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.