricting their palette), uses heirloom tomatoes blushed in the tandoor and Pink Fir potatoes cooked overnight in the slow ovens. The result is something that tastes both utterly familiar and completely refined. And the Makki Di Roti with Sarson Da Saag (griddle-cooked corn flatbread scooping up mustard greens and date jaggery), is a dish so embedded in Punjabi identity (specifically the Lohri festival, celebrated across the Punjab on both sides of the border in January, with bonfires and folk songs and the particular joyfulness of a people who have survived another winter) that eating it in this room, with these prices, in Hong Kong, feels like time travel.... with better lighting and aspirational art framed at every visible space. 

Then, there's the room itself. Twenty seats, as promised. It harkens to the era of post-colonial Punjab with the nostalgic flair of someone who genuinely loves that aesthetic rather than someone who hired a production designer to fake it. Old world charm is an overused phrase. Here, it earns usage. We rolled out into the Hong Kong rain, into one of those soaked taxis that smell of upholstery, stale beer and ambition, collectively bloated and arguing the question we always argue: why doesn't subcontinental fine dining get the respect it deserves? 

The answer involves decades of Western food media's class coding of "ethnic" cuisines, the assumption that complexity and refinement belong to European traditions, and a generalized failure of imagination that Michelin, to its credit, has begun to correct. 

One star. Four years running. Twenty seats. The world's first. The branding may tell you it is Pakistani. The chefs are Indian. The food is Punjabi, which, if you know your history and your geography and have paid attention to the past several paragraphs, is simply: yes. All of the above. And then some. Go. Take someone you want to impress. 

And perhaps, just perhaps, let the food be the thing that doesn't require a border. 

New Punjab Club
34 Wyndham Street, Central, Hong Kong.
Reservations via www.newpunjabclub.com. 

Words and Images: P.Ramakrishnan 
The images have been AI modified, enhanced, sharpened from original phone pics! 

Goodby My Sweet... pea Cafe: Remembering a favourite bakery: TBT: Throwback Tuesday feature

Above: Vegan Chocolate Cake. 

Just heard that one of my favourite bakeries in Hong Kong has closed - why does nothing ood last in HK?! Well, it all begins with rent... 

I wrote this blurb three/four years ago. Found in word draft. 

Sweetpea Cafe: A Gluten-Free Haven with Exceptional Vegan Delights in Central, Hong Kong

Tucked away on Shin Hing Street in Central’s Noho area, Sweetpea Cafe has been around for over a decade - even the owner couldn't tell me which exact date and year it opened. Standing lonesome among bars and restaurants galore, the dedicated 100% gluten-free little shop around the corner, is the cute little place one loves to read about - so why not write about it? So here goes. 

Run with such joi-de-vivre by owner Angel Hon, the cozy spot welcomes those with celiac disease,  (real and alleged-) dietary sensitivities, and anyone seeking wholesome, beautiful baked goods and brunch. It is warm, inviting atmosphere, complete with thoughtful decor, gorgeous dogs that come by for a quick sniff and, on occasion cuddle, and friendly service, making it a beloved neighborhood nook. An impressive range of vegan options await when you put your nose onto the glass pane that blocks you for cakes galore - which consistently impresses even non-vegans. 

Truth be told, vegan cakes and pastries often fall flat, they are often dry, dense, or overly sweetened to compensate for lack of flavour. Sweetpea’s creations shine as they look great and taste great } rarest of combos among the holier-than-thou-vegan-community. 

Reviewers have raved about moist, fluffy textures and rich flavours that defy expectations, so it was a pleasure to discover this wasn't media mumbo-jumbo on cut, copy and paste. The signature vegan chocolate cake [above, bought, ie paid with cash not sponsored for this feature!], with its silky dark chocolate ganache (often sugar-free), delivers a luxurious, fudgy indulgence that tastes decadently “normal.” 

Many noted - when served at a birthday party - they couldn’t tell it was vegan, a rare compliment in the plant-based world. Remember "Eat Right" on Soho? That ol' vegan and veg restaurant by the escalators on Soho where every plate came with a dash of kumbaya...but the food tasted like cardboard? Well, at least at Sweetpea, everything we've tried so far, tastes Yummmmmm!  

Other highlights on display include the Earl Grey chiffon cake; light, airy, and elegantly fragrant. The dairy-free honey cake, I hate to repeat myself but Yummmmmm! 

Weekly specials feature egg- and dairy-free desserts, alongside savoury vegan-friendly items like the Vega burger, which won over meat-eaters with its satisfying bite and balanced seasonings. Healthy bowls, brunch plates, and cashew milk lattes round out the menu, making it easy to build a fully vegan meal. 

Sweetpea proves that gluten-free and vegan didn’t mean compromise. The commitment to visual refinement, quality ingredients, no artificial additives, and small-batch care results in treats that look stunning and taste even better. 

For those missing that rare magic where vegan food genuinely delights, Sweetpea’s online offerings keep the dream alive. Whether for a special occasion cake or everyday indulgence, it remains a standout in Hong Kong’s mindful dining scene. 

MIUS Bar: Hong Kong's Charming Neighbourhood Gem

Nestled at 29 Gough Street in the vibrant NoHo area, in that odd space between Central and Sheung Wan which is a nightmare to get to on a rainy day in a red cab (I write with a lot of experience), MIUS [pronounced "muse" but Alexa that and land up elsewhere, hence the all caps spelling], has quickly become one of Hong Kong's most talked-about cocktail bars since opening its doors in late August 2025. 

Shelly Tai

Founded by award-winning bartender Shelley Tai, the venue marks her triumphant return home after nearly five years abroad, where she managed Singapore's acclaimed Nutmeg & Clove (ranked #6 on Asia’s 50 Best Bars in 2024). There are 8,926 licensed bars operating in Hong Kong [yes, I checked] in the tiny dot of an island and the trickling pool of customers have options galore, venues tightly knit next to each other so waiting is not an option for the well-heeled. Note a line streaming out of a bar, waiting in impatient scroll, you know the venue is either really good [Coa, Bar Leone], or its new with either hype or hyperbola trending on social media. 

I landed at the venue soon after MIUS opened and am happy to report its pretty damn good. As all are spoilt for choice in the city, you really aren't going to a bar for their novel drinks and the aerated promises of a tattooed mixologist, you're going to follow the cult of personality; Bar Leone does better when Lorenzo's in town and without Jay Khan's ever-smiling face, Coa wouldn't be what it is either. I was told about Shelley long before I met her; she's gorgeous and she's gifted. Both, I've witnessed. 

A former Quinary talent [which is a street above and across the street - like I said, choices], Tai brings world-class expertise and her famed World Class championship pedigree to her first independent project. The name MIUS playfully twists “muse,” reflecting Tai’s philosophy of “simple things, done right.” The bar embodies a welcoming neighbourhood vibe rather than flashy spectacle—think mid-century modern decor with neutral tones, clean lines, high ceilings, reflective surfaces, and warm wood accents that create an elegant yet generally unpretentious atmosphere. 

The menu focuses on modern classics and approachable cocktails, most using no more than six ingredients for balance and precision. Standouts include the refreshing Tomatotini (vodka-based, savoury twist, introduced to me by Christy Liang who swears by it--word of mouth does well in the 852), the cozy warm Matcha Mori (hot whisky with matcha, coconut, and salted vanilla cream), the fruity Guava Oolong Float (sparkling sake with sorbet), Strawberry Negroni, and the beloved Gin & Apple. 

Beyond drinks, MIUS pairs cocktails with comforting bar bite staples like fries and hearty plates that blend Asian influences, turning it into a true hangout spot. Prices range from the accessible to the elevated, so look carefully; the prices are not on whim, the quality of the ingredients is top-notch.  

While on a lonesome media tasting, I found the place to be perfect for Hong Kong’s youth and dare-I-suspect, many a first-date situation. It attracts younger crowds eager for its relaxed energy, sharp pours, and genuine hospitality. It feels approachable and comfortable, designed for easy conversation with friends or bartenders, with gentle music levels and a no-pretension approach, although I've been warned by others that the place gets busy quickly and is riddled with the young and the restless, while the rest of us might have to wait in line--unless you know someone, who knows someone, who can get you a high-barstool quickly.

High-concept bars are dime-a-dozen, MIUS stands out for its focus on enjoyment over showmanship—proving that thoughtful simplicity can create something truly special.

MIUS
Address: 29 Gough Street, Central, Hong Kong (Sheung Wan/Central area, walk-in only)
Instagram: @mius.hongkong 
Opening hours: Monday–Sunday, 5 PM to 1 AM

Postscript: next week, will let you know about Peridot, which everyone's talking about... unkindly. Great views, awful food, photogenic interiors with vile vegan cheese. Great staff, but an expensive venue. I want to like the place, but like Natalie Imbruglia and my shower curtain, I am torn. 

Also, my how the mighty hath fallen; whatever is going on at 11 Westside?! 

  

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by MIUS (@mius.hongkong)

What’s Happening in Hong Kong’s Drink Scene? The 11 Hottest Bars to Try Right Now

A tipple and a quick bite after work have never been more enticing.

For the second consecutive year, Bar Leone has clinched the top spot in Asia’s 50 Best Bars, with Lorenzo Antinori and his stellar team earning well-deserved accolades—hardly surprising to local media who’ve championed this gem despite its often-daunting queues. But this is Hong Kong—queuing in an orderly fashion is practically a civic duty.

While other Asian cities boast mixologist cocktails and beachside bars with coconuts at arm’s reach, Hong Kong has something unique: a fierce edge honed by brutal rents and relentless competition. Only the strongest survive in this Darwinian landscape, where every barkeep and restaurateur must bring their A-game to stand out in a city teeming with options.

Our friendly neighbourhood haunt—full disclosure, Robb Report Hong Kong’s offices are two streets and a hop and climb away from Bar Leone, and our team frequents it more than we’d care to admit—is buzzing as ever. Securing a booth is now even trickier, but fear not, dear reader, for Hong Kong boasts over 9,000 watering holes. When the queues grow long and the rains loom ominous, there are plenty of stellar alternatives.

In our relentless pursuit of the novel, the different, and the downright delicious, we’ve done the hard yards—sacrificing for the greater good with the precision of a scientist on sabbatical. Here’s our curated guide to Hong Kong’s hottest bars to try right now, and what they’re serving this season.

Read the entire feature with the full list here at Robb Report Hong Kong. 

Michelin Masters Uwe Opocensky and Frédéric Chabbert Reunite at Petrus

Celebrate the artistry of French cuisine as two culinary luminaries join forces for an exclusive dining experience at Island Shangri-La.

We didn’t expect a reunion of culinary titans to be in the cards this season, but this September, Island Shangri-La’s renowned Restaurant Petrus will host an extraordinary collaboration between Michelin-starred chefs Uwe Opocensky and Frédéric Chabbert. 

From 17 to 19 September 2025, these culinary giants will present an intimate series of four-hands dinners, offering discerning diners a rare opportunity to savour their signature dishes side by side—not to compare and contrast but to complement and enhance the sensory experience of refined dining. It’s been a decade since these two chefs last collaborated, and it promises to be a celebration of their shared devotion to French cuisine, blending classic techniques with contemporary innovation. Set against the opulent backdrop of Restaurant Petrus, perched on the 56th floor of the Island Shangri-La, the evenings will unfold with a choice of a six-course menu or an eight-course extravaganza—take your pick! Each dish is meticulously crafted to showcase the freshest seafood and seasonal ingredients, reflecting the chefs’ unwavering commitment to culinary excellence.

Read the entire feature here at Robb Report Hong Kong.

This Landmark Restaurant Ushered In a Culinary Transformation of Luxury, Modern Chinese Dining, and It’s Celebrating a Decade of Innovation

On the eve of Mott 32’s decade, we dive into the restaurant’s faultless culinary expansion from Hong Kong to the world.

In the heart of Hong Kong, where tradition and modernity coalesce in harmony, Mott 32 stands as a beacon of elevated Chinese cuisine that’s homed in the basement of an iconic building—everything that was here was not supposed to work, a cavernous basement location with no street visibility and difficult access—and yet it did, and it’s become part of the DNA of our city. It’s a destination-dining must that’s wowed guests and critics alike for the past decade. Indeed, since its inception in 2014, this establishment has captivated guests, gourmands, and editors alike, earning accolades for its innovative approach to Chinese culinary traditions and exquisite interior design. Mott 32 is not merely a restaurant; it is an experience that redefines the boundaries of Chinese cuisine with novel takes, an elevation of traditional recipes with a global perspective and modernisation that’s second to none.

Read the entire feature here at Robb Report Hong Kong

Editor's note: I genuinely love taking friends to or recommending international friends to pop by Mott 32 (and/or China Club but its a hassle to get a table there as I'm not a member!). When my gorgeous friend Fabrizia Caracciolo was briefly in town, she asked for recommendation for a final dinner somewhere before she jetted off. Part of Cabana magazine, I knew she'd enjoy the interiors of Mott 32 - just the visual, photogenic, Instagram-friendly space takes your breath away at first look. And she did. It's also where we take parents of friends when they come to Hong Kong, and its always fair game for celebrity sighting and voyeur vision on the who's who of society. Then there's the food. More on that at - well, my feature. So check it out! ;0)

Inside Jimmy’s Kitchen, the Return of a Legendary Hong Kong Restaurant

 

After its lengthy hiatus, the doors are open once again in this latest incarnation.

“Is the chicken Kiev still on the menu?”

Irrevocably, it is the first question on everyone’s mind when they step through into the newly returned Jimmy’s Kitchen. Be it the beef Wellington in Restaurant Gordon Ramsay in London’s Chelsea, the beef Stroganoff from the Russian Tea Room in New York, or the black cod miso at Nobu around the world, there are certain signature dishes associated with famed chefs and legendary locales that are symbiotically interlinked together.

Yes, the chicken supreme Kiev is still on the menu (and as good as memory serves). Jimmy’s chicken Madras returns in style, and the baked Alaska arrives with all the theatrics one has grown accustomed to. In fact, many of the famed fan favourites remain, as tampering with the leather-bound menu of Jimmy’s Kitchen would be sacrilege to the culinary gods and its discipled, long-time diners. Of course, there are new—and welcome—additions to the courses, but some things simply shouldn’t be tampered with.

Read the entire feature here at Robb Report Hong Kong.

First Look: Mott 32 Gets a New Stage to Shine On After Breathtaking Makeover: Hong Kong's photogenic restaurant

 Open at last, after a seemingly endless hiatus for a makeover that no one saw coming, the best-looking venue in town got a fascinating facelift.

If fine dining can be alluded to as high-performance art, well, then there is no better operatic stage for it in Hong Kong than Mott 32, especially after its latest revamp that’s bound to be the talk of the town this season.

Having undergone its first cosmetic makeover in nearly a decade, the restaurant has amped up the volume; take a bow, Joyce Wang Studio, and clear the mantle for yet another award. The overall experience from a design perspective alone overwhelms—it’s breathtaking.

Read the entire feature here at Robb Report Hong Kong. 

It’s all in the Name: Hong Kong Cuisine: Dining in Hong Kong

A fine dining concept hidden in arteries of mostly residential Happy Valley, you’ll find the hidden gem that’s celebrating local culture, one hot plate at a time.

Marking the famed restaurant’s 10 year anniversary, Hong Kong Cuisine has undergone a complete revamp led by its new chef, Silas Li.  In his previous incarnation, he was ‘the’ private chef to the city’s most notable names with over two decades of experience under his belt – well, under his apron strings, if we could just amend the adage for a more apt ring.   

Read the entire feature here at Robb Report Hong Kong