JUQI

Ju Qi Captures the Culture of Beijing | The New Yorker

"Tucked inside the new luxury Tangram mall in Flushing, I encountered a theatrical Beijing-themed dining experience created by Tong Han, who opened the first Ju Qi in 2014 and now has twenty locations in China and one in Sydney. In the foyer we raided bowls of complimentary treats — foil-wrapped haw flakes and brown-sugar–glazed ma hua — handed out with obvious pride, and the dining room, built with bricks shipped from Beijing and inspired by hutong alleyways, overflows with bird imagery: birdhouse light fixtures and a large gilded-cage table for big groups. The centerpiece is a whole Peking duck carved tableside by a chef with the precision of a surgeon: lacquered skin is sliced into postage-stamp–sized segments, each set on a square of steamed bread and topped with sturgeon caviar, while a server produces tiny drawers of hoisin, scallions, cucumber matchsticks, pickles, and honeydew and demonstrates how to wrap them into bing pancakes plucked from a bamboo steamer. The duck’s carcass can be crisp-fried or simmered into a fragrant cloudy soup with silken tofu and tender greens; I preferred the soup, though both honor the clingy meat and fat. The oversized tablet menu is full of surprising items: a hand-painted mashed potato shaped like Lord Rabbit (a.k.a. Mr. Rabbit) standing in honey-mustard that charms more than it flavors; delicate threads of shredded potato hiding fried potato cubes, millet, scallion greens, garlic, and melty bits of fried pork fat; and a bowl of chewy, wavy hand-pulled zhajiangmian slicked with minced pork and fermented soybean paste and studded with boiled soybeans, peanuts, pine nuts, cucumber, and green radish. Desserts double as stunts — a mah-jongg board with trompe-l’oeil yellow-pea–paste pieces — while the simple Beijing-style yogurt, custardy and tangy with a gloss of honey and dusting of pollen, is the most memorable sweet. The restaurant also runs a late-night spicy menu until 5 a.m. and marks birthdays with parchment scrolls written by staff in Qing-dynasty garb; dishes range roughly from $6 to $109." - Hannah Goldfield