Chao Dian
三里屯19号, 三里屯Village南区S6号楼S6-32
Talk with Local Businesses for Free
Ask for information, make a reservation, and much more ...
- Enter your phone number
- Wait a couple seconds
- Pick up and talk!
- If calling from a Chinese mobile number just enter full number.
- If calling from a Chinese landline please enter district number and then number.
Please Sign in to use this function.
Send the Info to Your Mobile
Get the address in Chinese and English, phone #, and more ...
- Enter your phone number
- Wait for an SMS
- Never get lost again!
Please Sign in to use this function.
While the dim sum at this Village restaurant is a bit uninspiring, the Hong Kong milk tea is spot on, and the service is courteous, efficient and knowledgeable. Of the formidable number of options on the menu, the taro cake and steamed dried scallops with vegetable dumplings are safe bets.
Sum of Its Parts
Dim sum fanatics that we are, we were ecstatic to learn that a restaurant hawking these classic Hong Kong goodies was coming to The Village, right in our proverbial backyard. Unfortunately, after a couple trips here, we still find ourselves wondering whether this spot has what it takes.
Is service the problem? Nope, we found the waiters and waitresses courteous, efficient and knowledgeable. What about the decor? Although the individual elements might seem like an unusual combination at first blush (exposed duct work, walls that alternate between mirrors and wooden paneling, odd rectangular-shaped hanging lights), together they fuse, somehow, into a comfortable whole.
No, the problem at this place is the food. Of the 11 separate dishes we ordered over two visits, only two (the taro rice cake and steamed dried scallops with vegetables dumpling; both ¥12) could be called best-in-class. Dim sum standards like steamed pork BBQ buns (¥10), shao-mai (¥16) and steamed Shanghai soup buns (¥10) failed to achieve the delicate balance between vibrant taste, piping-hot temperature and exquisite texture that makes for good dim sum. Crispy durian pastries (¥16) didn’t do enough to neutralize the odoriferous durian flavor, while a near-room-temperature order of baked BBQ pork pastries (¥10) packed none of the exhilarating tug-of-war between sweet and savory so prominent in the best versions of the dish.
All wasn’t unremitting bleakness. The Hong Kong milk tea (¥13) was spot on, as much like what you’d find in HK as any we’ve had in Beijing. And while the dim sum we had were mostly uninspiring, the formidable number of options on offer (37 by our count) allows for future dining discoveries.
Matt Schrader

