"At A. Wong, time is money, and time is always of the essence. The Chinese fine dining restaurant’s evening tasting menu is a 32-course marathon that both opens the throttle and bores you stiff. It’s a long-haul flight that wants to take you across all 14 of China’s borders, but leaves you imprisoned in Victoria with morsels of occasionally worthwhile food. The room, like one of Martha Stewart’s pet peacocks, is both opulent and sadly dishevelled. But any seat inside is better than the triggering lockdown-era shack you enter through. None of it is old per se; it’s just out-of-date. Meanwhile the crowd—either wealthy, celebratory, or both—have been lured in by the age-old trap of two stars which are marked next to the door. Expensive champagne is offered. Dietaries are checked. And, soon after, plates begin to appear. Lots of plates. Char siu pork with grated foie gras. A bite of Yunnan sweet potato. One Shanghai soup dumpling. Every course (of which there are six) comprises multiple dishes which all come at once, leaving your table looking like a lavishly plated tasting for mice. This far-reaching menu of Chinese cuisine is definitely ambitious. It’s also overly long and lukewarm by the time you eat it. A fundamental part of the A. Wong experience is learning about the food in front of you as it steadily begins to congeal. There are explanations that add little, before dishes are whisked away for multiple servers to hastily dissect them in dark corners. At one point, an iPad appears to show the process of making pulled noodles (as said noodle cracker sits in front of you). In 2014 this was probably cool. Now, it’s just another screen interrupting real life. Nothing we’ve eaten here tastes bad. There's just too much of it served at once to be truly memorable. The moreish savoury wagyu tartare and a gong bao chicken tart with Sichuan hot pot essence stand out. But mostly, things blur. A cold piece of sweet and sour chicken. Another gratuitous slice of black truffle. Some foamy dumplings. The a la carte dim sum lunch is a little better, if only because you have more control, but it still doesn't feel particularly special. At the end of dinner, a server will present you with a postcard and a pen. Write a message and it will be sent anywhere in the world. Should you dissuade friends and family? Or make a reservation for your most impatient nemesis? Because with wine, dinner at A. Wong is north of £100 per hour. And for that price, this clunky experience feels like a waste of time. " - Jake Missing
