Rubble Street Café Intimidates, Surprises

By Mr. Sparkle

Nov. 30 (Bloomberg) -- The Rubble Street Café exists to verify the old adage: never judge a book by its cover.

Tucked away on a quiet street in Anting Old Town, the Chinese restaurant, coveted title holder of two Michelin stars certainly doesn’t look worthy of the attention it receives. Nestled in the ruins of an adjacent establishment, the stove fire of the Café shines brightly in the night, like a phoenix rising from the ashes.


Upon initial inspection, conditions seem grim. Broken patio furniture adorns the interior. Walls are cracked. The recent paint job isn’t fooling anybody either (previous shade was concrete gray). In fact, up until last week the restaurant didn’t even have a door installed in the entrance.


A German diner remarked: “On my first visit to this location, I thought Bush had extended his war on terror to East Asia. Instead of Baghdad, I was thinking bombs over Anting.” Another European patron agreed: “Part of the thrill of dining here is you never know whether this restaurant will be demolished mid-meal. It really puts things into perspective and helps you to savor each dish like it’s your last.”

Particularly avant-garde in its approach, the restaurant has adopted an open kitchen concept, allowing visitors to see the chefs exhibit their culinary skills in their full glory. It also allows customers who can’t order in Chinese to walk into the kitchen and select ingredients for their dishes by hand.


Holding tightly onto the reigns of this culinary juggernaut is the Wong family, who through their indefatigable work ethic built this restaurant up from nothing to the palatial destination it is today. Ever accommodating, they eschew the idea of printed menus and prefer their customers to order from their imagination or memory, as long as they do so in Mandarin. Despite this haphazard attention to protocol, this restaurant rarely disappoints.

Without a question, the Kung Pao Chicken is the restaurant’s signature dish. The fiery breath of the wok is deeply infused into this spicy and fragrant item. Next, the Bell Peppers with Beef provides a satisfying, albeit salty, crunch. A bowl of Firepot Beef then challenges the most aggressive flame-eater and houses a pleasant surprise: rice noodles. Moving on, slender Potato Slices do a good job of soothing the palate and go well with Tsingtao Beer. Finally, the Egg Fried Rice and Chow Mein offer a tranquil haven for the senses after the torrent of flavors. The knowing smiles of the servers seem to reflect the calm confidence they have in their dishes.


Don’t let the warm aura of the Café fool you though. This place is ruthless. The restaurant severely under prices its local competition, offering better fare and more of it per order. Competitors, especially those with modern interiors and normal furniture are feeling the squeeze as word of the Café travels. “When I first saw the place, I thought ‘no way’,” a nearby restaurateur griped. My visits confirmed this; splitting five dishes with several dining companions usually amounts to 20 RMB per head. Adding to the consternation, the restaurant has also adopted the unorthodox business practice of allowing its patrons to get their drinks from the convenience store across the street.

The Café has the loyalties of local celebrities and is bustling by 7pm nightly. In fact, on my second visit I caught sight of the culinary upstart from Anting New Town, JL, buying dinner. “No comments,” he growled, as he speedily vacated the premises with his take-out.

Always pushing the limits of epicurean convention, the restaurant has grand plans. “We are thinking of installing a heated patio for the winter, so our VIPs can sit closer to the ruins,” Mrs. Wong exclaimed.


When the food’s this good, customers don’t mind a bit of broken glass under the table.

Rating: ***

The Bloomberg Questions

Cost? Generous orders amount to 20 RMB per person.
Sound level? Depends on the wind.
Date place? If you’re thinking of breaking it off.
Inside tip? Any dish can be made spicy.
Special feature? The surrounding wreckage of course.
Private room? Potentially.
Will I be back? Yes.

Standing Building, Rubble Street, Anting Old Town, Shanghai, PRC.

What the Stars Mean:
**** Incomparable food, service, ambience.
*** First-class of its kind.
** Good, reliable.
* Fair
None Poor.

(Mr. Sparkle doesn’t actually write for Bloomberg News. Opinions expressed are his own.)

Dialogue

- Free, my favourite is the Kung Pao Chicken!
- Cat, my roommates usually eat different things: one eats dumplings with ketchup every night and the other eats cereal usually. But I did cook a meal for two on Friday:


- Char, this place didn't lose its identity as it went upscale. Tsingtao Beer is still the only option.
- Tim, I need a Posh to open here.
- Fong, the French Laundry has nothing on the Rubble Street Café.

Michelin Recognizes Canadian Eatery

By Mr. Sparkle

Nov. 25 (Bloomberg) -- Michelin & Cie. awarded its prestigious symbol of distinction to a restaurant in the outskirts of Shanghai in the latest editions of its dining and hotel guides.

In an unprecedented move, the renowned publication awarded half a star on its first and last visit to the Fifth Floor Recluse, a recently established restaurant occupying the kitchen of the exclusive Block 13 penthouse in Anting New Town, Shanghai.

JL runs the show as host, owner, server and chef. Known for his chilly demeanor, he was guarded on the phone when I called to reserve a table. “We don’t do reservations, you wait like everyone else. Who? Bloomberg? Well, let me check… wait are you wearing a wire?”

So it is dining at the Recluse. On any given night, the restaurant is so exclusive that it only admits one customer, JL himself. The fare certainly reflects his distinct tastes. “I don’t do appetizers, they only make the customer hungrier, and I don’t need that,” he explained. On to the main course.

Extremely sophisticated in his approach, JL has framed his dishes around the availability of ingredients in Shanghai’s markets. This includes selecting vegetables that have been tightly packaged, to enhance grocery mobility and also avoid unwittingly smuggling the cockroaches that roam around store aisles. He then pan fries or boils his ingredients using a gas stove, as it is the fastest way.

He creates gastronomic masterpieces using the freshness of his ingredients as a crutch. Common features of his dishes are cherry tomatoes, cucumber slices, peas and chilies. Sometimes he will also throw in peanuts to remind others he is not allergic.


The sirloin fedelini del carne was infallible, although the one thing that required skill, the beef, was overcooked. The ‘chicken on fire’ was indeed spicy and thanks to honey, possessed a hint of sweetness. However, it was also watery. As a salute to his European comrades, the potatoes and dumplings oozed with limp enthusiasm. However, the roasted duck with refried noodle was surprisingly scrumptious.


JL’s signature dish, however, appears on his most desperate nights. Grilled pain au fromage avec chips reaches into the inner depths of the soul with its refreshing familiarity and complex textures.


Mrs. Wong, the owner of the aptly named Rubble Street Café in Anting Old Town, a winner of two Michelin stars stated, “Who does this guy think he is? He just came out of nowhere two months ago. Since then, my business has been unaffected. Last week, to maintain things as usual, I even had to install a door in the doorway. Now the servers have absolutely no idea: push or pull? This town’s become a madhouse.”


The enigmatic and precocious restauranteur trained under three of Canada’s greats, Iven, Teena and Bessee. Known for their ruthlessly efficient and equally delicious cuisine, JL’s technique was honed over years of grueling instruction. He remarks, “I just kind of sat there and watched while they did everything. It was like learning through osmosis, except I also played Gameboy at the same time. Sometimes, after particularly intense sessions, I would get calluses on both thumbs.”

Usually chefs keep their culinary secrets guarded tightly, only revealing them upon death or signing multimillion dollar book deals. When asked whether the spartan taste of his meals was influenced by any particular chefs, his face darkened. “Jamie Oliver? He’s a hack,” JL fumed. “I’ll tell you my secret,” he continued, “Don’t buy so many ingredients. By limiting the number of ingredients in your meals, you ensure consistency.” However, he admitted this Machiavellian all-or-nothing approach had its drawbacks. “Sometimes, my customer leaves very hungry. After he threatened to never come back, I imported a box of cereal from downtown. It’s the best Kokokrunch in town.”


And therein lies the secret of his success. When a chef creates such low expectations, restaurant critics can’t help but be impressed when the food turns out to be edible. Even the world’s most seasoned professionals can succumb to a myopic view after eating here.

“Hey man, I gotta survive,” JL asserts as he finishes washing plates for the night.

Indeed.

Michelin, the world's biggest tiremaker, is based in Clermont-Ferrand, France, and has been publishing dining guides for more than a century. Three stars denote ``Exceptional cuisine, worth a special journey;'' two stars, ``Excellent cooking, worth a detour;'' one star, ``Very good cooking in its category.''

Rating: *

The Bloomberg Questions

Cost? Nothing over 20 RMB.
Sound level? Pin drop quiet.
Date place? Only if your date likes JL.
Inside tip? Best food is on Mondays when he has the most ingredients.
Special feature? Ask for the Minute Maid.
Private room? No.
Will I be back? No.

Fifth Floor Recluse is on the fifth floor, apartment block 13, Anting New Town, Shanghai, PRC.

What the Stars Mean:
**** Incomparable food, service, ambience.
*** First-class of its kind.
** Good, reliable.
* Fair
None Poor.

Dialogue

- Free, as much as I would love to live among symbols of Fascist oppression, I believe the statues are of the Brothers Grimm, as a tribute to the town of Gottingen.
- BunkleLife, I think at my roommates' old place. It smells too funky in there.
- Nick, at least Silent Hill was in English.
- Tim, now I know why Richmond drivers have that reputation.
- Char, I will ride on the Pikachu once before I leave town.
- Em, that store wasn't the 24 hours one. This one never bothered to post up its hours.

Anting: The Haunting Continues

Some of you have requested a few more pictures of what the town looks like. I am happy to oblige (although there really isn't anyone to see). First two pictures show my crib by the way (top floor starting right of the small window, until the green sections ends).



Building occupancy is, shall I say... subprime. I'll post something more substantial in a few days.

If a tree falls in Anting New Town, and nobody hears it; did it fall?

Okay I'll stop.

Museum of Contemporary Art

On Saturday, I dragged my butt out of bed to go to the Shanghai Museum of Contemporary Art, located in People’s Square Park.

Before that could happen though, I had to get out of town. I got on the bus at 1315, 15 minutes early and managed to snag a seat. For some reason, the bus company decided to send the small 33 seat bus during one of the peak periods of the day. Coupled with Ghost Town’s steadily increasing population, it was a recipe for disaster. The people that came at 1320 were not so lucky and the whole centre aisle was full of people standing. Tensions between the expats and local people flared when one of the Germans from my company insensitively stood up and yelled “Hey Chinese people, get off the bus! I have an appointment!” A Chinese woman who could understand English took offence. At that moment I felt caught in the middle. Sure, all the people standing in the aisle were Chinese people, but I also felt a tinge of racism in that remark. It was a reminder that I was a part of both communities, yet belonging to neither. I think the locals have an impression that expats think they’re better than everyone else, and to an extent that observation is justified. I can only hope I don’t become a self-hating racist!

Finally, at 1350 the standees grudgingly got off and we departed.

MoCA

The Museum of Contemporary Art (MoCA) is located in People’s Square Park, which reminds of Central Park in New York City, albeit, a fraction of the size. Although there were a lot of people there, it was very calm, and there were many old men playing chess. And lots of couples making out. I have to say that the locals engage in quite a lot of PDA. On the subway a girl was taking care of her boyfriend’s acne. I wonder if that counts as PDA...


The Museum of Contemporary Art is a futuristic and impractical building, a perfect venue for the artwork it contains. This year’s exhibit was titled MoCA Envisage II: Butterfly Dream. I had my hesitations about spending the afternoon there, but it turned out to be a very dynamic exhibit. One of the major themes was the relationship between old China and new China, the presentation of China’s identity as being neither singular nor stagnant. I’m not really a haute follower of the arts, although I did periodically visit the Art Gallery when I was home (the KRAZY collection on comics was really cool). I was really impressed with the overall exhibit at MoCA. There was a diverse variety of methods and media on display, from paintings to sculpture and digital pieces. Most pieces were created by Chinese artists, although some international artists were also featured. Many works highlighted Shanghai’s sense of newfound sensuality. Several even had Disney accents, can you spot them?


A few pieces I liked in particular include:


This "woman" is fashioned with braids of paper. Apparently the designer has previously worn this as a dress to a fashion show. Is that Prada or Gucci?


These lightbulbs were fashioned out of solid blocks of jade.


This piece is called The Real Toy Story, by Michael Wolf. It is a homage to the factory workers that manufacture some of the world's most beloved icons.


This sculpture is called The Desire of a Mosquito, by Zhuang Kaikai. There's a stereo next to it that just plays a continuous recording of the mosquito's buzzing sound. Really annoying. I'd like to think that it drove the guard sitting close to it crazy.


At the top of the museum, there's a restaurant with a patio, which offers some nice views. It may be a tourist trap, but even artists have to eat.