The Heartbeat of Shanghai’s Culinary Scene
I’ll never forget stepping out of my taxi into the humid Shanghai evening, jet-lagged but buzzing with anticipation. The neon lights reflected in puddles from an earlier rain shower, and the air was thick with the aroma of something I couldn’t quite place—sweet, savory, and entirely unfamiliar. This was my first encounter with the intoxicating world of shanghai restaurant culture, and boy, was I unprepared for the sensory overload that awaited.
Look, I’ve eaten my way through night markets in Taipei and slurped ramen in Tokyo backstreets, but Shanghai? Shanghai’s food scene is an entirely different beast—a glorious fusion of traditional Chinese cuisines colliding with international influences and modern innovation.
I spent three weeks here last summer, and I STILL feel like I barely scratched the surface. I originally planned for just a week (rookie mistake) but kept extending my stay because I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving with so many restaurants unexplored. My poor credit card is still recovering.
What makes Shanghai such a fascinating destination for food lovers is its perfect balancing act between preserving culinary traditions that stretch back centuries and embracing cutting-edge gastronomy that rivals anything you’d find in Paris or New York. From hole-in-the-wall dumpling shops to Michelin-starred temples of haute cuisine, Shanghai restaurants cater to every palate and budget imaginable.
So grab a pair of chopsticks and loosen your belt—I’m about to take you on a very personal (and slightly chaotic) journey through Shanghai’s restaurant scene that’ll have you booking flights before you finish reading.
Old School Shanghai: Traditional Treasures
Jia Jia Tang Bao – Dumpling Heaven
Some travel writers might start with a fancy, upscale place, but that’s not how I roll. My Shanghai food journey begins where any self-respecting dumpling lover should start: Jia Jia Tang Bao.
This tiny, unassuming spot near People’s Square doesn’t look like much—fluorescent lighting, plastic stools, and a constant line that snakes out the door. But those in the know understand that this line means something special awaits.
I showed up at 10:30am on my second day in Shanghai, thinking I’d beat the crowds. Ha! I still waited 40 minutes, sweating in the summer heat while watching locals expertly order in rapid-fire Mandarin. When I finally reached the counter, I panicked and just pointed at what everyone else was getting.
The xiaolongbao (soup dumplings) here are life-changing. I’m not exaggerating. Each delicate dumpling holds a perfect portion of pork and that magical soup that somehow stays liquid inside the wrapper. I burned my mouth on my first bite because I was too impatient (don’t be like me—let them cool a bit!).
Pro tip: They often run out of dumplings by early afternoon, so morning visits are your best bet. And bring cash—they don’t do that credit card nonsense here.
Old Jesse (Lao Ji She)
Hidden in the French Concession area, Old Jesse requires some detective work to find. It’s down a residential side street, with just a small sign, and if you blink, you might miss it.
I almost gave up after wandering in circles for 20 minutes. When I finally found it, I wasn’t even sure I was in the right place—it looked like someone’s apartment converted into a restaurant. The dining room holds maybe 8 tables tops, and it’s loud, chaotic, and absolutely perfect.
Their hong shao rou (red-braised pork belly) is the stuff of legends. Fatty, melt-in-your-mouth pork in a sweet-savory sauce that I’d seriously consider bathing in. The menu is primarily in Chinese, but they do have some English translations—though I suspect they’re purposely vague about certain dishes to mess with tourists.
When I asked our server what was in the “Grandma’s special” dish, she just smiled mysteriously and said, “Very good. You try.” She wasn’t wrong, but I’m still not entirely sure what I ate. That’s part of the adventure!
Insider knowledge: Make reservations at least a week in advance, and don’t be surprised if they call to confirm multiple times. Their system seems chaotic, but somehow it works.
Fuchun Xiaolong – Dumpling Wars
Let me tell you about the great Shanghai dumpling debate. While Jia Jia Tang Bao gets a lot of love, many locals swear that Fuchun Xiaolong makes superior xiaolongbao. I figured I needed to investigate this culinary controversy myself.
Located in the Huangpu district, Fuchun has been serving dumplings since 1959. The restaurant is slightly larger than Jia Jia and has actual tables where you can sit and enjoy your meal without feeling rushed.
Their xiaolongbao have a slightly thicker skin than Jia Jia’s, but the soup inside is incredibly rich. I ordered both the pork and the pork-crab combo. The crab version was so good I immediately ordered a second basket. No shame.
I struck up a conversation with an elderly gentleman at the next table who told me he’d been coming here every Sunday for 30 years. “The young people like the fancy places now,” he said, shaking his head. “But this is real Shanghai.”
So who wins the dumpling war? I’m not taking sides—that’s how you make enemies in Shanghai. Let’s just say you should try both and join the debate.
Modern Shanghai: Where Tradition Meets Innovation
Fu He Hui – Vegetarian Revelation
I’m not a vegetarian—not even close—but Fu He Hui changed my perspective on plant-based cuisine forever. This Michelin-starred restaurant serves some of the most creative, mind-bending vegetarian food I’ve ever encountered.
Set in a converted house in the Former French Concession, the space feels like a zen sanctuary. Dark wood, minimalist decor, and a sense of calm that’s rare in bustling Shanghai. You choose from set menus rather than ordering à la carte, then sit back and prepare to be amazed.
One dish featured mushrooms prepared five different ways on a single plate—each preparation highlighting a different texture and flavor profile. Another course included what I was convinced was the most tender piece of beef… until the server informed me it was actually king oyster mushroom. I’m still not entirely sure I believe her.
At around 780 RMB ($110) for the full experience, it’s definitely a splurge by Shanghai standards, but worth every yuan for a special occasion.
Unexpected delight: The tea pairing is absolutely worth the additional cost. Each carefully selected variety complements the food perfectly, and the tea master’s knowledge adds another dimension to the experience.
Mr & Mrs Bund – French Flair with Shanghai Views
Sometimes you need a break from Chinese food, even in China. (Is that blasphemous to say? Maybe, but it’s true.) When that moment hit around day 10 of my trip, I headed to Mr & Mrs Bund, Paul Pairet’s modern French brasserie with spectacular views of the Pudong skyline.
The restaurant sits along the Bund, Shanghai’s waterfront area lined with historic buildings.
The interior is sleek and stylish, with floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing that iconic view of Shanghai’s futuristic skyline across the river.
What surprised me about Mr & Mrs Bund was how playful the food is. Pairet doesn’t take himself too seriously, despite his culinary pedigree. His “Long Short Rib” is slow-cooked for 48 hours and practically dissolves when you look at it. The truffle bread was so good I considered ordering a second serving for “the table” (read: just for me).
They also offer a late-night menu until 2am on weekends, which saved me after a night of questionable decisions at a karaoke bar. Nothing soaks up regretful baijiu shots like their mac and cheese at 1:30am.
Worth noting: If you’re on a budget but still want the experience, go for their “late dinner” option from 9:30pm, which offers a reduced price on the same menu.
Ultraviolet – The Most Insane Dining Experience of My Life
I debated whether to include Ultraviolet because: 1) Getting reservations is nearly impossible, 2) It costs more than my monthly rent, and 3) It’s so unique that it hardly seems fair to mention it alongside “normal” restaurants.
But I can’t write about Shanghai’s restaurant scene without acknowledging Paul Pairet’s experimental masterpiece.
Ultraviolet accepts just 10 guests per night. The evening begins with a meeting at Mr & Mrs Bund, where you’re then driven to a secret location. The dining room is a blank canvas—white walls, a single table—but what happens next defies description.
Each of the 20+ courses is accompanied by a completely immersive sensory experience: walls transform with projections, custom scents are pumped into the room, music and sounds create atmosphere, and the table itself becomes part of the show.
One moment you’re in a forest eating mushroom soup, the next you’re underwater as a seafood course arrives. For the Wagyu beef course, the room transformed into a psychedelic trip through what I can only describe as a meat-themed fever dream.
Did I spend an obscene amount of money on this meal? Yes. Do I sometimes wake up at night thinking about it more than a year later? Also yes.
Reality check: At approximately 4,000 RMB ($550) per person including wine pairings, this is firmly in the “once-in-a-lifetime” category for most travelers.
Street Food & Casual Eats
Yang’s Fried Dumplings – Shengjianbao Perfection
Not all dumplings in Shanghai are delicate little packages of soup. Some are crispy-bottomed flavor bombs that cost less than a dollar and will ruin you for all other fried foods.
Yang’s Fried Dumplings (Yang’s Fry) has locations all over the city, but I frequented the one near People’s Square. For about 10 RMB ($1.50), you get four shengjianbao—pork-filled dumplings that are first steamed and then pan-fried to crispy perfection on the bottom.
The ordering process is chaotic. You pay at one counter, get a receipt, then fight your way to the front of another counter to exchange your receipt for food. The first time I tried this dance, I ended up confused and receiptless, watching locals navigate the system with practiced ease.
A kind elderly woman saw my confusion and physically pushed me to the right counter, barking something at the staff that made them laugh. I have no idea what she said, but I got my dumplings, so she’s my hero.
Warning: These dumplings are SCORCHING hot inside. Like, “potentially necessitating a trip to the burn unit” hot. Bite a small hole first and let the steam escape. I learned this the hard way and couldn’t taste anything for two days.
Jianbing from a Street Cart
My favorite breakfast in Shanghai wasn’t found in any restaurant guide. It was from a street cart on a corner near my hotel, operated by a woman who must have been at least 80 years old but moved with the speed and precision of someone decades younger.
Jianbing is essentially a Chinese breakfast crepe. The batter is spread thin on a circular griddle, an egg is cracked on top, and then comes the magic: a brush of sweet bean sauce, a sprinkle of cilantro, green onions, and crispy wonton crackers for texture. The whole thing is folded into a handheld package of breakfast perfection.
I stopped at this cart almost every morning. By day three, the vendor started making mine without me having to order—she’d see me walking up and just start pouring the batter. By week two, she was scolding me if I showed up later than usual. “Late today! Not good!” she’d say, wagging her finger at me. I loved her.
The real deal: The best jianbing comes from street carts, not restaurants. Look for vendors with a line of locals, and be prepared to point and gesture if you don’t speak Mandarin.
Lost Heaven – Yunnan Cuisine with Attitude
When I needed a break from Shanghai’s local cuisine but still wanted Chinese food, I headed to Lost Heaven for their Yunnan specialties. This restaurant specializing in food from China’s southwestern Yunnan province has a moody, atmospheric vibe that feels more like a trendy cocktail bar than a restaurant.
The original location near the Bund is housed in a three-story building with dark wood, tribal art, and dim lighting that makes everyone look good (which, after two weeks of dumpling indulgence, I appreciated).
Their Wild Mushroom Stone Pot was a revelation—a bubbling, aromatic mix of foraged mushrooms from Yunnan’s mountains. The Ghost Chicken salad knocked my socks off with its perfect balance of spice, tang, and herbs.
Here’s where I have a slight complaint though: the service was weirdly hit-or-miss. One night, our server was attentive and knowledgeable; the next visit, I was practically waving semaphore flags to get someone to bring us water.
Worth noting: Their cocktail menu incorporates traditional Chinese ingredients like osmanthus and Yunnan tea. The Lychee Martini paired surprisingly well with the spicier dishes.
Hidden Gems & Local Favorites
Wei Xiang Zhai – Noodle Nirvana
Some places you find through research. Others you discover by following your nose—or in this case, by following a group of construction workers during their lunch break.
I was wandering aimlessly one afternoon when I noticed a stream of workers in yellow hard hats all heading in the same direction. Curious, I trailed behind them to a tiny shop with a line out the door. This was Wei Xiang Zhai, home to what many consider the best sesame noodles (ma jiang mian) in the city.
The shop has maybe 10 tables total, most of them shared with strangers. I waited for a spot, watching as bowls of noodles topped with an angry-looking red sauce were served at a breakneck pace. When I finally got my order, I understood the hype immediately.
The noodles are served cold, topped with a sauce made from sesame paste, chili oil, soy sauce, and vinegar. The combination creates this perfect storm of nutty, spicy, tangy flavors that will haunt your dreams. And at 10 RMB (about $1.50) per bowl, it’s possibly the best culinary value in the universe.
Language barrier alert: There’s no English menu, but if you just hold up one finger and nod enthusiastically, you’ll get the standard noodle bowl that everyone orders.
Guyi – Hunan Heat
I have a confession: I sometimes think I can handle spicy food better than I actually can. This delusion led me to Guyi, a popular Hunan restaurant that doesn’t believe in the concept of “mild.”
Hidden on a quiet street in the Jing’an district, Guyi doesn’t look particularly special from the outside. Inside, it’s bustling with locals, which is always a good sign.
I made the mistake of telling my server I liked spicy food, which she interpreted as “please set my soul on fire.” The cumin ribs came covered in a mountain of dried chilies. The fish head with chopped chilies was simultaneously numbing and blazing hot. Even the cucumber salad had enough garlic and chili to make my eyes water.
It was glorious torture. I kept eating despite the pain, tears streaming down my face, while a table of elderly Chinese ladies next to me watched with amused expressions. One of them eventually took pity and offered me her cup of milk tea, gesturing for me to drink it to cool the heat.
Survival strategy: Order the tea-smoked duck as a respite from the spicier dishes. It’s smoky, succulent, and relatively gentle on the palate.
Shanghai’s International Restaurant Scene
Mercato – Italian with a View
After nearly two weeks of Chinese food, I was craving pizza. Not just any pizza—good pizza. Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s Mercato on the Bund delivered exactly what I needed.
Located on the sixth floor of Three on the Bund, Mercato offers stunning views of the Pudong skyline through its massive windows. The space feels rustic yet sophisticated, with exposed brick, wood beams, and an open kitchen where you can watch pizzas sliding into the wood-fired oven.
Their wild mushroom pizza with fontina and farm egg was a perfect combination of earthy, creamy, and indulgent. We also tried the salt-baked branzino, which was theatrically deboned tableside.
Was it authentically Italian? Not exactly. It had that distinctly Jean-Georges twist that fuses Italian traditions with fresh, sometimes Asian-influenced ingredients. But after weeks of chopsticks, using a knife and fork felt novel and the flavors were a welcome change.
Observation: The clientele was about 70% expats and 30% wealthy Chinese diners. It’s definitely a see-and-be-seen kind of place, so maybe don’t show up in the shorts and sweaty T-shirt I was wearing (though they were too polite to say anything).
RAW – Fusion Done Right
Shanghai’s food scene isn’t just about Chinese cuisine or high-end Western restaurants—there’s a fascinating middle ground where culinary traditions merge in unexpected ways. RAW, a small restaurant in the Former French Concession, exemplifies this creative fusion.
The chef, a Shanghai native who studied in Paris, creates dishes that honor Chinese ingredients while employing French techniques. The menu changes frequently, but standouts during my visit included tea-smoked duck breast with kumquat compote and a stunning black cod with black bean sauce and fennel.
What I love about RAW is that it doesn’t feel gimmicky. The fusion elements make culinary sense rather than existing just for shock value. It’s the kind of place where you can see Shanghai’s future as a global food city taking shape.
The space is intimate—just 30 seats—with an open kitchen where you can watch the chef work his magic. Reservations are essential, as locals have definitely discovered this gem.
Unexpected bonus: They serve natural wines, which are still relatively uncommon in Shanghai. The small but thoughtful list focuses on smaller producers from France and Italy.
Practical Tips for Navigating Shanghai’s Restaurant Scene
Reservations and Timing
First things first: popular shanghai restaurant reservations are a MUST, especially for high-end places and trendy spots. I learned this the hard way when I tried to casually walk into Imperial Treasure on a Saturday night. The hostess actually laughed at me. Not a chuckle—a full-on laugh before saying they were booked solid for the next three weeks.
For top restaurants, book at least a week in advance, two weeks for places like Ultraviolet (though realistically, you need months of advance planning for that one). Many restaurants now use apps for reservations, but they’re often in Chinese only. If you’re staying at a hotel, the concierge can be incredibly helpful for securing tables.
As for timing, Shanghai follows different dining patterns than the West. Lunch is typically from 11:30am to 1:30pm, while dinner starts around 6:00pm and can go late, especially on weekends. Many restaurants offer specialty lunch sets that give you a taste of their menu at a fraction of dinner prices—this is a great way to experience high-end places on a budget.
Payment and Tipping
Shanghai is increasingly cashless, with most locals paying via WeChat Pay or Alipay. This can be challenging for tourists since these systems are tied to Chinese bank accounts. Larger and more tourist-friendly restaurants accept international credit cards, but smaller establishments and street food vendors might not.
My strategy was to always carry some cash as backup. Smaller notes (20s, 50s, and 100s) are better since vendors sometimes struggle to make change for larger bills.
As for tipping—it’s not expected in Shanghai. In fact, at some local places, servers might chase you down the street to return a tip they think you accidentally left! High-end Western restaurants are the exception, where a 10% service charge is often automatically added to the bill.
Dietary Restrictions and Communication
Having dietary restrictions in Shanghai can be challenging but not impossible. If you’re vegetarian, look for Buddhist restaurants where no meat is served. For other restrictions, I found that carrying a card with your dietary needs written in Chinese was incredibly helpful (you can find printable versions online).
Here’s where I made a rookie mistake: I showed my “I’m allergic to peanuts” card at a restaurant, and they nodded understandingly. Two dishes later, I was biting into cashews. Turns out, my card specifically mentioned peanuts, but not tree nuts. Be very specific with your requirements!
Some shanghai restaurants now have picture menus or English translations, but they’re not always accurate. I once ordered what was translated as “country-style potatoes” and received a plate of frog legs. They were delicious, but definitely not potatoes.
Where to Stay for Food Lovers
Your choice of hotels can significantly impact your culinary adventure. Here are my recommendations based on proximity to great food:
The Former French Concession
This charming area is home to tree-lined streets, beautiful architecture, and some of the city’s best restaurants. Staying here puts you within walking distance of places like Lost Heaven, RAW, and countless local gems.
I spent my first week at the Capella Shanghai, which is set in a historic shikumen building complex. Besides being gorgeous, it was perfectly positioned for food exploration. From upscale dining to street food, everything was accessible on foot or a short Didi (Chinese Uber) ride away.
Near The Bund
If you’re more into the high-end dining scene, staying near the Bund puts you close to Shanghai’s most prestigious restaurants. The Waldorf Astoria, Peninsula, and Peace Hotel are all great options.
I moved to the Peninsula for my second week and loved being able to walk to Mr & Mrs Bund and Imperial Treasure. The hotel itself has excellent dining options, including Sir Elly’s with its spectacular rooftop terrace.
Jing’an District
For a mix of local and international options, Jing’an offers great variety. The Kerry Hotel and Jing An Shangri-La are both surrounded by malls with excellent food courts (don’t scoff—mall dining in Shanghai is legitimately good) and traditional lanes with local eateries.
Seasonal Specialties Worth Planning Around
Shanghai’s food scene changes with the seasons, with certain specialties appearing for just a few weeks each year. If you’re a serious food lover, consider timing your visit accordingly:
Spring (March-May): Fresh bamboo shoots are a delicacy that appears on menus throughout the city. Shanghai hairy crab also makes a brief appearance in spring before returning again in autumn.
Summer (June-August): Lotus root dishes are at their peak, along with a variety of cooling foods like chilled mung bean soup and cold noodle dishes.
Autumn (September-November): This is prime hairy crab season, when shanghai restaurants offer special menus dedicated to this prized crustacean. It’s a big deal—people go absolutely crab-crazy during these months.
Winter (December-February): Hot pot restaurants do their briskest business, and you’ll find warming foods like claypot rice and hearty stews on many menus.
I visited in summer, which meant dealing with the humidity but getting to experience the incredible array of seasonal fruits and cooling dishes that Shanghai does so well.
Final Thoughts: Shanghai’s Culinary Evolution
What fascinated me most about Shanghai’s food scene was witnessing its evolution in real-time. This is a city that honors its culinary heritage while constantly innovating and absorbing influences from around the world.
In a single day, I ate a traditional breakfast from a street vendor whose family had been making the same recipe for generations, lunched at a hole-in-the-wall noodle shop unchanged for decades, and dined at a restaurant pushing the boundaries of modern Chinese cuisine with molecular gastronomy techniques.
That contrast—that vibrant tension between old and new—is what makes Shanghai such an exciting destination for food lovers. The city feels like it’s simultaneously preserving its past and racing toward the future, and nowhere is this more evident than in its restaurants.
Will Shanghai soon rival Tokyo, Paris, and New York as a global culinary capital? I think it already does—the world just hasn’t quite caught up to that reality yet.
So go now, before everyone else discovers what I found: Shanghai isn’t just a city with good food—it’s one of the most exciting, diverse, and dynamic food cities on the planet. Just remember to pack stretchy pants. Trust me, you’ll need them.
FAQs About Shanghai Restaurants
Q: Is it safe to eat street food in Shanghai?
A: Generally, yes! Street food in Shanghai is delicious and usually safe, but use common sense: look for vendors with lines of locals, check that meat is thoroughly cooked, and ease into it if you have a sensitive stomach. I ate street food daily with no issues, but started with simpler items before working up to more adventurous choices.
Q: How much should I budget for meals in Shanghai?
A: Shanghai can accommodate any budget. Street food and local restaurants can cost as little as $3-10 per person for a satisfying meal. Mid-range restaurants usually run $15-30 per person. High-end experiences start around $50 and can go up to several hundred dollars for places like Ultraviolet. I averaged about $40 per day, mixing cheap breakfast and lunches with nicer dinners.
Q: Do I need to speak Chinese to dine in Shanghai?
A: For tourist-oriented and high-end restaurants, English menus are common and staff often speak some English. For local spots, communication can be challenging but rewarding! Pictures on your phone, pointing, and a translation app can work wonders. Some of my best meals came from restaurants where no one spoke English and I ordered by pointing at what looked good on other tables.
Q: What’s the best way to find authentic local restaurants?
A: Follow the locals! Restaurants with lines during lunch hour are usually good bets. Apps like Dianping (the Chinese equivalent of Yelp) can help, though they’re mostly in Chinese. Walking through residential neighborhoods away from tourist areas almost always leads to authentic finds. Don’t be afraid of places that look basic—some of Shanghai’s best food comes from the most unassuming spots.
Q: Is Shanghai a good destination for vegetarians?
A: It’s getting better! Traditional Shanghai cuisine is heavy on meat and seafood, but Buddhist restaurants offer purely vegetarian options. Many modern restaurants now cater to vegetarians with dedicated menu sections. Places like Fu He Hui prove that vegetarian dining in Shanghai can be world-class. Be specific about your needs though—”vegetarian” might be interpreted differently than in Western countries.