Before stepping into LINGLONG, I was drawn in by two hundred-year-old elevators next to the restaurant. No. 2 Zhongshan Road East โ now the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, home to LINGLONG, was once the Shanghai Club building a century ago. 115 years ago, British merchants including Jardine Matheson and the Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation jointly funded the reconstruction of this British neoclassical building, erecting this “Oriental London” at the very heart of Shanghai’s Bund. Back then, these two elevators carried suit-clad British expats day after day, the clatter of iron gates ushering in and out the glittering opulence of an entire era.
After 1949, the building passed through various incarnations โ a warehouse for China National Department Stores, a seamen’s club, and later bore the signs of “Dongfeng Restaurant” and Shanghai’s first KFC. At the turn of the 21st century, restoration and renovation began, and the two old elevators were reborn within the resplendent Waldorf Astoria. The clanking iron gates, the polished brass handles, and the triangular wooden cabs that could hold only three or four people โ all were preserved.
LINGLONG’s Chef Jason Liu seems to deeply understand this wisdom of “preservation.” The techniques may be modern, but the roots of every dish โ Chinese cuisine’s understanding of terroir, its reverence for nature and ingredients, and the pursuit of “harmony” and “balance” โ all remain.
After being seated, I found myself surrounded by the “Mystery Script” screens.
In the Zhou Dynasty, xuan (black tinged with red) symbolized the sky, while xun (crimson) symbolized the earth. The solemn pairing of red and black creates a visually striking space. Only later did I realize just how perfectly this set of screens, chosen by Chef Jason Liu for the restaurant, aligns with his philosophy โ the artist collective ้ณๆฑ็ปๅ Yangjiang Group integrates Chinese calligraphy into contemporary art installations and photography, subverting its traditional modes of presentation; Chef Jason Liu, in turn, preserves the core essence of Chinese cuisine while simultaneously subverting it, endowing LINGLONG with the profundity of Chinese culinary culture alongside a touch of playful irreverence.
‘Freshness’ takes center stage โ a dual delight of land and sea
Soft-shell turtle jelly, served with Sichuan pepper sauce, turtle skirt, jellyfish, cilantro, and diced vegetables. As someone who usually avoids soft-shell turtle, my first bite was: “Thank goodness โ it doesn’t taste like turtle!” The springy, chilled jelly contrasted beautifully in texture with the crisp jellyfish and vegetables. The aromatic spice and gentle numbing heat of the Sichuan pepper effectively masked any potential earthiness from the turtle, waking up the palate.
For the second amuse-bouche, a cocoa tart shell filled with porcini ice cream, topped with thinly sliced button mushrooms arranged like a rose and dusted with mushroom powder. In one bite, the roasted nuttiness of the cocoa powder and the earthy aroma of the mushrooms came together in perfect harmony, like a woodland symphony. Texturally, the crunchy tart shell paired with the silky porcini ice cream offered a delightful contrast โ another thoughtfully crafted bite.
Chicken soup with sea clams, seemingly unassuming but meticulously prepared. Three-year-old Tangshan chickens were dried for three days to create “chicken ham” โ the Jinhua ham traditionally used to infuse chicken broth became the chicken itself. The three-year-old hen, aged through a Chinese-style “dry-aging” process, lost moisture, concentrated in flavor, and developed a layer of savory, ham-like richness and subtle nuttiness through fat oxidation, resulting in a broth that was both pure and exceptionally flavorful. The Zhanggang sea clams come from one of only two regions in the world โ the other being Venice โ that produce premium-quality clams, with naturally sweet and exceptionally crisp flesh.
Cured lobster (cooked via sous-vide) served with ice cream radish and Shawu radish, alongside a jelly made from 10-year-old Kuaiji Shaoxing wine and shrimp essence. The sous-vide lobster was predictably tender and juicy, though I didn’t quite perceive the “cured” aspect of the preparation โ what came through was mostly the pure flavor of the lobster itself. Paired with the jelly, the rich aroma of the Shaoxing wine dominated completely, and with the jelly’s texture, it didn’t quite meld seamlessly with the lobster. The two radishes felt somewhat superfluous.
Braised fish maw, Parmesan chicken jus, potato gnocchi, cheese crisps, with a sprinkle of aged tangerine peel powder. The most interesting aspect of this dish was its multi-layered textures: the sticky, gelatinous mouthfeel of the braised fish maw, the soft chewiness of the gnocchi, and the crunchy crispiness of the cheese chips. LINGLONG specially customizes domestic Parmigiano-Reggiano made from cow’s milk as the sauce base, but regrettably, its chemical reaction with the chicken broth wasn’t entirely harmonious โ likely because the ten-month-aged cheese, when heated and emulsified into the broth, had its natural fermentation acidity amplified, making the sauce somewhat noticeably sour. Compared to the largely ineffective tangerine peel powder, perhaps fresh citrus zest might have made the dish lighter and more balanced?
The server opened a cookbook of famous Shanghai dishes recorded by a Japanese author in the 1970sโ80s โ the signature dish of Dongfeng Restaurant, revived and reborn in the very same location. The deboned upper half of a chicken leg was stuffed with preserved mustard greens and shark’s fin. The exterior was piping hot and crispy, and when bitten into, the filling burst with umami. The lower half held another surprise โ the chicken wrapped a squid and shrimp paste, with a wonderfully springy texture.
The horsehead fish was prepared using the Japanese tategai-yaki (scale-up grilling) technique, served with a yuxiang (fish-fragrant) sauce and shrimp paste foam. The fish was flawless: the scales stood upright, golden and crispy, exuding the irresistible aroma of fried food, while the flesh was perfectly medium-rare, exceptionally tender. Transitioning from the light shrimp paste foam to the richer, thicker yuxiang sauce, the interplay of salty, sweet, sour, spicy, and umami was utterly addictive!
The spice and umami of the yuxiang horsehead fish lingered in the mouth โ and at this point, the light sweetness of the hand-brewed cold-brew tea plus hot tea served as an excellent bridge, preparing the palate for the upcoming courses.
Perfectly executed pigeon dish! The skin was paper-thin, shattering crisply in the mouth; the subcutaneous fat had been completely rendered out, leaving no trace of greasiness. The high-temperature frying sealed in the juices of the meat, preserving its tenderness. The refreshing fruity aroma of green plum and citron, with their gentle acidity and sweetness, heightened the palate’s perception of umami and paired beautifully with the poultry.
Wagyu beef (additional +298 RMB), highlighting the natural flavors of oyster and beef. The oyster sauce was made from Chinese oysters, “slow-cooked for an extended period using traditional methods” to maximize the concentration of the oysters’ natural umami. This was used to marinate ๅฑฑไธ่ถ
็ Shandong beef*, which was then deep-fried to a crispy exterior and roasted to medium-rare. With each bite, the Maillard reaction came through first โ an aromatic blend of toasted bread, caramel, nuts, and roasted meat. The meeting of glutamates from the meat and nucleotides from the seafood created a pure and ultimate umami experience.
*Using Luxi yellow cattle as the maternal line and Japanese Wagyu frozen semen as the paternal line, after two generations of crossbreeding and optimized selection to produce superior Chinese beef.
Chef Jason Liu’s tribute to childhood โ a humble, heartwarming bowl of beef noodles. Having grown up in Taiwan, the flavor profile leaned toward the sweeter side. I could understand the chef’s philosophy behind this one: no matter how far you go, a bowl of noodles can always pull you back to some ordinary yet precious day. But as the finale to a tasting menu, it left me a bit at a loss. Neither the flavor nor the texture of the beef stood out particularly. Deep down, I wished the meal had ended with the previous two main courses โ at that point, my palate had already reached its peak, and the beef noodles, which you can find anywhere, brought that climax to an abrupt halt.
Before the beef noodles arrived, the server came with a fruit basket, asking us to choose which fresh fruit we’d like for our sorbet of the day. I chose citron. Shortly after finishing the noodles, the sorbet was served. The bright citrus freshness and subtle acidity of the citron sorbet cut through the richness and aftertaste of the beef noodles โ a true palate cleanser.
A honey trio. The top layer of black honey brittle offered a satisfying ‘crunch’ and a sweetness interwoven with caramel and butter; the honey sourdough cake was soft and tender; and in the center, the cliff-honey core burst open. Sweet without being cloying, with a faint floral aroma. Three layers, three textures. Accompanying the desserts was a speaker playing the buzzing sound of bees โ it left my head a little dazed, and I secretly thought, perhaps that’s a bit too immersiveโฆ
Some delightfully unconventional petit fours โ a new interpretation of a shared childhood memory for many Chinese people. The “wallet” contained specially made coins infused with the scent of HUALUSHUI, which could be inserted into LINGLONG’s music box to exchange for any four petit fours. A warm and endearing interactive touch, reminding me of an ordinary summer day from my childhood, when my grandmother โ who had applied HUALUSHUIโ would pull coins from her wallet and hand them to me to buy some snacks.
The service at LINGLONG had a rhythm that felt like a gently unfolding narrative. The pacing between courses, the timing of table clearing โ everything was just right. There were no interruptions mid-conversation with a friend as the next dish arrived. Every front-of-house staff member was highly professional โ they didn’t recite scripts, but could clearly explain techniques, ingredients, and even small details you wouldn’t find elsewhere. The manager in the suit would always crouch down to maintain eye level when speaking with seated guests. My friend and I both agreed that Manager Vincent’s explanations were essentially the final piece of the puzzle for this meal. He always appeared at just the right moment, filling in a small, thoughtful detail that Chef Jason Liu had hidden in a dish โ just enough to make the meal feel complete.
Techniques change. Plating changes. Ingredients change. Presentation changes. But the reverence for terroir, the pursuit of harmony, and the commitment to one’s roots remain unchanged. I thought again of the meticulously restored century-old elevator beside LINGLONG โ different hands, in different eras, doing the same thing: safeguarding what is worth preserving.
Dining experience on April 27, 2026.ย
