"Heaven, I'm in heaven," she sings, "And the cares that hung around me through the week, seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak…" Piano notes plink gaily as we bite into satiny goose liver terrine touched with sake, a most unusual and delicate foie gras, just kissed with the astringency of liquor. Amidst the decadent European art deco at Tiandi Shanghai (Contemporary Chinese), cares do float away. The broth in a shark’s fin soup is thick from ages of boiling. White-gloved staff are ever hovering with new plates.

Old Shanghai is the New Shanghai. Dozens of venues strive to re-create that naughty yet sumptuous era of dance halls and deco palaces. Yet few succeed like this.

The jazz band's double bass and clarinet swing along with singer Miranda Lee's lively, warm-toned voice. Grilled cod in sweet soya sauce is juicy and sticky. Sherbets infused with hawthorn, Ovaltine, White Rabbit candy, and salty-soda popsicle compel guests to reminisce on childhood flavors. The pace of music picks up, the candles are lit–it's Friday night and we are lalala-ing along to a jazz beat of old flavors and memories.

Across town is Xian Qiang Fang (Shanghainese), another extraordinary recreation of sepia-tinged days. Giant yellow silk lanterns and art deco wall lamps illuminate stone and marble floors, and a profusion of waiters in double-breasted wool vests. Time stopped here, round about 70 years back, on one particularly luxuriant evening of classical entertainment and mild delicacies.

Live shrimp are tossed into a scorching pot on our table; steam rises, and the shrimp, unquestionably fresh, express their flavor. On stage, Beijing opera players in magnificent costume perform to live flute and clashing gongs. "The suspicion and slander of women is hard to resist," chortles an eager suitor, "if you are a fairy why not talk with me at the hotel ahead, to confirm our relationship?" Completing my total immersion in the scene is a neighboring table of distinguished-looking older women conversing in American English and old-fashioned Shanghainese, a dialect used decades ago.

The suitor pursues his beloved. "There she is sweet and shy," he sings. "Why doesn’t she tell the truth; we have met each other? The music spreads with the wind. Am I still in a dream?"

View all my latest articles under my Dining Blog - The Dish