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The rating scale of 0 to 100 reflects our editors’ appraisals of all the tangible and intangible factors that make a restaurant or bar great — or terrible — regardless of price. Since it opened 42 years ago on Mott Street, Peking Duck House has been the city’s foremost exponent of Peking duck, with another branch in Midtown. Shanghai-born founder Wun Yin Wu is still the owner and chef, helped along by his extended family.
Café China
Not a bad thing, really, though I wondered if some interloper would turn, grab a slice, and scamper away. Very few will find in the heart of Chinatown neighborhood a place to not only enjoy great food, but to also remove themselves from the normally erratic neighborhood. After 20 plus years of being in the business, in 2004, our Chinatown location was given a well deserved modern makeover. Transforming our exterior framework into a delicate balance of steel, glass and wood trimmings and giving our interior some needed color, texture and personality. Upon stepping through the front door, you will be delighted by the combined arrangements of floral, textiles and lighting. Ambiant lighting in the back dresses the main floor, while a softer single light hung above the side tables are meant for the more intimate dinners.
Fried Pork Dumplings
The duck usually comes sliced, accompanied by a julienne of scallions and cucumbers, hoisin or other bean-based sauce, and a steamer of pancakes, or sometimes folded bao instead. The Peking duck was served in steamed clamshell buns. The waiter did the assembling while we watched, creating little sandwiches with scallions sticking out every which way, the porcupine look.
Sweet and Sour Chicken
You can probably guess the first - this place serves really good Peking duck. The long menu has lots of other options (like dim sum, mala chicken, and a giant plate of seafood with scallops and shrimp), but you come here for the juicy, crispy duck that’s carved tableside. The second thing to know about this Chinatown spot is that it’s BYOB. Combine the two, and you get a pretty ideal group dinner option. The two-floor space has a bunch of big tables for large parties, but this place is very popular, so you should make a reservation by phone ahead of time. The duck was big, fat, and golden, lovely enough to pose for a poultry portrait.
Lobster in Hot Spicy Sauce
It was known as Peking until the second half of the twentieth century, when so much changed under the Communist government. But even the Commies knew enough not to mess with the name of the duck. What I find fascinating about Beijing is that it has been a political capital of China for centuries, has a population of more than 20 million, and yet Peking duck is the only great dish ever conceived there.
Sliced Jellyfish
Soon a platter of perfectly fanned meat and skin was delivered, along with a metal bowl of cucumbers and scallions and a reservoir of hoisin. Finally, a filigreed metal steamer of flaky wheat pancakes arrived and the waiter doffed the lid, sending up a plume of steam that fogged our glasses. The pancakes were outsized — a detail the restaurant is famous for — and so perfectly formed and stacked that we hesitated to remove the first one.
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It was carved tableside, the slices fanned out on a plate in artful little packages. Each piece contained meat, skin, and, unfortunately, an abundance of fat. Perhaps that's not a mistake to Chow, who has his own ways of thinking about Chinese food. The pancakes were wonders—light, delicate, strong, easily the best. The hoisin was dark, thick, and very sweet, rather overwhelming, although perhaps not if you're slathering it on all that fat.
An unsmiling cook wearing a big toque will cut large, even slices, but he will make no effort to remove the fat. One pal came bearing a bottle of pink Spanish cava, which turned out to be a perfect celebratory beverage, bubbles tickling our noses as we ate a meal comprising three courses. But how would the ritual of the dish be translated into sidewalk service, we wondered as we sat down, popped the cork, and began enjoying ourselves in earnest. The dish is likely six or seven centuries old, and is among the foremost culinary accomplishments of the Chinese capital. Fresh scallops lightly sauteed in ma-la Szechuan spices. Jumbo prawns flash-fried to perfection done and finished in a refreshing sauce with a hint of citrus.
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Most of the flavor was delivered by the scallions and the sauce. The pancakes came in steamer baskets, but they were too firm and so small a friend described them as "Pringles." Scallions, cucumbers, and hoisin arrived in a three-part ceramic dish. The duck had been carved and reassembled, meat on the bottom and fat-free skin layered over the top, a meticulous process that probably accounted for the skin being cold and flabby. The sections of skin had been poorly cut and required yanking to pull apart. The meat was moist and tender, with hints of spices, the best I had.
When I tell friends that, most ignore me and stuff the meat in with the skin. Next came scallion pancakes ($5.95), intended to help us carbo-load further before the duck arrived, like athletes preparing for a sprint. The two small, thick pancakes, well browned, were not the thin and flaky flatbreads we’d expected, but good nonetheless. At the same time, our vegetable component arrived, a magnificent platter of baby bok choy and black mushrooms ($15.50), with a woodsy savor and a broth worth slurping afterwards. A combination of fresh scallops and crab meat, lightly sauteed in white sauce and adorned with broccoli. Sea scallops cooked until crispy, coated with a delicate, tangy, spicy sauce and served with fried bean curd.
Strips of tender filet mignon sauteed with fresh garlic sauce and adorned with broccoli. Fresh scallops, lightly fried, sauteed and topped with sesame seeds in our special oyster sauce. One neon sign in a window reads Bar, the other Open Late. The dining area is dark and rustic, with a communal table seating 22, very fifteenth century. The restroom has a Japanese toilet with a control panel, very twenty-first century. One wall features a mural, the Last Supper, with ducks instead of people.
The duck came out pre-assembled, on a platter with crunchy, multi-colored shrimp chips. The warm, steamed clamshell buns tasted fresher than most. The hoisin was thick and less sweet than usual, rather lip-smacking. The meat was slightly too salty but without fat, and the skin was fine and crisp, well above average.
Delivery up to and within 15 city streets of the restaurant.
I was there for a considerable time, because the skin was so tough I had to chew and chew. In Beijing, the restaurant Quan Ju De serves the meat as a separate course, stir-fried with vegetables, while the restaurant Bien Yi Fang serves the meat in the pancake with the skin. I'm firmly in the Quan Ju De camp, believing that the meat is at best an accessory.
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