Chinese repertoire taste newly
minted: peanuts that have been
left to languish in mellow black
Chinkiang vinegar; smacked
cucumbers — less smacked and
more walloped, in a clear, garlic,
bird’s-eye chilli and tomato-
studded liquid ringing with fish
sauce and lime juice, sour,
sweet — as fresh as a wild swim.
Carnivores aren’t overlooked:
green beans in pork mince,
their version of the Sichuan
classic, virtually has me face-
planting in the little plastic
platter. It’s bellowing with
flavour, noisy with what I think
is preserved mustard greens.
Perhaps the homemade XO
sauce. And “dai-style” chicken
— originally a Yunnan dish that
tastes almost Thai, crusted with
char but super-juicy and
fragrant-fleshed. But the most
surprising dish is from the cold
starters: “mapo mushrooms”
brings blistered sails of fried
wonton dough, a pool of creamy
tofu and chopped mushrooms
plates in shades of Love Hearts.
The kitsch aesthetic reaches its
peak with pineapple fried rice,
savoury and resonant with ginger
and coriander, studded with
chunks of the fruit and served
— of course! — in a hollowed-
out half pineapple. (But the
quality of the rice is standout,
each grain fat and glossy.) If
you’re familiar with Parr père’s
work, you might say the apple
isn’t falling too far from the tree.
Coming to this candy-
coloured, smoke-fragranced little
joint is the happiest of accidents.
There’s even stuff that feels a
bit Karamay-like as salve to my
thwarted plans: Xinjiang-style
lamb kebabs hit with a vibrant
dusting of cumin, fennel and
chilli. I’ll get there one day, even
if I have to camp outside. I’ve
got the bit — if not the chicken
gizzard skewers — between my
teeth. As to Plan B, it’s all done
with real, well, joy. Lucky us n
Twitter: @marinaoloughlin
Insta: @marinagpoloughlinPLATE OF
THE NATION
Itsu the Original
Chicken Big’BaoComing across like a naughty
gift at a hen party with its
pink elastic bow, and like a
bit of a pretentious nuisance
with its lower-case, otiose
apostrophe branding, Itsu’s
chicken big’bao is lunch for
the preternaturally jaded.
Microwaved for 90
seconds, it helpfully steams
in its container. I can’t get
more excited than “pleasant
enough”: the dough is less
the promised “soft, cloud-
like texture” and more
hefty dollop of stodge.
Chopped into small
chunks, the distractingly
beige chicken, with its
flecks of shiitake and wood
ear mushrooms, its soy
savour and hint of spring
onion, is a decent filling.
The bun is designed to be
eaten “two-handed”, it says.
I resort to knife and fork
plus some excellent chilli
oil and it improves no end.
Roughly double the cost
of its Chinatown equivalent,
this is for those occasions
when a Greggs sausage roll
just won’t chime with your
vibe, babez. MO’LAbout £3 from main
supermarkets; itsu.comHOW MUCH?
Starters £3.50-£7
Mains £7-£14.50Total for two, including
drinks and 12.5 per cent
service charge £90given the mapo tofu treatment,
gorgeously murky with
doubanjiang (spicy fermented
bean paste). Piled onto the puffy
crackers, this is a sensory riot.
Lucky & Joy isn’t pretending
to be purist or wildly authentic
— they say they’re “inspired by
classics from Hunan, Sichuan,
and NYC’s Flushing Chinatown”
and are happy to serve sub
sandwiches and banh mi. The
place is super-cute, the sort of
thing the Japanese would call
kawaii (if that isn’t more
cultural solecism): fake foliage,
bamboo cutlery containers with
chopsticks that look like the
plant’s green shoots, plasticThe Sunday Times Magazine • 51