Royal China: A Class Act of Perfection

Located on the lower ground floor of the exclusive Chanakya Mall, amid the leafy calm of Chanakyapuri, ‘Royal China’ remains one of the capital’s more refined addresses for Chinese dining. Understated in design and self-assured, it draws a crowd that values discretion over dazzle. One enters not to be impressed by novelty, but to settle into a familiar elegance -linen-draped tables, soft light and the slow, unhurried ceremony of a well-run dining room.

Our evening began with a warm welcome and the gentle hush of an early table. For a mid-week sitting, the restaurant was buzzing. Service, it must be said, was polished throughout: attentive without intrusion, quietly perceptive. The menu, when presented, promised a rich arc of flavours. While not every dish was available that evening - a minor inconvenience - staff handled the matter with tact and sincere apologies, steering us toward the kitchen’s strengths.

A greater frustration, though still gently borne, was the bar’s lack of vermouth, which rendered a classic Martini request unfulfillable. Shaken but not stirred, we opted for a yuzu cosmopolitan which proved to be a worthy stand-in. Crisp and aromatic, it was an unexpected delight.

What followed was a masterclass in dim sum. The roast duck dumplings were richly satisfying, with a depth of flavour that hinted at long, slow cooking and a whisper of warm spice. The prawn rolls were textbook in execution: delicate, translucent wrappers enveloping fresh, sweet prawns, their flavour shining through with quiet confidence. It was the dim sum of remarkable finesse, each morsel a small triumph of balance and restraint.

For the main course, we shared the Kung Pao prawns and a fish fillet with spring onion and ginger. The prawns arrived sizzling, tossed in a glossy sauce that walked the line between sweet and spicy with assurance. The peanuts added texture and the dried chillies just enough heat. The fish, simply pan-cooked, was a lighter counterpoint - flaky and fragrant, with the ginger and spring onion offering a clean, understated lift.

My partner had been eyeing the chocolate bomb all evening and when it arrived, it didn’t disappoint. A pour of hot sauce collapsed its dark shell to reveal layers of mousse, sponge and praline. Rich, sweet and dramatically presented, it satisfied. Yet the star was, unexpectedly, the sesame pancakes - a quieter dish by far, but one of the best we tasted. Lightly crisp, faintly nutty and modest in its sweetness, it left the most lasting impression.

Despite the occasional unavailability of certain dishes, ‘Royal China’ remains a class act. It is a restaurant that knows what it does well - and when it delivers, as it so often does, the experience is quietly memorable.

In the end, it was the smaller details - the attentive service, the clarity of the dim sum, the unexpected brilliance of a yuzu cocktail - that lingered.