What Are The Signature Dishes At Xia Rooftop Bistro?

One of my favorite rooftop spots to recommend, xia rooftop bistro tends to sit in the mid-to-upscale range — not absurdly pricey but definitely a step above fast casual. For light bites and starters you can expect roughly $8–$15, with shareable plates and flatbreads more like $14–$25. Main courses usually fall between $16 and $35 depending on protein and how adventurous the dish is. Drinks push the total up: beers and wine by the glass are often $8–$14, cocktails hover around $12–$18, and a craft cocktail plus a main and a small plate will usually put you around $30–$50 per person. They sometimes run a weekend brunch or tasting evening where a fixed menu can be $35–$65 if you go full experience. For a casual date or meet-up I typically budget $40–$60 each if cocktails are involved, but you can definitely do a lighter visit for under $25 if you stick to a couple of mains and water. I love that the price feels fair for the skyline view and relaxed vibe — it’s the kind of place where I’ll splurge for sunset once in a while and save for it the rest of the month.

If you're aiming to snag a sunset seat at Xia Rooftop Bistro, here's the routine I follow that usually does the trick. First I check their official website for a reservations page — many rooftop spots let you pick date, time, and seating preference there. If an online widget isn't available, I call the number listed; I like speaking to a human because you can confirm whether they hold tables for sunset or need a deposit for larger groups. When I call I say the exact arrival time, party size, and note any special occasion so they can try to place us near the edge or under cover. If the phone lines are busy, I slide into their social media DMs or use email. My messages are short: date, time, number of people, a note about seating preference, and a contact number. For weekends or holiday evenings I book at least a week in advance; for prime sunset spots I aim for two weeks. I also ask about cancellation policies and weather contingency — rooftops sometimes move reservations indoors if the forecast turns sour. On the day I arrive a touch early and confirm with the host; being polite goes a long way in getting a better vantage point. If it's a special celebration I bring a small plan (cake or flowers) and mention it ahead so staff can help. I love that rooftop vibe — it’s worth the little planning, honestly.

Totally digging the vibe up there, so here's what I usually tell friends: Xia Rooftop Bistro opens every day at 11:30 AM and wraps up service at 11:00 PM. If you’re looking to grab a late bite, the kitchen typically takes last orders around 10:30 PM, but the bar sometimes keeps pouring a bit later on Friday and Saturday nights — think midnight-ish for cocktail service when the crowd's right. I like to split visits depending on mood: brunch or early-lunch crowds around noon, golden-hour window seats around 5:30–7:30 PM, and a cozier, music-driven scene after 9. The rooftop is weather-dependent, so the open-air sections might close earlier in bad weather, while the indoor area stays on its normal schedule. If you’re planning something special, I’d aim for a reservation in the evening — the sunset views fill up fast. For me, those 11:30–23:00 hours strike a perfect balance between daytime chill and night-time energy; I always try to catch the sunset up there.

I love how Xia Rooftop Bistro doesn’t treat plant-based eaters like an afterthought. When I dine there, I’m always happy to find a clear vegetarian section and a surprisingly robust set of vegan options, not just salads with a sad look. Their seasonal vegetable small plates—like charred broccolini with sesame, miso-roasted eggplant, and a citrusy roasted beet salad—are crafted with real care. On my last visit I ordered a vegan take on their signature ramen that swapped the broth for a rich mushroom base and piled on silken tofu, scallions, and crunchy garlic chips. The staff have been helpful about swaps: they’ll remove cheese, swap dressings for vinaigrettes or citrus oil, and point out gluten-free choices too. Desserts include sorbets and a coconut-based panna cotta that’s creamy without dairy. Cocktails on the rooftop also play nice with non-dairy preferences—think a yuzu spritz or a mezcal with a grapefruit finish. Overall, Xia feels like a place where vegans and vegetarians get real options rather than token ones, and I always leave feeling both satisfied and a little smug about discovering another great plant-forward spot.

The rooftop at Xia absolutely doubles as a little live-music hideaway on many nights — I’ve been a few times and it always feels like a compact festival under the stars. They bring in local acoustic acts and small jazz trios, and some weekends feature a DJ spinning mellow sets that fit the sunset-to-night shift. The sound setup is intimate rather than stadium-level, so it's perfect for conversations that don't get drowned out; there's usually a small raised area or corner for performers and a subtle PA system. On the private-event side, Xia handles birthdays, rehearsal dinners, small corporate mixers, and engagement parties. They offer tailored menus, cocktail packages, and basic AV (microphone and small speaker) — you can request extra touches like string lights, a custom cake setup, or a plated tasting menu. The staff coordinates timing and weather contingencies for the rooftop, and I found their event manager responsive when I helped a friend plan a surprise. All told, it's one of my favorite spots for a cozy, memorable night with live tunes and skyline views; I always leave humming a song.

Stepping through the low-lit entrance of Yue Bistro, the aroma of soy, caramelized shallots, and toasted sesame always greets me like an old friend. I head straight for the dishes that feel like the restaurant’s signature calling cards: the Crispy Honey Walnut Prawns — light, pillowy batter hugging sweet-tangy honey glaze with chilled candied walnuts for contrast — and the Char Siu that arrives lacquered and glossy, each slice smoky, slightly sweet, and tender enough to almost melt. Another cornerstone for me is their Steamed Whole Fish with ginger and scallion: delicate, flaky fish steamed just right, its broth bright with citrusy rice wine and fragrant aromatics. The second visit tends to be the one where I order the Mapo Tofu with a Yue twist — they temper the Sichuan heat, giving it a numbing backnote rather than a full-on blaze, and the silky tofu soaks up the aromatic sauce. Small plates that keep the table lively include Xiao Long Bao that still manages that broth burst and the signature Lotus Leaf Sticky Rice; the latter has bits of Chinese sausage, mushrooms, and pork folded into glutinous rice that’s both comforting and complex. For drinks I’ll often pair these with their jasmine tea or a cold plum soda that cuts through the richer flavors. Dessert-wise, I can’t skip the Baked Egg Tarts: buttery, flaky shells giving way to a slightly wobbly, caramelized custard. The whole experience is a parade of textures and balanced flavors — comfort food with craft — and it always leaves me scheming my next visit.

Nan Xiang Restaurant is a treasure trove of Shanghainese flavors, and their xiaolongbao is practically legendary. The delicate, paper-thin wrappers encasing piping hot, savory broth and tender pork filling are a masterclass in dumpling craftsmanship. I still recall the first time I bit into one—the burst of rich, umami-packed soup was pure magic. Their crab roe xiaolongbao, a seasonal specialty, takes it up a notch with briny sweetness woven into the mix. Beyond dumplings, their braised pork belly ('hongshao rou') is a must-try—glazed in sticky, caramelized soy sauce and so tender it melts on the tongue. Pair it with their crispy-bottomed scallion pancakes, and you’ve got a meal that’s comfort food perfection. Their cold appetizers, like drunken chicken marinated in Shaoxing wine, also shine with subtle, aromatic depth.

Walking into Nawa Bistro feels like stumbling into a friend's beautifully kept secret — cozy light, lively chatter, and that delicious smell of woodfire and herbs. My top pick is their charred octopus: it’s smoky with a slight char-crisp edge and sits on a bed of tangy salsa verde that keeps each bite bright. I always pair it with a crisp white — the citrus notes play well with the ocean flavors. Another dish I go back for is the braised short rib with rosemary-polenta. The meat falls apart and has this buttery, savory depth that makes you want to linger over conversation. For something lighter, the ricotta gnocchi in browned butter and sage is pillowy and nostalgic, like a grown-up comfort food that still feels fancy. Save room for the saffron panna cotta; it’s floral, silky, and finishes the meal on a soft, perfect note. Every visit I find myself recommending different plates to friends — it’s one of those places where the menu rewards curiosity, and I always leave planning my next trip back.

Walking into Kanto Bistro I always get a little giddy — the menu reads like a love letter to comfort food with a clever twist. My top pick there is their tonkotsu-style ramen: a deep, milky pork broth that clings to springy noodles, topped with a perfectly soft-boiled egg, green onions, and a hint of sesame oil. It’s rich without being cloying, and I usually order it with an extra slice of chashu if I’m feeling indulgent. Another crowd-pleaser that I’ve dragged friends back for is the katsu curry — crisp panko cutlet swimming in a thick, slightly sweet curry sauce served over fragrant rice. It hits every texture note I love: crunchy, saucy, and utterly satisfying. For sharers, the yakitori platter and gyoza are consistently popular; the skewers have that charred, savory glaze and the dumplings have a punchy filling with a perfect crisp bottom. Dessert-wise, their matcha cheesecake and mochi ice cream are surprisingly balanced — not too sweet, with real matcha bitterness that cuts through the meal. Drinks like the yuzu spritz or a light sake pairing make a good companion to heavier dishes. If you’re vegetarian, don’t miss the tofu katsu or vegetable donburi — they transform simple ingredients into something memorable. Honestly, Kanto Bistro’s menu feels thoughtful and unpretentious, and I always leave planning my next visit before I’m out the door.

Walking into Chuan Chili House feels like stepping into a spice carnival — the air thick with chili oil and toasted Sichuan peppercorns. I usually start with their Chongqing-style chicken (La Zi Ji): bite-sized pieces, super crispy, and blasted with dried chilies and numbing peppercorns. It’s not just heat; there’s a crunchy texture and a floral tingle that makes you keep reaching for more. Mapo tofu is another signature I always order. Their version has that glossy, red-brown sauce from fermented broad-bean paste (doubanjiang), silky tofu, and a scattered dusting of ground peppercorn that leaves a pleasant buzz. Dan Dan noodles show up with rich sesame and peanut depth, lifted by chili oil and scallions, and they balance meatiness and umami perfectly. Other favorites I recommend are twice-cooked pork, dry-pot vegetables, and Sichuan boiled fish if you like soupy heat. For sides, get the smashed cucumbers and cold tofu to calm the palate. I pair everything with ice-cold beer or soy milk when the spice gets intense — they round out the experience beautifully and I walk out both satisfied and plotting my next visit.