You’re powerless to resist.
You were just craving some Chinese, some chopsticks and your couch.
But now Chi-Lin exists, and suddenly you find yourself in the grandest hall of dumplings, Peking duck and butterflies that the Sunset Strip has ever seen. It’s from the empire behind BOA and Sushi Roku, and it soft-opens tonight. You’re going.
It starts small. Ish. There’s a sexy little bar, all crimson walls and pony-hair couches. Perfectly nice spot to begin your date with a couple Formosa Manhattans, with black-tea-infused bourbon. Then you’ll see the regal tea room, with silk-covered benches under a large skylight. Make note of this for your next pitch meeting. (It’s a road movie. Some open sky will help sell it.)
But you’re here for 300 lanterns and infinite butterflies. You’re here for the pretty staggering main room. The one where dangling lanterns are reflected back at themselves—the ceilings are mirrored, as are the tables—and endless columns of glass-encased butterflies seem to go on forever. Right. So that’s all happening.
And then come the crab and uni soup dumplings. Scorched-pepper tangerine beef. And, oh, sure, you’ll have a couple of helpings of Peking duck from the cart rolling through every 30 minutes or so.
You don’t surround yourself with all this and then not have the Peking duck.
You were just craving some Chinese, some chopsticks and your couch.
But now Chi-Lin exists, and suddenly you find yourself in the grandest hall of dumplings, Peking duck and butterflies that the Sunset Strip has ever seen. It’s from the empire behind BOA and Sushi Roku, and it soft-opens tonight. You’re going.
It starts small. Ish. There’s a sexy little bar, all crimson walls and pony-hair couches. Perfectly nice spot to begin your date with a couple Formosa Manhattans, with black-tea-infused bourbon. Then you’ll see the regal tea room, with silk-covered benches under a large skylight. Make note of this for your next pitch meeting. (It’s a road movie. Some open sky will help sell it.)
But you’re here for 300 lanterns and infinite butterflies. You’re here for the pretty staggering main room. The one where dangling lanterns are reflected back at themselves—the ceilings are mirrored, as are the tables—and endless columns of glass-encased butterflies seem to go on forever. Right. So that’s all happening.
And then come the crab and uni soup dumplings. Scorched-pepper tangerine beef. And, oh, sure, you’ll have a couple of helpings of Peking duck from the cart rolling through every 30 minutes or so.
You don’t surround yourself with all this and then not have the Peking duck.
