In the white-tablecloth Chinese restaurant realm, the key to distinction and success rests in the chef, perhaps even more than in other fare types. At lower Bay Ridge’s Xin, industry veteran Au Yeung provides the needed spice

by Meredith Napolitano Stettner • photos by alex baretto

When word spread that the chefs and wait staff from Lai Yuen—Bay Ridge’s former 200-seat and highly regarded white-tablecloth Chinese restaurant on Fourth Avenue and 101st Street—were now cooking at Xin, a year-and-a-half-old establishment at 83rd Street and Third Avenue, its tables began to see more traffic. Seekers of elegant Chinese food know when they are getting the real thing, and for its fans, Lai Yuen had been just that for 15 years.

But to the surprise of many, the eatery closed its doors suddenly in 2014 when it lost its lease in a sale to a medical center—leaving staff without work for eight months and without any notification, save arriving to a locked door one August day. Its head chef of 11 years, Au Yeung, who came to New York from Hong Kong in 1981, went to cook in New Jersey.

Soon, though, opportunity came knocking when Xin opened in April of last year, with the intention of offering chefs, waiters, and take-out crew from Lai Yuen a new home. Au Yeung, however, was still in New Jersey, until Pat Roarke, Xin’s GM since March, got the sought-after Yeung back in
Brooklyn a few months ago. The chef, whose father helmed a restaurant kitchen in China, now heads culinary matters here, and with needed confidence.

In a changing Bay Ridge, it can be hard to know, however, what will stick.

“In the ’90s this was restaurant row,” said Roarke, referring to the stretch of Third Avenue surrounding the new eatery. You’ll still find many classic places, and many with coveted valet parking, but with staples like Zio Toto’s and Patrizia’s also opening outposts in Staten Island, it leaves room for reinvention. Xin is now the only Chinese restaurant of its kind on the block.

Fine Chinese cooking is rooted in a culture of respect. In an age of minimalist, white space-centric plating, Xin’s cuisine and specialties have a way of making generous, shareable platters feel au courant and respectable simultaneously.

“This is not greasy Chinese,” said Rourke, explaining that the kitchen’s approach cuts no corners. “But these guys also use everything. There is zero waste. They are buying and breaking down whole chickens and using every part.”

At Xin, dishes are not riffed-upon flights of unexpected nouvelle fancy—classics are what reign here. The Beijing duck, for example, is presented whole and carved table-side (in a ritual of sorts), while the Moo Shu pork, tender stir-fried pork and vegetables, is wrapped into its traditional pancakes by the waiter (deftly, using two spoons), then plated per guest.

Dim sum offerings include items a la carte, like shumai and dumplings, and pu pu platters of a little of everything, including boneless and bone-in pork ribs (a sweet and crispy specialty), lightly pan-fried pork dumplings with sauce, and shrimp toasts. The West Lake Beef Egg Drop Soup has been rumored to beat traditional chicken soup for its flu (and hangover) fighting powers, while the Singapore Mei Fun (rice noodles, served hot and spicy) will pulverize hunger and clear sinuses in equal time.

For mains, the Grand Marnier shrimp— lightly battered colossal shrimp (size U8) coated in a light sweet sauce and served over chunks of cantaloupe and honeydew—is the most popular specialty. (“People come here for it alone,” Roarke said with a grin). Also popular is fried rice, served in a heaped mound and which makes for a perfect shared dish. The gold coin steak, featuring thin medallions of filet mignon and fat asparagus, is another specialty. All noodles are hand-made—the chicken lo mein filled with large, tender strips of white meat and perfectly seasoned noodles. A full bar and drinks menu is available as well.

Abundance is evident at Xin, as if the team wants customers to see their kitchen as boundless, and multiplying.

(“They are always here, cooking,” Roarke said of the staff.) Portions are family-size, which also account for prices incrementally higher than standard. Two modest eaters will likely order a few plates and leave with leftovers (though that’s a less common occurrence these days, the manager pointed out). Diners will do well, he added, to keep in mind that the opportunity to share is coin of the realm here, including, during a post-meal linger, a cup of pistachio ice cream served with a couple of spoons.

Xin
8320 3rd Avenue
347.662.6222 / xinbrooklyn.com