Simon Lewis: Comrade Hack

The photographer wanted to take pictures of Beijing duck so I took him to this new ‘Imperial’ restaurant I’d read about.

It was one of the most over the top places I have ever seen. As we walked in, robed greeters shouted, ‘the honoured guests have arrived!’ and we were shown into a dining room made out to look like a hall in the Forbidden City. Except there were goldfish beneath the glass floor and a waterfall ran down one wall. The chairs were bright yellow thrones and as well as cutlery there was a flywhisk and something like a sceptre at the table settings.

But never mind the décor, it was the staff who were really striking; all were tricked out in full historical gear complete with elaborate headgear, long fake nails and the like.

We went for the cheapest set meal, about fifteen quid each, which turned out to be pretty good value considering. With some ceremony we were presented with a whole plucked duck, including its head of course, and given a brush and a pot of what I think was its blood and asked to write something on it. As we were going to take a picture of the thing we asked the guy just to write ‘duck’ on it in Chinese. They took it away to be cooked and then brought out an endless succession of courses, starting with fried duck’s webs.

Our waitress said ‘the Emperor of the Tang Dynasty is greeting you!’ and three heavily costumed people came up and bowed; a Tang Dynasty Emperor, the Empress, and a foxy concubine. The man’s hat looked like the top of a Doric column and the queen’s headpiece like a gold pagoda. I guess we should have taken a photo or said hello back but I think we were both a bit shell shocked and unsure how to play along.

Never mind, they just smiled dreamily and continued in stately procession, greeting all the diners. When they left, I though that was the end of the shenanigans, but no, later on we introduced to some Song Dynasty royals, and after that, Yuan, Ming and Qing.

Of course you see pictures of Imperial finery but the full magnificent haute couture silliness of the costumes doesn’t come across until you see someone dressed up in them and trying to walk. It’s as if every dynasty tried to outdo the last in impracticality and colour contrast. Actually what it reminded me of was the most recent Star Wars films; the look of the Chinese court was obviously the inspiration for the dresses of that Queen wotsefarface.

It was all very well done, I have to say. I’m seen attempts at this kind of thing before but they’ve always looked a bit shabby – the robes cheap, and trainers visible beneath them. Not here though; the footwear was period, and the staff must have had deportment lessons. The ‘Imperial family’ had just the same kind of glassily benevolent look that the Queen manages. There was, I felt, a Walt Disney kind of figure behind this, a strong character obsessed with realising his fantasy.

When the roast duck finally came we were quite relieved (though no longer, sadly, very hungry); at least it meant the photographer could do some work. A chef skilfully evicerated the thing for us on a trolley. I’d have thought that would make a great photo, but, partly thanks to the transparent plastic gloves the man was wearing, the pictures looked like illustrations of some grisly medical procedure.

Our waitress plucked pancakes out of the bamboo steamer, slathered them with plum sauce and put on the duck shreds and spring onion and rolled them up into packages. To be honest I’d rather roll my own duck pancakes. But that’s the Chinese idea of luxury – having lackeys hover just behind your shoulder waiting for the moment when they can spring forward and do something for you. It made for some good photos anyway.

It was fun but I think we were quite glad to get out of there. The greeters carried the photographer’s tripod out for him and as we left shouted, ‘Their work over, the honoured guests take their leave!’

We went to a bar round the corner. It was called ‘The World of Suzie Wong’s’, and it was done up like an opium den, with rose petals floating in stone ponds and the like. And just over the road from that was a housing estate of high rise blocks. There was nothing special about the blocks of course, but the entrance to the estate was a giant Proscenium arch, faced with marble, with full size figures of Roman warriors in niches and topped with an equestrian statue. Theatre, kitsch and pastiche – sometimes Las Vegas has nothing on China.