Jockeying for position within the Peking duck scene in Beijing is like selling sand in the Sahara. Da Dong, one of the few names that have emerged as the market leaders, seems to have discovered the key to thriving in such a competitive (and oversaturated) field. In addition to the throngs of locals and tourists alike lining up weekends and weekdays alike are many more conspicuous diners who have sought what makes Da Dong stand out: from ambassadors and Beijing Olympics officials to heavyweights such as Evander Holifield, Henry Kissinger, and the hero of the Cube, Michael Phelps. It seems Da Dong is a new rite of passage when visiting Beijing.
It might therefore come as a surprise that they don't do a lot of advertising: most people know of Da Dong via word of mouth. The secret, according to the deputy general manager, Zhang Zhao Hui, is a focus on the quality of product and environment. This is immediately clear in the menu. Each dish is given its own page with pictures worthy of a magazine spread: beautiful, stylish, each with a color scheme to match its flavor profile. It’s hard to believe that these dishes are only an order away.
The product, of course, doesn't disappoint. Each dish an adventure in aesthetics, flavors, and textures, woven together by chefs who know their ingredients and the fundamentals of Chinese cuisine, yet aren’t afraid to step out of that box to deliver surprises and delights.
The Dongsi branch (one of three in Beijing) lies in the area of town used for food storage during the Qing dynasty. Ancient granaries sit amidst a backdrop of towering glass, steel and LEDs. This juxtaposition of old and new China is echoed within the restaurant itself: bright, shiny, and sleek, but traces of the traditional abound, with a modern twist. The bird cages found in traditional restaurants are still present, but here they are stark white against the shining black wall tiles and hold bright red candles inside. The scrolls on the walls are here, too, but now encased in glass and backlit.
The place is a buzz as diners are presented with the surprises and treats in each dish.
One dish offers an upside-down glass with unknown murky contents. Smoke pours out as the glass is lifted, filling the air with wisps of heavy cedar smoke. Beside the glass, streaked across the plate like spilled ink on parchment, is a gooey soy reduction, recalling at once a classic Chinese art form and a more abstract contemporary art composition. But the glass and sauce are no mere empty tricks: the glass keeps the flavors intact all the way to the last moment, and while the flavors of the pale green, creamy avocado and gentle minced salmon seem lost in the heavy smoke, the slightest bit of soy reduction sets all the flavors exploding. Two traditional wafer rolls sit in the sauce to balance the textures.
This dance of flavors and textures, traditional and modern sensibilities continues through each course. The attentive staff even changed silverware and dishes often so as to keep each dishes' unique flavor profile pure and distinct.
A perfectly seared slice of goose liver, softly buttered, has a strong flavor of lobster, with the added richness of pate. Delicate and thick, it leaves the mouth with a velvety coating. In a sign of how aware the chef is of his ingredients, numerous options are provided to cut down the otherwise overwhelming richness. The red hawthorn fruit, traditionally used to aid the digestion of meat in Chinese medicine, brings sweet, fresh, tart, relief, while a bright green mint leaf is cooling, and a pale pink wine sorbet, cradled between two bright yellow flower petals offers an icy alternative. Aside from their functional role, cutting the richness, they bring a variety of colors and textures that give the dish multiple layers of enjoyment.
