Dinner Theater

Adam Tihany, arguably the world’s foremost restaurant designer, pokes his head through the bars of the “deconstructed rice bowl” in the eclectic entrance to the Pudong Shangri-La’s new flagship restaurant, Jade on 36. Flashes pop as the bombastic designer mugs for “Wine and Dine” magazine with a cigar in one hand, and a glass of champagne in the other. Tihany (the man behind the MO Bar and Amber at the Landmark Mandarin Oriental in Hong Kong) has just put the finishing touches on this magnificent, highly conceptualized project. But its jade-colored carpets, suspended jewel boxes and Venetian marble floors are overshadowed by the panoramic view of the riverside Bund and Shanghai beyond; of a city becoming obsessed with design. Restaurant is theater, and Shanghai is building a stage.

The past ten years have seen remarkable growth in the restaurant market. In the not-so-distant past the only fine-dining in the city was to be had at five-star hotels, and upscale Chinese dining was solely characterized by blinding chandeliers and glittering gilt. Then came Hong Kong restaurateur Michelle Garnaut’s successful M on the Bund, which broke new ground as a free-standing restaurant with a concept and a view, and which looks as good today as it did when it opened in 1999. It was soon followed by the slick minimalism of such places as Shintori Null II and People 6 and 7, which spawned upscale Chinese and Japanese imitators all over town. The big hitters such as celebrity chef Jean Georges Vongerichten (who opens Jean Georges in 2003) followed in their footsteps, riding a wave of prosperity and the promise of turning profits in slick new projects. In the past two years, Hong Kong designer Alan Chan and American architect Michael Graves, along with the likes of Japanese design firm Super Potato, have created extravagant spots. Today, there’s a definite air of celebration about restaurants in Shanghai. As Tihany says to the small group of journalists gathered outside Jade, “Where’s the Champagne?”

The Roots of the Design Movement

Opulence is not new to Shanghai – it’s just returned after a long absence. When people discuss the extravagant attitude of the city, they sometimes forget pre-war Shanghai, a foreigner-choked enclave of taxi dancers, jazz musicians, and art deco. “It’s no surprise that Shanghai is building so many stylish, cosmopolitan restaurants,” says Alan Chan, who designed Three on the Bund’s Whampoa Club. “It was known as the ‘Paris of the Orient’ in the 1930s, and its DNA is powerfully demonstrating a desire for good design today, presented in modern language.”

But after the liberation, Shanghai entered a long slumber; along with the rest of China, utilitarian design was the norm for much of the second half of the 20th century. Grand buildings on the Bund were ensconced in plywood and sectioned off; marble and mosaics disappeared under decades of dirt. Then, in the 1980s and early 90s, five-star hotels began the slow awakening of the hospitality industry. But the city was still far short of appreciating design. “Originally it was all about hotels,” explains Peter Mackey of design firm Hualei-Mackey Partners. “One of the nicest restaurants in Shanghai was Tony Roma’s. It’s come on leaps and bounds. Restaurants here have gone from tiny holes in the wall to serious ventures in a very short period of time.”

Groundbreaking Spaces

M on the Bund is a seminal spot in the transition from downmarket to upscale; not only by virtue of delicious modern Western food that was impossible to find in Shanghai, but also because of its timeless design and inimitable views. “I wanted this restaurant, from design to food, to be as good as any restaurant anywhere in the world,” says owner Garnaut. “People were very cynical about this. But after exponential growth in the past few years, people now expect an international standard.” M stood alone on the Bund for almost five years; but in the past 18 months the city has seen six world-class restaurants open at Three on the Bund and Bund 18. Boutique hotels, and retail dining outlets such as Bund 6, are racing to compete in a scene that almost feels crowded.

But changes in the way restaurants look, and the way people eat, didn’t start at the top. Small places like Nepali Kitchen (with its funky dark-wood furniture, decorative windows and “well” seating) and Simply Thai (with its good food, friendly staff and cozy atmosphere) set the standard for comfortable, relaxed eating. And their success stemmed from thoughtful planning just as much as delicious food. Nepali Kitchen just moved from Xinle to Julu Lu in reaction to the quickly changing marketplace. “Originally, I just wanted to do something very Nepali, very comfortable,” says owner Kanchha Ghale. “At that time, the market was not very competitive, but design has come to the forefront now. It is very important.”