[Chic & Savory] Cila, Xibei-fusion, put this place on your list

Credit: Brandon McGhee

The Place:

Xibei fusion cuisine with an onomatopoetic name ("Cila", I'm told, is the sizzling sound that cooking oil makes when you splash it into a hot wok – TSSSS-LAAAAAAAAA!) The word "Xibei" (northwest) covers a broad swath of territory in China. The Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region alone is over 1.6 million square kilometers. And we haven't even accounted for the other stops on the Silk Road that we often associate with this region: Gansu, Shaanxi, Ningxia, and Qinghai. Except for your garden variety Xinjiang restaurant (which all have the same menu), that highly polished and corporate Xibei Youmian Cun chain, those liangpi stands that pop up in the summer months, and, of course, the standard Lanzhou lamian joint, food from this vast region is still tragically underrepresented in Shanghai. That was Xi'an native and digital designer-turned-restaurateur AI's (the name she prefers to go by) thinking when she conceived the idea for Cila. And she had a point. Be honest. Do you have a go-to place for proper Xi'an-style noodles? I certainly don't. I'll bet you don't either. What place comes to mind in Shanghai when you think of Ningxia cuisine? For that matter, do you even think of Ningxia cuisine? …Yeah…I didn't think so.

Credit: Brandon McGhee

The Vibe

It's slightly gritty with a post-industrial vibe. This used to be 404 Izakaya, the Oha Group's short-lived foray into fusion Japanese. Back then the bar was the focal point. That's been replaced by an open kitchen.

Additionally, the wood paneling on the walls has been stripped down to bare concrete. The tile floors are now tarmac. Here and there the walls are emblazoned with the silhouette of a mythical beast that looks like it was etched on a rock face circa when humans discovered fire.

Credit: Brandon McGhee

Credit: Brandon McGhee

A soundtrack of pulsating, vaguely tribal music keeps the energy levels at a consistently high-level hum. You'll also notice one of those wine solaria that you now see in the city's hipper haunts. Be sure to walk in for a quick browse. Cila stocks a variety of wines from China's northwest as well as some very cool domestically produced ciders made from fruits like pear and peach. They're well worth a try.

Credit: Brandon McGhee

Credit: Brandon McGhee

The Food:

Mario Chen is the man behind the food. He's a former Jean Georges sous chef who brings that steely focus and discipline with him to this kitchen. You can't miss him. He's the one guy in a chef's coat who is constantly looking out in the dining room, not at the cooks. He doesn't have to look at them. They're all thoroughly dialed in.

Credit: Brandon McGhee

Fusion cuisine sits on a knife's edge. Stumble off the straight and narrow and all you're doing is gimmicks and clumsy flavor combinations. But Chen toes the line gracefully; there is a lot to love here. It can be as simple as a starter of brittle, paper-thin beef jerky dusted with that familiar barbecue spice rub of chili powder, cumin, Sichuan peppercorn, and sesame seeds. He levels it up with M9 wagyu beef. Everyday non-marble-scored beef would probably have sufficed, but hey, it's a tasty start to a meal.

Credit: Brandon McGhee

His salads are worth a look too. Unique produce from the region gets a contemporary treatment. A skein of subtly sweet wild chives, for instance, is presented on a mound of shredded dried tofu, drizzled with soy and vinegar, and topped with dried chilies. Walnuts give an added crunch. Likewise, tender shoots of Ningxia milk cabbage match beautifully with peppery arugula, dukka spices, grapes, and citrus vinaigrette.

Credit: Brandon McGhee

Other starters come from opposite ends of the Silk Road, like Chen's homemade ricotta. It's served with a dollop of sea buckthorn jam in the middle and buckwheat chips (that look like oversized bran flakes) for dipping – sweet, sour, savory, and crispy. By the way, if you've ever eaten at Jean George's Mercato on the Bund, you know exactly where he got his inspiration. Jean Georges does a similar dish with strawberry jam and toasted sourdough. Chen's adaptation would make his old boss proud.

Credit: Brandon McGhee

Mains like his Ningxia Lahuhu Spicy Chicken Curry Thigh turn a soup into a sauce. A popular snack in the city of Yinchuan, lahuhu is a style of hotpot that takes the flavors of that spice rub I mentioned above and turns them into a thick bubbling stew. Chen reduces it further into a creamy curry-like gravy and smothers a grilled boneless chicken thigh with it. What's even more remarkable is that Chen manages to use this same spice palette across multiple dishes, and it never seems to get boring. It's a no-brainer on lamb chops. They're served with a pleasantly pungent leek puree and some of those wild chives thrown in for good measure. Then, there are dishes, where Chen lets tradition speak for itself, like Xi'an-style youpo mian, or oil-splashed noodles. What's more is there to say. It's a bowl of thick, broad, springy noodles coated in hot oil, chili flakes, sesame seeds, soy and vinegar. Pretty hard to improve upon that.

Credit: Brandon McGhee

Then, for dessert, why not something simple? A dried persimmon stuffed with delicately creamy homemade cheese topped with ground nuts.

Credit: Brandon McGhee

The Damage:

Totally reasonable. Expect to pay around 50-70 yuan for small dishes. Bigger dishes are around twice that, the 150 to 180 yuan range. That persimmon dessert is 46 yuan. Two people could enjoy a very satisfying dinner and a bottle of wine or cider for about just north of 700 yuan.

Good For:

First dates with curious foodies.

Credit: Brandon McGhee