I ate at London’s best Chinatown restaurant – my leftovers tell the real story

Four Seasons

I went to Chinatown’s best Chinese restaurant (Image: Lucy Williamson )

As the Year of the Snake looms, Londoners are all asking the same question: where to celebrate?

For Chinese New Year, or Lunar New Year, I found myself in Soho’s Chinatown, beneath twinkling lanterns and amidst the aroma of incense blending with sizzling woks.

I visited one of the most buzzed-about locations; Four Seasons on Gerrard Street, crowned as Chinatown’s best restaurant by VisitLondon. But does it meet expectations? My leftovers reveal the truth.

This shares its name with the luxury hotel chain, but that’s where the similarities cease – and that’s part of this place’s allure, reports .

Nestled on Gerrard Street, it’s everything you’d want from a Chinatown staple: a cacophony of sizzling woks, quick-footed waitstaff, and an aromatic onslaught that engulfs you like a tasty tsunami. The organised mayhem is part of its charm.

:

Four Seasons

The food portions are pretty big (Image: Lucy Williamson )

The menu boasts the usual dishes – including sweet and sour, lemon, and black bean sauces – but the must-try dishes here are the three cornerstones of Cantonese cuisine: roast duck, char siu pork and crispy pork.

While I can’t personally vouch for their globally-renowned duck (which, according to the Financial Times, is the world’s best), I can rave about the vegetarian options that had me joyfully shimmying in my chair.

The braised mixed vegetables with tofu (£13.80) is comfort food that feels like a cosy embrace from your favourite auntie.

Don’t miss… [STEW] [AVOCADO] [CHEESE]

Four Seasons

I went to Chinatown for Chinese New Year (Image: Lucy Williamson )

The dumplings (£8 for 4) are delightful little bundles of joy, and the house special fried noodles (£14.80) are so plentiful that they’ll cover both lunch and a midnight snack. Believe me, finding such generous portions in Central London is as rare as a quiet moment outside Brixton tube station.

You can complement your meal with a Chinese tea (£2.80). I left with plenty of leftovers. Perfect. However, don’t expect to linger over your Chinese tea – when it’s busy, those meaningful looks from the staff aren’t admiration for your chopstick skills.

They might just be eyeing up your table to hand it to a family of five. Let’s face it – you’re not getting VIP treatment here.

The service style is more “efficiency is our middle name” than “let me tell you about our hand-foraged mushrooms.”

But when the food tastes this good, they could practically throw it at you and you’d still come back for more. In conclusion, while other restaurants in the area might be busy fusion-ing their way into confusion, Four Seasons sticks to what it knows: traditional Chinese cuisine done so well it makes you wonder why anyone would try to reinvent the wheel (or should I say Lazy Susan).

In a city where restaurants often try to be everything to everyone, Four Seasons is content being exactly what it is: a Chinatown stalwart that proves sometimes the old ways are the best ways. Just don’t expect to make it your new remote working spot – this place is for eating and eating only.

Related Posts


This will close in 0 seconds