At China Harbor, an iconic Seattle restaurant gets a refresh

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Even those who have never set foot in the huge, glossy black building that towers over the west side of Lake Union will recognize it immediately in conversation. But most of those who know China Harbor are familiar with the interior of the huge banquet hall on the second floor: from weddings, salsa dancing, political fundraising, 500-person mega-events or “Gung Haggis Fat Choy”, the combination of Burns Night and Chinese New Year celebration it has held for more than a decade.

Relatively fewer people stopped by for a casual dinner. “So many people used to complain about the food,” says chef Danna Hwang, who joined the team at the 27-year-old restaurant this summer.

Thomson Zhao bought the restaurant less than a year before the pandemic events closed, cutting off China Harbor’s main source of business. In search of ways to revive the iconic space, he reached out to his friend Hwang, former chef at Bellevue’s Peony Kitchen, for help. With events back on and the spacious room with panoramic views of Lake Union welcoming customers again, their menu updates are bringing new audiences looking for a taste of their creative cuisine.

Hwang’s version of honey walnut prawns, lightened with the sharp bite of green apple cubes that slice through the sweetness, rises high off the plate and fits right in with the impressive but borderline aesthetic of the China Harbor dining room. Originally, Zhao Hwang had been hired to work on an upcoming new project, but when pandemic-related delays began, he asked her to help part-time in China Harbor, where he had just launched a dim sum menu.

Port of china

Naomi Tomky, Seattle PI Special

Hwang grew up in Guangzhou, considered by many to be the birthplace of dim sum, before moving to Seattle, where she graduated from high school and fell in love with the area. She married and raised her sons in Seattle. “After they went to school, all I had to do was watch the Food Channel,” she laughs. But she practiced cooking what she saw and eventually grew into a catering company. Then she teamed up with restaurateur Paul Choi from Peony and spent a year traveling and researching to develop the menu before the upscale Bellevue restaurant opened.

In contrast, when she told friends that she was going to launch in China Harbor, they were surprised and called her brave. “It’s an old place and no one will want to go,” they told her. But she wanted to try and said, “You never know!” As events picked up again, Zhao needed her help as often as possible, and Hwang wanted to give the dining room a new reputation to make sure it wasn’t the China Harbor they remember from their uncle’s wedding 20 years ago.

“I want customers to feel new, come in and trust us,” says Hwang. While she is busy with the event business, she keeps adding her own accents to the menu. Some of the menu items will be familiar to Peony customers – she started planning the menu out of Zhao’s own love of eating there.

The Forbidden Duck looks like the peony version of the traditional Peking duck – the same glassy skin, shiny and shockingly crispy, lies over the tender meat. But here it comes with fluffy rolls instead of thin pancakes, and a more impressive detour from the classic presentation with a two-tone sesame paste sauce and grilled lemons, which are supposed to defy the richness of the duck, supported by a range of herbs and sliced ​​watermelon radishes.

At China Harbor, an iconic Seattle restaurant gets a refresh

Port of china

Naomi Tomky, Seattle PI Special

On the dim sum menu, she added black truffle paste to the Xiu Mai, the kind of flashy addition that often seems over the top and expensive for no great reason. But the generous blob placed after steaming only increases the price from $ 5.99 to $ 9; a cheap thrill. For a bigger serving of luxury, she also makes a version of the classic deep-fried taro ball, replacing the meaty center with abalone. Even with more modest dishes, Hwang stands out: Her fried chive dumplings are the size of the flat of a hand, with a crisp, frilled skirt over them. She likes strong flavors, adding Szechuan peppercorn versions of crab and lobster that are already on the menu, and lemongrass butter with garlic to the shrimp. All of this fits easily into the rest of the menu at China Harbor, their crispy pork belly in shrimp sauce goes well with the classic twice-cooked pork, but it stands out on the plate.

Hwang’s style is fresh and modern – she complemented the seafood options with oyster pancakes made from freshly shelled oysters and added a fried kale with garlic sauce to the vegetables. It suits Hwang’s own interests, including fishing, hiking, and spending time outdoors – one reason she loves Seattle so much.

On her Instagram, next to the salmon she has caught, she posts photos with local dignitaries in the restaurant, in between videos of cooking rice on the bank of a river near Cle Elum with her mother and son. “I don’t have a big goal,” she says, just spending time with her family and cooking the food that makes people happy – and she knows she can do that in China Harbor if people give her a chance . “People wait in line for an hour and a half for bubble tea,” she says, but then she gets complaints when they wait 45 minutes for their food.

Those who wait are treated to the food that matches the view from the windows that stretch from below the tables to the ceiling, framing the water. The building dates back to a time when it was okay to be ostentatious without entangling it in irony, and Hwang’s food is brimming with a similar show. She looks around the room and looks at her own food and smiles: “You can’t get that anywhere.”