Nestled deep in the labyrinthine luxury of Gate Village 11, Shanghai Me glistens like a jewel in the Rolex dial that is DIFC. It’s a restaurant that introduces itself with quiet confidence — elegant, assured, and entirely at ease in its surroundings, a confidence that is well-earned.
Now, before I say anything else, let’s be clear: this is not your Friday night chowmein nosh-up, elbows-deep spinning the lazy Susan. No, Shanghai Me is Chinese food with a PhD in elegance and a second home in St. Tropez. It’s grown-up. Suave.
The dining room is all glossy finishes, dim lighting, and enough plush velvet to outfit a minor royal. It fills up quickly, the clientele a mixture of bronzed expats, terrifyingly beautiful women, and men who look like they own crypto firms with suspiciously short lifespans. And just as the room reaches its perfect murmur, up creeps the music — some godforsaken 2013 Ibiza B-side rising like a zombie from the speakers. Why Dubai insists on this sort of music I’ll never know. Give me guzhengs, give me erhu, give me
a break.
But then came the food. Oh God, the food. A procession of starters that arrived in such rhythmic, confident waves, I felt like I was being wooed by a very polite, very well-dressed emperor.
First, the duck. A crisp-skinned slice of heaven, hiding foie gras and topped with caviar, because why the heck not? It was rich and absolutely essential for Friday night. Then wagyu beef corn shells — miniature taco dreams filled with something so juicy and unctuous I briefly forgot what day it was. The crispy duck salad was light, fresh, and tragically addictive, like a salad made by someone who secretly hates salads.
Dim sum? A tour de force. The prawn har gow melted like first snow. The chicken siu mai packed a punch. The char siu puffs were gooey, flaky miracles. And the wagyu beef taro dumplings — honestly, if I ever end up in hospital, just wheel in a tray of those and I’ll self-resuscitate.
I could have stopped there. Should have, really. But like a fool, I pressed on. Silver cod came next — light, flaky, as delicate as an opera soprano’s cough — and then a mountain of noodles that I ate despite being quite full and already worrying about the buttons on my shirt. It was all too much and not enough, in the best possible way.
Dessert was where the magic slightly unspooled. The chocolate tuile with matcha mousse was a beauty queen with little to say. The milk sponge cake, hailed by others, left me cold and a bowl of condensed milk wasn’t for me.
Still, the verdict is easy: Shanghai Me is the thinking man’s Chinese — refined, stylish, and modern in all the right ways. If I had my time again, I’d order three rounds of starters and float home on a duck-fat cloud.
Hero dish: Roast duck with foie gras and caviar – 10/10
Senses: Sensible – 8/10
Menu curation: Wide ranging but for me the focus is on the exceptional starters – 8/10
Service: Perfectly pleasant – 8/10
Overall score: 8.5/10
Location: Gate Village 11, DIFC
Call: 04 564 0505
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