The ideal place for late night revelers looking to chow down in Chinatown…
There’s no better prelude or conclusion to a night out in Central London than a big ol’ feast. Open from 6pm till 4am every day, at Chop Chop you can do both.
Deciding to go for a late-night dinner in London usually means that you’re the ideal kind of drunk, tipsy enough to enjoy a delicious meal, but not so drunk that your neck can no longer hold your alcohol sodden brain up. The question, of course, is where to get that late night, restorative bite?
Unfortunately, if you want to eat after midnight in the city, when traditional late night eating haunts like Balans and Bar Italia are so often full, you’re mostly limited to fried chicken and kebab shops.
Nothing wrong with that of course, but for a little more variety and a proper sitdown feed, it’s to Chinatown you should head, a place that has long been a haven for late night revellers operating under the irresistible pull of Chinese food, where the flavour enhancers of booze and MSG collide to delicious effect.
At the weekend, this is the part of town to park for a scary hours Cantonese feast. And joining the ranks of late night Chinese eateries in the neighbourhood is Chop Chop by Four Seasons, which you’ll find tucked away in the basement of the Hippodrome casino.
The Four Seasons restaurant group is a London institution with a proliferation of popular Chinese restaurants across town. There’s three right around the corner from the Hippodrome, where ducks with burnished skin glisten seductively in the window, beckoning diners in. It’s a discipline which the group is particularly famous for, and Chop Chop very much continues that tradition.
Open until four in the morning and billed as a polished late night haunt from the get-go, Chop Chop is keeping things contemporary for the group – your usual Chinatown restaurant with stark lighting, efficient paper table cloths and even more efficient service this ain’t. Indeed, some serious money has gone into the dining room here and there’s a fresh, energetic feel to proceedings. Aficionados of high design may even appreciate the space if they’re still compos mentis enough to notice.
The restaurant is run by William Sin, a Soho legend previously of the now sadly closed Y Ming close by, according to Jay Rayner, who has a wonderful way with hospitality. Though he wasn’t working the floor the night we rolled in, the dexterous service is a testament to his effect.
The elegant interior was designed by Rachel O’Toole to echo the feel of 1960s Hong Kong, a seminal decade for the city. The neon carp swimming in the glass windows over the booths are a nod to the proliferation of neon signage in both Hong Kong and Soho during those years, an indelible part of both cities that gives a certain flow and movement to the room. The booths create an intimate dining space, ideal for sharing with friends, or a place where you can ravish a bowl of nourishing noodles in quiet seclusion come last orders in the rest of Soho. Slurp away; nobody’s watching…
Reassuringly, just as much thought has gone into the menu as the interiors – it’s just as thoughtfully conceived and boasts a steely focus rather than being tome-like and folder-thick.
The largest and most rewarding section of the menu is headed ‘Signature Meats’. Indeed, a Chinese feast at Chop Chop wouldn’t be complete without ordering the (‘that’) duck, which, like the other roast meats on the menu, comes from the Gerrard Street Four Seasons kitchen. Can you call it outsourcing or ‘buying in’ if it’s from the same restaurant group? Who cares when the skin is as lacquered as this?
The Financial Times proclaimed these crispy duck pancakes to be the best in the world and while we can’t vouch for this as we haven’t tried every single duck pancake in the world (we don’t think we’d be here to tell the tale if we had), we would say that Chop Chops recognition for this enduringly popular duck dish is richly deserved.
Here the ducks are sourced from the prestigious Silver Hill Farm in Ireland. They are grain fed and left to roam, serenaded by soft-playing music which relaxes them and makes the meat all the more tender. For some reason we’re left wondering whether humans who listen to heavy metal taste the same as those into classical…
…Back in the restaurant, and that duck is shredded tableside, adding an extra dimension and drama to the experience. As the shards of skin and slivers of duck meat fall, you’ll feel compelled to either drool in anticipation or clap because of the damn theatre of it all.
You’re not a baby or a seal, so all that’s left to do is wrap and roll, the pancakes here tissue-thin and the slivers of green onions curling invitingly. Add a stick or two of cucumber and a smear of hoisin sauce and cram it all in, in one.
While it’s a little unconventional, our waiter recommended adding a touch of the house chilli oil. We’d recommend it too (hang on; we are recommending it) – the result is a salty and sweet, crunchy and soft mouthful with a gentle, undulating kick.
Another divine duck dish worthy of your order is Chop Chop’s Cantonese-style roasted duck, which is dried before being marinated in a special mix of spices and herbs and then fired in a specially built roasting furnace, the heat distributed evenly around the duck’s body, resulting in its golden crispy outer skin which, for us, is undeniably the soul and substance of the dish.
Somebody at the table is almost guaranteed to want some dim sum – time of day be damned – and you shouldn’t ignore their wishes. You can’t go wrong with the steamed pork buns stuffed with sweet and sticky BBQ char siu anywhere, and here they’re superb. Order some dumplings, too – we had the prawn and chive, the meaty sweetness (yep, we read ‘meat sweats’ too) of the prawns singing with chives. It’s a classic combination enlivened by a generous dip in that chilli oil from two paragraphs prior. It left a mark on us in more ways than one; that fucker does not come out in the wash. Wear black.
Because it’s late and we’re feasting, we had the whole sea bass, aromatic with ginger and spring onions. The light delicate fish was steamed to perfection, deliciously fragrant and pearlescent, and the perfect foil for those fattier, more umami-led bites. The grilled scallops, served in their shell over glass noodles, hit the high notes, too. Pair it all with the restaurant’s braised aubergine, cooked down low and slow until silky, it sings with hot, sour and sweet notes, and is a star of the increasingly gluttonous show in its own right rather than merely a support act.
We finished things off with one of Chop Chop’s signature ice cream sticks, which come in a range of traditional flavours like pandan and taro. A refreshing end to the meal, but perhaps not a strictly necessary one.
Hopefully not as a replacement for the aforementioned Mr Sin, a robot waiter sidles over to our table to help clear away the empty dishes. When we visited, we were told that they were currently deciding on a name for the robot, which is being put to a company-wide vote. Perhaps they might want to vote to do away with the robot instead? The humanity of the room was one of the aces up Chop Chop’s sleeve.
We can’t help but think that the Hippodrome head honchos listened to Jay Rayner in his review of The Heliot back in 2017 when he implored them to get “a couple of the top Cantonese grilled meat chefs from across the way” and start “offering up platters of duck, char sui and pok choi”.
Whatever the reason, for choosing to usher in Chop Chop to the site, we’re glad they did.
Next time you’re out and about, instead of sauntering through the streets of Soho looking for a late night bite, we’d encourage you to head to the Chinese restaurant beneath the Hippodrome with haste – chop chop.
Website: fs-restaurants.co.uk