Treasure of China

Authentic Flavors and Warm Smiles Await

Waltzing into Treasure of China, I braced for an evening that could teeter on the ledge between delightful authenticity and cursed compromise—all in courtesy of its polarizing reviews. First up was salt and pepper squid that's somehow managed to etch itself into memory, crisp as a winter morning but thankfully warmer and less taxing on the cheekbones. With seafood shining like a supernova, it wasn't long before the comforting expanse of Yangzhou fried rice landed, resplendent with enough flavorful promise to keep the dining cynic at bay. Yet, just as confidence surged, the eggplant proved to be the Achilles’ heel—an old-time classic slightly marred by age-induced bitterness. It’s as if the piano hit a wrong note during a virtuoso performance.

Stepping from sustenance to service, the staff wielded smiles generous enough to melt the iciest demeanor, striking just the right chords between hustle and hospitality. Embodying resilience akin to seasoned theatre professionals, they handled the spectrum—inquisitive diners one moment, diplomatic peacemakers the next. Amidst tales of catastrophic takeaways and life-shattering faux pas in price tag diplomacy—considering a starter portion best described as microscopic diplomacy—the experience remained mostly positive. Despite a few gastronomic perturbations and bill-induced palpitations, Treasure of China, under a new regime, casts a firm foot forward onto greener pastures full of delightfully authentic and occasionally inconsistent fare. Visit with discretion, dabble in dim sum, and perhaps leave existentialism to philosophers—or the prices left shockingly unjustified. — Penelope Savory