db Eats: Manchurian Legends

We entered just gone past seven and yet the place was full save for our reserved table; this in a newly opened restaurant speaks volumes.

Manchurian Legends is part of the Restaurant Privilege chain, who run a number of established London Oriental restaurants including City Chinese and Empress of Sichuan, and yet as my companion and restaurant regular, Gabriel Savage, said, “It doesn’t feel like a chain.”

The decor is the first thing one notices and theirs was no exception. The black and white tiles are reminiscent of an American diner but there were no Western-style meals here, most definitely not a place for fried eggs sunny-side up and a milkshake with two straws.

The Chinese photographs remind the visitor, if need be, that they are here for an authentic meal. My companion described much of the food as “hearty” – appropriate to its Dongbei origins, a part of China where the food needs to be stomach-lining in order to cope with its cold climate. Of course, this did not deter us from over-ordering from almost every part of the menu.

Wine and spicy food can be a tricky match and, despite a small range of wines on offer, no-one else in the restaurant had taken this path. My companion went for a Tsingtao beer while I tried my hand at a cold soya bean milk drink. Not exactly thrilling but these two are the drinks to pick for spice as the beer’s low acidity avoids the clash that wine can present here and the milk’s fattiness offers a useful protective coating for the tongue.

Speaking of bodily parts, the service was so quick that we had barely started sipping when my companion’s fried pig ears arrived. Though a vegetarian, I could appreciate the beauty of them laid out like a plate of fine charcuterie. The crunchy cartilage was good, even tasty, along with the slightly rubbery overall texture. Hardly on her third of many ears, my prettily laid-out pancakes, with a spiced, herbal sauce on the side, were laid before us. They were mild and that was what I boringly desired. More importantly, though, the plain carbohydrates, though uninspiring on their own, are useful to counterbalance the main dishes’ spices.

Twice cooked belly pork was almost reassuringly familiar, arriving in its metal dish kept heated by a low flame. Cut into thin strips streaked with veins of juicy fat; it was compared by my eating partner to bacon but bacon that “makes the back of your throat tickle and nose run a bit”. My egg and chive dumplings’ insides were very nice but I must admit that the cover was a bit soft and wet. If one doesn’t mind losing some dignity with a dinner companion or restaurant staff then I recommend opening it up and having just the insides. Spring rolls arrived, just one of the several more predictable dishes for the offal-shy.

My egg and leek noodle dish had a rich leek flavour that made one want mouthful after mouthful, with which I certainly complied. Its slightly salty taste didn’t make one rush for a drink as such but, like all other components, I was glad there was one near. As if we hadn’t ordered enough, the chef sent through pork rib skewers on the house that were dusted with complementing sesame and cumin, creating the impression that “if the Middle East did pork, you’d think you were in Damascus.” These would normally only cost £1.50 a skewer thus brilliant if only wanting a light meal.

Though we did not venture it, there is a Manchurian Special Hot Pot for at least two, incredibly brave, people at £23.50 a head. The eater has two hours to eat as much as he can of seemingly every part of an animal that is deemed eatable. It has the good incentive/warning that you will have an extra charge for food wastage. This is clearly for those who have a lot of guts due to guts of pig being a major component of the deal. Indeed I felt that, despite trying to order a little of everything, there was so much more yet to be tried.

All in all, everything was clean, quick and generously portioned. The meal was an enjoyable one with plenty of scope to pick spice levels according to one’s own taste buds, ensuring that everyone can find delectable dishes. With £56 spent but one bulging doggy bag to go, Manchurian Legends is certainly a place to go to for the real deal.

12 Macclesfield Street, London, W1D 5BP.

+44 (0) 20 7437 8785