Nine stops in Hong Kong, from salt-baked chicken worth returning for to a much-hyped sandwich I would happily skip: my candid guide to eating and drinking around Wan Chai and Central.
As a child, I thought Hong Kong looked like a city built from Lego. People moved ceaselessly through its intricate pathways to the beeping of pedestrian crossings; residences, shops, offices were packed tightly together, their styles seemingly at odds. It was not always conventionally beautiful. But that busyness and contrast were precisely what gave the city its character.
Returning after eight years, I spent most of my time in Wan Chai and Central on the northern shore of Hong Kong Island, walking close to 20,000 steps a day, largely to make room for another bite. Restaurants, bars and dessert shops that had become fixtures on rankings or social feeds were on my list. Here is what I actually thought.
Prices and practical details below reflect the original visit and may change. These are personal impressions of the meals and drinks I tried, rather than assessments of every item on each menu.
Worth a Visit
Sang Kee: Chicken Worth Coming Back For
I would return to this roughly fifty-year-old institution for the salt-baked chicken alone. The dining room has the familiar feel of a Chinese banquet restaurant: bright, tidy and filled with round tables, closely spaced without feeling too cramped. Most diners appeared to be local. The staff were not especially fluent in Mandarin, but they were wonderfully warm and friendly. On a weekday at around 8 p.m., the two of us walked in without a reservation and found a table.
We were not particularly hungry, so we ordered just two dishes: half a salt-baked chicken and squid stir-fried with water spinach and shrimp paste.
The chicken, raised for 90 days, is coated in Sang Kee’s secret marinade and hung to air-dry for several hours. Traditional salt-baking can leave parts of a bird too salty or unevenly cooked; Sang Kee has developed its own method to control temperature and timing more precisely. I do not know the exact technique. As a diner, I can only say that the texture and seasoning felt close to perfect.
The skin arrived crisp, its fat rendered into flesh that was both tender and pleasingly firm. Sand ginger sauce, with its herbal fragrance and almost imperceptible sweetness, was an ideal companion. Rich without becoming greasy, it was the sort of chicken that made putting down my chopsticks difficult.
Only the tenderest parts of the water spinach had been used: every bite was crisp and faintly sweet. The squid was supple and springy, its freshness immediately apparent. There was plenty of wok hei, that elusive aroma of a fiercely heated wok, and just enough shrimp paste to give the dish depth without making it too salty to eat on its own.
Staff sent us a complimentary plate of chilled white sugar sponge cake to finish the meal. Lightly sweet, airy and elastic, it was a simple, comforting ending with tea. There is a Cantonese expression about “chicken tasting of chicken and fish tasting of fish.” That, to me, captures the pleasure of Sang Kee.
At my visit: approximately HK$250 per person. Better suited to a group of three or more for sharing.
Address: 3/F, San Xiang Building, 353 Lockhart Road, Wan Chai.
MIAN: Thoughtful Chinese Cooking
My verdict first: if you can get a table easily, MIAN is worth trying. I would not queue or plan far in advance for it.
One part of the experience receives less attention than it deserves: the setting. From a window table, you look into the canopy of the old Cassia javanica tree between the restaurant and The Murray Hotel. Its greenery enfolds the room. A protected tree that flowers towards the end of spring, it brings a sense of continuity and nature to a thoroughly urban location.
That attentiveness to nature also runs through the cooking. Executive chef Shao Delong brings more than forty years of Chinese culinary experience, in addition to his work in hotels in Saudi Arabia, India and Singapore. His menu draws on seasonality and China’s regional traditions, with room for contemporary invention.
The baked pork chop rice with tomato and cheese became a signature after its appearance on the Chinese cooking programme 一饭封神 Yi Fan Feng Shen in 2025. At HK$298 for a half portion, its strength lies in how carefully the rice, pork and tomato sauce are prepared separately, then how well they come together. It looks familiar, but there is considerable thought beneath the surface.
Fragrant rice is mixed with a little American wild rice and fried with egg yolks. The wild rice adds chew and a faintly woody aroma, while the sauce delivers the tomato’s natural sweetness and acidity. Kagoshima Kurobuta pork has a thin, crisp coating and a juicy, firm centre. Even after baking with tomato sauce and cheese, the crust has not turned soggy: an impressive piece of timing.
After we had taken our photographs, the dish was taken away to be mixed and portioned. The separate grains absorbed the sauce; the tomato’s acidity balanced the pork fat and cheese. A perfectly runny egg completed the combination. Deeply satisfying.
The signature char siu (HK$298) was less distinctive in flavour and texture. Its point of difference was the Thai coriander served alongside, which did help cut the richness. I found myself wondering whether lemongrass, with its brighter citrus fragrance, might have brought out the pork’s sweetness even more effectively.
The Sichuan-style duo of chicken with dan dan sauce (HK$258) was more memorable. Boneless silkie and yellow-skinned chicken were reassembled into handsome, marble-like blocks. Underneath sat a sauce of sesame paste, peanut butter and a measured amount of chilli oil. Eaten alone, the chicken offered its own clean flavour; dipped in the sauce, it became richer. For a Zhejiang chef born in Sichuan, it felt like an eloquent meeting of two culinary traditions.
The fish maw soup dumpling (HK$168 per person) was predictably good: a clear but intensely savoury broth, soft fish maw that left a delicate gelatinous sensation on the lips, and a gossamer wrapper enclosing dried scallop, shrimp and other seafood. That wrapper was so thin it broke easily.
The hand-picked flower crab with Chencun rice noodles (HK$398), however, disappointing. There were perhaps only three or four substantial pieces of crab, and some shell fragments remained. The thickened egg sauce made the dish feel heavy rather than allowing the crab’s sweetness to shine. The handmade rice noodles themselves were excellent, though.
At my visit: approximately HK$900 per person.
Address: The Pavilion, The Murray, 22 Cotton Tree Drive, Central.
Little Bao: The Place I Know Will Deliver
Chef May Chow’s cooking has always had a gift for bringing Chinese and Western ideas together with playfulness and craft. She founded Little Bao in 2013 around the idea of the bao burger. Returning to its newer location, I found it even better than I remembered from eight years earlier.
The room feels more like a chill cocktail bar than a conventional restaurant, with most seats gathered around the open kitchen. The team was warm, energetic and observant, making a point of noticing how guests were getting on. Watching those plump bao come together across the counter was both soothing and appetite-inducing.
My strongest recommendation is the fried chicken bao (HK$108). The bun is fluffy with a little spring; the generous piece of chicken has a crisp, lightly toasted crust. Pick it up with both hands and the juices run down your palms.
Zhenjiang black vinegar sauce and Sichuan pepper mayonnaise bring acidity, fragrance and a gentle numbing sensation. Add a little of the chef’s house-made chilli sauce, and everything falls into place: savoury, spicy, juicy and bright, layered without becoming muddled.
At my visit: approximately HK$130 per person.
Address: 1–3 Shin Hing Street, Central.
Mius: A Room I Wanted to Return To
Not far from Little Bao, Mius was already drawing queues when I visited. Arriving before six spared me the wait. I went twice in just a few days, drawn even more by the interiors than by the cocktails. The translucent glass door and window blinds filter out the bustle of Central. Before sunset, the light catches the oak tones and gives the space a gentle warmth. Green toned Travertine behind the bar and a long metal counter introduce a cooler, more disciplined note. Further inside, a timber island leads towards a curved, earth-toned marble bar. Contrasts are everywhere, yet nothing feels forced.
Hong Kong was sweltering, so I ordered the Guava Oolong Float (HK$130): house-made guava and oolong sorbet with sparkling sake. The sorbet was silky, without icy grains, and the rounded guava flavour mingled beautifully with the tea’s slightly smoky character. Bubbles lifted the Shirayuki sake, making an appealing counterpoint to the fruit-rich sorbet.
On my second visit, the Shiso Sour—gin, shiso, pickled plum, Amontillado sherry and egg white—was a little too sweet and rich for me, although I liked its creamy texture. Still, this was a room I was very happy to sit in.
At my visit: cocktails around HK$130 each.
Address: G/F, 29 Gough Street, Central.
Snack Baby Gelato & Drinks: A Very Easy Kind of Happiness
An early drink at Mius, a fried chicken bao at Little Bao, then gelato at Snack Baby nearby: my idea of happiness is not complicated.
Part gelateria, part bar, Snack Baby has the retro charm of an Italian coffee bar. There are plenty of lactose-free and dairy-free options, alongside familiar flavours and more individual creations, and you can taste before choosing.
Across two visits, I tried roughly ten gelati and sorbets. I can honestly say I did not encounter a disappointing flavour. This is one place where I would happily let you choose on instinct.
At my visit: approximately HK$70 per person.
Address: G/F, 93–95 Hollywood Road, Central.
One I Would Skip
Paragon: The Hype Did Not Match My Experience
Paragon is the bar opened by Neighborhood chef David Lai. With Neighborhood so difficult to book, its wagyu sandwich had become a destination in its own right on Chinese social media. My mother and I arrived at around 10 p.m. on a Monday and found two seats at the bar.
Leather seating, marble tables, wooden record cabinets and dim amber light created a beautiful vintage mood. The seats were close together, and conversation sometimes drowned out the music, but visually there was much to admire.
The wagyu and cheese sandwich was another matter. Tenderness and juiciness are the least I expect from good wagyu; the seasoning struck me as bland. The bread and cheese tasted ordinary. A crisp crust and melted cheese—the qualities so enthusiastically praised online—are things a competent grilled cheese should already deliver.
Then there was the service. My mother, who is allergic to alcohol and rarely visits bars, politely asked whether she had to order a drink when nothing on the menu appealed to her. The male bartender replied, “Everyone has to order. We’re a bar.” I found the delivery cold and faintly mocking.
I understand a one-drink-per-person policy. What bothered me was the manner of the response, particularly when the drinks themselves did not impress me. My martini lacked dimension, and there were only four mocktails to choose from.
From our seats, we could also see the partially screened food-preparation and washing-up area, including a rubbish bin. That visible back-of-house clutter jarred with the polished experience I expected from a bar positioned this way.
If You’re Nearby
Bakehouse by Grégoire Michaud
Staying in Wan Chai made Bakehouse an easy breakfast stop. Early in the morning, there was no queue. The laminated pastries, including croissants and kouign-amann, had good, crisp layers—as you might expect from a baker with Grégoire Michaud’s background in hotels and fine dining.
The sourdough egg tart was sweet without being excessive, with a crisp, layered shell. I thought it could stand comparison with the tarts at Lisbon’s venerable Pastéis de Belém. A very pleasant neighbourhood breakfast, without the need to turn it into an expedition.
C Dessert
There seems to be endless discussion about which shop is the “real” successor to Chung So’s desserts. One account points to C Dessert in Wan Chai as the founding family’s new venture. I am not sure the debate matters very much to the bowl in front of you.
The signature shaved ice, advertised as containing 62 longans, tasted convincingly of real fruit, without an artificial flavour. Sago pearls and chewy coconut jelly added contrasting textures. Good, rather than extraordinary; I would stop if I were passing and there were no queue.
On the Hill Coffee Bar—and a Walk Around Tai Kwun
On the Hill Coffee Bar is tucked into a former prison space at Tai Kwun, the restored Central Police Station compound. More than the food or coffee, it is the unusual prospect of eating inside a former cell that makes the place intriguing.
On my previous trip to Hong Kong, Tai Kwun was still being restored. This time, I found the whole complex a delightful surprise: a place where traces of history and contemporary life coexist.
Former police, prison and magistracy buildings now house galleries, exhibitions, shops and restaurants. Rather than becoming an abandoned relic, the compound has become a cultural landmark that invites people of different ages to explore.
The restoration received the Award of Excellence in the 2019 UNESCO Asia-Pacific Awards for Cultural Heritage Conservation. It reminded me of Rockbund in Shanghai: somewhere to look closely at how a city can give its older spaces another life. Come for the curiosity of the café, perhaps, but leave time to wander.
Adapted into English from my original Chinese article on WeChat.
