The dim sum list at A Wong is an intimidating thing. So intimidating that half of the table that consists of me, Sophie, and her parents had printed the menu off weeks ago and worked out what we wanted to order to get a broad spectrum of it without over ordering. I’m sure you can guess which half. The other half whose name may or may not be Tony and Linda had opted to wing it a little more, taking advice from the server and also some unsolicited from the most amazing women on the table next door, clad in black and showcasing as many designers as possible like a roadside stall in Hong Kong. There’s the Gucci belt and the Dior belt bag, the Channel sun glasses (indoor, naturally), and oversized Mulberry handbag. She comes every month, she is keen to tell us, and we take heed of her six or so must orders that add a £150 to the bill. Later on we would discuss what she did for work; Tony thinks she’s a showbiz agent whilst I think she does very little other than lunch. She must be doing well; A Wong isn’t cheap, nor should it be with two stars above the door.
In classic small plate territory they want you to over order; we’re told ten of the dim sum dishes each, with two of the bigger plates, and maybe a couple of the sharing dishes between all of us. We don’t get anywhere near that – nor do we need to – taking that old fashioned approach of ordering what we actually want to eat. Some of those dishes don’t appear at all, some are sold out, and everything turns up as and when it is ready. The rhythm is discombobulating at times and the almost three hours we are there feels much longer.
I’ll try to go through the dishes in the order they were received. Crab claw comes in a flurry of kataifi pastry so that it resembles a sea urchin, with a kind of tomato and wasabi concasse at the base. It’s texturally more interesting than the flavour. There is a duo of tiny soy chicken bites that I love, perfumed and saline, with a warming kick of ginger, and a singular pork rib that’s nutty and sweet and punchy at £16.
The best thing I ate all day was a kind of char sui pork samosa that has extraordinary length due to the addition of raspberry and liquorice which adds great length to the sweet pork. So good in fact that I ordered two more towards the end of the meal. Likewise, Sophie thinks her little pot of whipped tofu with spicy fermented miscellaneous vegetables and peanuts is the best thing she ate that day. My soup dumpling is good if not the best example I’ve ever had, whilst Linda’s is stuck to the paper and splits. It’s one of those afternoons. And I’d love to tell you about the pork and prawn dumpling but it never shows up. Like I say, it’s one of those afternoons.
Sophie’s three treasure dumpling with king crab is a beautiful, aromatic, delicate thing that’s also tiny for £15, and she enjoys that a lot more than the pole noodles with the suggestion of crab at the same price. There are genuine fireworks with a two biter sandwich of pork, prawn, and truffle that’s lifted by the sweet and sour notes of plum, less so with the fingers of battered chilli aubergine that really could take more heat. From the bigger plates is fried rice that Sophie and her mother love that promises wagyu beef but delivers the occasional dropping of mince beef, to be wrapped up in lettuce leaf and eaten, and tiger prawns that look the part before they pour over the dressing and make a right mess by flinging it all around. They taste great though. I share some roast duck and pancakes with Tony. I can think of two places in Birmingham that do a better job on the duck and one is five minutes from my home.
It’s at this point I have a bit of a whinge when they ask how the meal is, pointing out that forgotten or incorrect dishes don’t really match up to my expectations of a two star Michelin restaurant. They agree, and the rest of the menu is full of generosity and warm hospitality. The wonton ‘prawn cocktail’ finally arrives, not as a two ordered, but for all four of us to try. It’s sweet and very enjoyable but the carrot flower is too thick. Then four portions (instead of one) of the coconut ice cream with olive oil and caviar that three of us love and Sophie hates. Having now eaten two of these I can tell you that it’s one of the most interesting desserts I’ve eaten in years, being bright and saline and barely sweet. There is a bonus dessert in the way of Hong Kong-style shaved ice with bird’s nest. I’ve had birds nest before and whilst I fail to see the point of bird spit, it is apparently very high in collagen, which is a surefire way to get two women to gobble it up. Sophie and her now plump lips gets a birthday cake which looks like four Mahong tiles that’s really delicious, I get an old fashioned made with Peking duck fat, and the ladies order more women. That last forty-five minutes is a dream.
The bill is not far off a grand for the four of us, half of which is wine and champagne, and all of which is paid for by Linda. None of us loved it as much as we thought we would, which isn’t to say that parts of it weren’t excellent. I almost omitted the missed dishes on account of how well they rectified it, but to do so would only tell one half of the story. A chef friend of mine said that you need to experience it as a tasting menu at dinner, though a lot of these dishes are replicated then and the price point is even higher. The best dishes are staggeringly brilliant, some of the others less so. I liked it, but we’re in no rush to get back anytime soon.
8/10
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