The Upper Room at Duddell’s

The waiter came over to ask me what I would like to drink and then began to talk about a special alcohol highlight they were offering. “I don’t drink in the day,” I replied, almost apologetically (I’m not sure why I felt the need to explain myself). They recommended tea, which arrived in a fancy bottle—a sparkling bottle of tea, in fact, which has yet to convince me that it should be cold rather than warm.

There was a woman sitting in close proximity, dining solo as well, who was moaning until the cows came home. I started to wonder just how crazy the world had become, and what exactly she was complaining about. I’m not sure she knew either. As soon as my dim sum arrived, she looked at it angrily, pointing and then scolding the waiters for not having what I did. Well… if you knew what you were ordering in the first place, we all wouldn’t be so bloody confused. By this point, I had eavesdropped entirely against my will on her loud and obnoxious argument about God knows what. I put my head down and ate my food quietly, trying my hardest not to spark up a conversation with my entitled neighbour. I was silently begging, “please don’t try to talk to me.” Thankfully, she didn’t. The staff took the interrogation well, which made me think that perhaps they attract and are used to a certain clientele.

The dim sum leaned towards something more considered; it was trying to stand out as unmistakably upmarket. Duddell’s, in general, holds one Michelin star, but I don’t think you can directly relate this to the Upper Room. I’ll have to visit the main restaurant to make that connection, if there is one. Should anyone be awarding stars for dim sum? I’m not so sure. Could it simply be like everywhere else—just served in a basket with better branding? This is eating in style, best suited to an on-your-own, get-away-from-it-all, quiet, lovely time (if there isn’t somebody next to you stomping all over the idea). You can avoid the typical dim sum carts, loud noise, and chaos in favour of polish, calm, and control. The dumplings—even if they were not superior—did give the impression that they were. Portions were larger than most, the skin, structure, and fillings well defined, particularly the steamed pork and shrimp topped with Australian scallop and a smidge of fish roe. Delivered with intention and composure, provided no one nearby decides to treat lunch as a public performance.