Chinese Import

The Cantonese menu also yielded a plate of impeccably fresh, crisp dry-sautéed string beans, slightly garlicky, with a touch of mild Chinese pickle sauce. Off the menu, we requested baby bok choy, also simply wok-tossed with a bit of chicken broth. These served as vegetal foils for the dazzling pig's knuckle, an unprepossessing brown leathery-looking lump on the plate. The leather proved to be pigskin that had become whisper-thin and crunchy, as addictive (but tastier) than potato chips when cut into strips, under which is tender pork that turns to shreds when you simply look at it hard. A garnish of bright-green fried seaweed adds crunchy texture. It's an amazing dish. Equally remarkable were the prosaically titled braised meatballs with vegetables — sometimes seen under the more romantic moniker of lion's head — actually five or six nice-sized meatballs in brown sauce with bok choy and bamboo shoots. Under a thin crust, the balls were unusually light and airy, almost mousselike in texture.

I was less enamored of the unusual stir-fried Shanghai rice cake, served with thin noodles and vegetables. The sliced cake had a chewy, gelatinous texture, and little taste. I was also not fully convinced by the green onion with dry shrimp braised noodle; there were plenty of onions and noodles, but not much more. Certainly there was no hint of shrimp.

For a sweet finish, although we'd eaten almost to the point of pain, we tried the long, barely sweet crullers called Chinese doughnuts, which, as well as the fried bread we'd started with, were testament to the kitchen's skill: light and almost greaseless. We also had a dish called sweet sticky rice ball in rice wine, soft dumplings filled with bean paste floating in an extremely alcoholic sweet broth.

Five of us had enjoyed a feast for about $30 per person, tax and tip included. (Caveat emptor: Shanghai House is cash only, but, as with the convenient source of alcohol, there's an ATM less than a block west.) Top candidates for a future visit, given the perfection of most of what we had: cold plates of drunken chicken, five-spice smoked fish, spicy beef, stewed pork with vegetables, the order-ahead pig knuckle with brown sauce, steamed fish with black bean and chile sauce, and the irresistible, slightly mad-sounding crab's "chevllenge." Why did I not ask what that was? I think I was too distracted by what was on my plate.