Shang Cafe

True to the word “Cafe” in its name, the interior was unexpectedly modern—nothing like the Chinese restaurant I had imagined.

The twice-cooked pork was good. I would order it again.

The laziji was the problem. The plate looked enormous, but it was mostly dried chilies. The chicken pieces were tiny, nearly invisible, and extremely hard—enough to make me wonder whether the dish had been prepared in advance. Looking around, I realized that no one at the other tables had ordered it. Next time, I would try something else.