1995. A hot summer night on the packed terrace of Bloor Street Diner in the Manulife Center. Al Waxman over-expresses himself with a fling of his arm and—thwack—a wine glass vaults from the server’s hand for a double twirl into the air, and then falls, dousing a British gentleman’s starched, smart-casual white shirt. He is not amused.
Apologies, good humour, introductions and conversation brought a coincidence to light: that very day I had received a press release about these two men at the table. Henry Wu had purchased the newly named Metropolitan Hotel and the Brit was to be the General Manager. Wu confided that he was planning a Chinese restaurant for the Hotel. “Please,” I urged, “Can you create a splendid Chinese restaurant like Lai Ching Heen at the Regent Hotel in Hong Kong.” Mr. Wu replied: "I plan to do exactly that." From an awkward mishap, a friendship was born.
And so, Lai Wah Heen opened, serving elevated Chinese cuisine with elegant French formal service on uniquely designed tableware—a culinary experience previously unknown at a Chinese restaurant in Toronto. I brought Gourmet Magazine for dinner, and they gave it a #1 in the country, then New York Times named it “Best Chinese Restaurant in North America.” Under Restaurant Manager, Canson Tsang service became the gold standard. Alas, all good things must end. For twenty-eight remarkable years, Lai Wah Heen dazzled—until its closure in 2023.
Lai Wah Heen is baaaack! It has re-appeared like an oasis in the desert. We step out of the elevator on the second floor of the Hilton DoubleTree and into a suite of rooms that feels at once modern and steeped in the elegance of Shanghai or Hong Kong. Everywhere the eye lingers, there is opulence balanced with restraint. In a downtown landscape of beautiful-but-uniform restaurants, this space is truly a surprise.
I settle into a luxe curved leather booth, admiring the extravagant bar, its glass shelves glittering with rare spirits. The cocktail list intrigues, so I place myself in the hands of the Bar Manager—confident, charismatic, instantly trustworthy. My Star Ferry Spritz of gin, prosecco and yuzu arrives, garnished with edible flowers. My dinner companion’s Initiation is an intriguing elixir of sesame oil-washed gin with baiju, yuzu, cucumber and soy sauce served in a tea cup; a spritely palate-opener serving as an exciting portent of what is to come.
On a magical mystery tour, the owners made a search throughout China and hired two young, smart chefs. Heyden Sin and Huang Zhenging. Will they thrill us with new and exciting renditions and recast the traditional Cantonese dishes into modern and dramatic presentations? Or will they play it safe with the traditional golden oldies? We get our answers soon enough. As I sip my cocktail, hoping my memories of the past won’t be shattered, I glance sideways. It’s rude to stare, but impossible not to—the neighboring tables overflow with eye-catching dishes. “We’ll have what they’re having.”
And so arrives our Guangzhou Chow Mein as a tower of noodles, accompanied by the intricacies of an extravagant portion of prawn, scallop, crab and grouper, that proves to be more than generous deliciousness for three of us. Chock full of seafood, each item maintains its optimal texture for a confluence of crunch and delicate but meaty fish. I’m thinking that this could be my favorite dish.
Our Peking Duck aficionado has staked a claim. The duck, showcased like a star, is brought for approval, then quickly whisked away to be presented on a tray as crepes filled with melon and cucumber batons, topped with a divine slice of lacquer-crisped duck with caviar. Words fail me—almost. The surprise of contrasting textures, flavours and pristine style of easily getting that crackling crisp duck into our mouths is brilliant. It is reminiscent of sushi, but decidedly Chinese. The second course of Iceberg lettuce cut to size like small bowls are piled high with flavour-rich minced duck, pine nuts, a table-side shaving of black truffle, and other tiny crunchy bits. This duck duo is my favorite dish.
Canadian Prime Rib-eye, wok-seared with garlic chips and Brussels sprouts arrives, redolent with aromas of exotic seasoning emanating from a saucy dish of amazingly tender beef, and charred Brussels sprouts thankfully not overcooked. Scanning the menu for a vegetable dish, we order sweet and sour lion’s mane fritters. These juicy fritters share the plate with tomato confit and have the added surprise of candied hawthorn berry. They come sequestered under a lacy spun sugar dome that begs to be chipped and tasted. We admire the inventiveness of this dish, but feel the kitchen is too heavy handed with the thickness of the fry, muffling the majesty of the lion's mane in breading. The kitchen uses fresh produce from the owner's organic Ontario farm for a unique farm-to-table experience, and shops local for Canadian Prime beef, heritage-bred pork, and seafood mostly sourced from within Canada.
Tantalizing dishes that I've listed in my little black book for "next time" are: Braised Canadian Prime Short Rib with Hong Kong Oyster Sauce and Cabernet Sauvignon; and Whole Lobster, Sichuan peppercorn and silken Tofu. Still, there is always a little corner of my appetite saved for dessert. The kitchen has taken some of my favorite fruits: Mango, Pomelo and Strawberry, and created a luxurious pana cotta dessert. With a choice of Chinese teas served in unique pots over fire, our palate and our imagination have been well served.
Manager Vincent Lin has offered to escort us on a tour of the vast space and we find that it offers several surprises. Up a few steps, half hidden by the bar is the second half of a beautiful dining room, surrounded by exquisitely furnished private dining rooms of various sizes. I am intrigued by the gorgeous, inlaid round table that seats twenty with a giant Lazy Susan in the center. Oh, the banquets we could plan!
Every detail is checked. When our attentive server sets the teapot on the table, he makes sure to point the spout on an angle away from us, with respect to Chinese cultures in which social customs dictate that pointing a teapot spout is akin to pointing one's finger in a gesture of disrespect. We feel respected and embraced by the warmth of our tea.
And who do we have to thank for dropping this culinary treasure trove into the midst of downtown Toronto? It is the group that owns One Fusion Cuisine in Richmond Hill and Skyview Fusion Cuisine in Markham. We raise a glass of Baiju to you with appreciation and congratulations!
Lai Wah Heen, 108 Chestnut St, DoubleTree by Hilton Hotel, 416-260-8988