The city of New Haven has received much renown in terms of its food scene, but in all honesty, I have found its Asian cuisine to be severely lacking.
New Haven is plagued with overpriced, mediocre Chinese, Korean, and pseudo-Japanese restaurants that serve food so greasy that one could fuel a truck. But finally, a restaurant’s grand opening brings change.
Chao Chao, a Taiwanese “tapas” and wine bar, offers an exciting and unique concept that will revolutionize Chinese cuisine in New Haven. The venue offers two intimate floors: the upstairs prioritizes wine, while the downstairs focuses on food. The Taiwanese-born owner Chao Chao, from whom the restaurant takes its name, has partnered up with an American wine enthusiast to create new flavors. They have expertly paired quality wines with small-portioned delicacies. I am still savoring the ensuing aromatic nuances of both substances. This is the first time I have seen wine used so deliberately to draw out the intricacies of familiar Chinese flavors.
As a lover of books and art, Chao Chao designed the dimly lit interior to resemble a study. There are antique copies of Robert Browning’s Victorian poetry bound with ribbon and framed cutouts of golden Qing dynasty robes. There are vases sprigged with hyacinths, walls of fire, pebbles, and paintings of a sleeping boy, garbed in a yellow Ottoman cap and vest. Black chopsticks with heavy, gold caps lay alongside delicate bowls modeled after Ming blue porcelain.
These elements have created what can only be called an Orientalist space with Zen vibrations. Whether or not intentional, the décor spirits one away to the height of Aestheticism in London. It seems as if Oscar Wilde and James McNeill Whistler could be tucked in a booth, smoking opium pipes and hookah. Here, one may safely fetish books, wine, and “refined” renditions of Chinese cuisine.
In a peaceful manner of subdued pride, Chao Chao brings out a beautiful stone bowl laden with leaves of basil curled around tender morsels of chicken. She has paired this with a pinot grigio. There are also dumplings, sliced vegetables, and noodles. Nothing is too heavy, and the wine brings out layers of flavor as perfectly as a musical harmony blossoms into overtones. It is a beautiful meal centered more on pleasure than sustenance—on the hidden quality of materials and relationships, rather than overt luxury.
Chao Chao has ambitious plans for her small space. She would like to offer wine-tasting classes. Her venue not only offers a dash of elegance and luxury to Chinese cuisine, but also passes on culinary skill and appreciation to her guests. Thus, she will develop her customers to appreciate her product, so that they may better understand today’s rapidly-changing Chinese culture.
I cannot wait to learn about the pairing of wine and Chinese food, as such a concept is so revolutionary to me, having suffered through poor-quality, greasy renditions of Szechuan cuisine for so long. I am wholeheartedly excited to observe how Chao Chao transforms New Haven food culture.
