It takes a certain kind of optimism (or masochism) to open a Chinese restaurant on Torstrasse in Mitte, or more specifically, in the large terrace venue on the corner of Tucholsky and Torstrasse. The last few tenants here have folded faster than a paper dumpling: an Israeli place no one remembers, a Thai joint even fewer mourned. So when Chuan Garden quietly appeared in late 2025, the general response was pretty much a collective “good Luck”.

But then came the plot twist: the chefs are the former heads of Himmelspagode, that baroque monstrosity masquerading as a temple in Hohen Neuendorf, and now they’ve landed in Mitte to start over at Chuan Garden.

What they like, it turns out, is rabbit. A lot of it. Sourced from their hometown of Zigong, Sichuan province, where rabbit is treated less like a cuddly pet and more like Tuesday dinner. There is a Chinese saying that says “No rabbit ever made it out alive from Zigong”. At Chuan Garden, the rabbit arrives cold and spiced, or bobbing in a wild ginger hotpot, bones and all. You will spend more time navigating cartilage than conversation, but the flavours are properly bold, with the sort of slow-building heat that makes you sweat politely.

The kitchen, thankfully, knows exactly what it’s doing. The fish dishes are exemplary, particularly the whole fish smothered in chilies and garlic, which manages the rare feat of being both fiery and subtle and glides off the bones in the most delightful way. The double chili beef, where minced Angus beef is fried with a boatload of chilis, is spicy and superbly tasty and so is the Sichuan chicken, which is fried to a light perfection without using too much batter (a gripe of mine with versions of this dish across the city). Do also not miss the Pork belly on Mustard Greens, where thin slivers of melt-in-your-mouth pork belly are beautifully contrasted by the punchy greens.

Be warned: the menu is long and uneven, and some of the Sichuan dishes end up tasting suspiciously similar as they are using the same ingredients. Order carelessly and you’ll end up with four variations of “protein in a mountains of chili.” Also, a lot of the wet dished use a bit too much oil, and yes, so does most of Sichuan, but here it’s a bit over the top. Order well though and you’ll be rewarded with deep, clean flavours with assertive yet not overwhelming spice.

Chuan Garden is more polished than many of its counterparts and that in a city where Sichuan menus are popping up all over the place, here’s a place actually run by Sichuanese chefs, cooking the food from their home town. You’ll wrestle bones, wipe your brow, and probably over-order. But you’ll also taste some of the most honest, interesting Chinese food East Berlin’s seen in a while. And the massive terrace might be the perfect place for chili sweats this summer.