The China Club - where Berlin’s elite vanish behind closed doors and walls hung with priceless Chinese art, hides one of the city’s best-kept culinary secrets. Tucked into a discreet courtyard behind Hotel Adlon, if you’re lucky enough to find the right door bell, you’ll be spirited into a clandestine world where only the elites convene—think entrepreneurs, actors, artists, moving around one of Europe’s most coveted, Chinese Art collections collected by owner Anna Maria Jagdfeld.
You could call it Berlin’s poshest treehouse, albeit one that’s a tad pricy (cheapest yearly membership is 4.000 EUR). For years, this place felt like an urban myth to me, rumored to house Germany’s finest Chinese food. The whisper on the street was that they had the same chef for 20 years and that he was cooking Berlin’s (some said Germany’s) best Peking duck. As exciting that sounded, to those of us without the right pedigree, including myself, the China Club was a locked fortress.
“ For years, this place felt like an urban myth to me, rumored to house Germany’s finest Chinese food.
Until one day, when I interviewed Berlin’s most famous chef Tim Raue and he also chimed in on the notion that the China Club was the best Chinese restaurant in Berlin and, more importantly, that he was good friends with Chef Tam Kok Kong. Soon thereafter, an idea was born: I was going to talk my way into the China Club with the help of Tim Raue. After months of strategic groveling and an audacious pitch to do a film of our meal with Tim and his wife Katharina, I managed to score a spot at this legendary table. This is the story of that meal. Please watch the video below for the full story and subsribe to our YouTube Channel!
Once inside, the China Club was as rich and unbothered as its patrons. Bathed in the simmering light of a 1920s Shanghai fantasy, it’s a scene straight out of a noir film, all dark wood, plush leather, and dimly lit elegance. The club occupies two floors and includes two restaurants, a bar, a leather cigar lounge and several private chambers. To ensure discretion for all club members, we sat down and filmed our meal in one of the private chambers
When the food finally hit the table, this was clearly not your standard Tuesday night dim sum run. With Raue’s guidance and expertise based on many visits to the restaurant, we plunged into an expertly curated menu, though “plunged” might be too energetic a word for what really amounted to watching Raue order like a kid in a candy store.
First up: dim sum, filled with fat, luscious crab meat and Ha Kao with thick shrimps that set a decadent tone, and despite the wrappers missing that ethereal thinness one would want, the quality of the fillings shone loudly.
Next - Cantonese roasted pork belly, which Raue declared “better than any German Schweinebraten.” And honestly, I couldn’t argue. Superb Chinese BBQ with that exact crust you want. Then seafood arrived in waves, starting with a thick piece of steamed cod loin glistening in soy and goji berries, delicate enough to make Raue almost poetic. Then came stir-fried turbot with green asparagus and ginger that had me rethinking my life Chinese food choices up to that point. A wild caught Turbot in pieces, perfectly cooked - this was a dream come true and something no other restaurant in the city offers. Of course, priced at 38 EUR you also pay for that produce.
When the sweet-and-sour pork hit the table, Katharina Raue’s smile reached a new altitude. This wasn’t the sad, gooey version we know; it was a glossy, melt-in-your-mouth wonder, using extraordinary melt-in-your mouth pork, a true love letter to the dish and by far the best of its kind in the city.
Not everything hit these lofty heights: the eggplants in "Ma-Po" sauce were respectable enough, though you’d find better renditions at Da Jia Le or You Mi, and the green beans with onions? Let’s just say, same story.
“ Order strategically, and you’re likely to experience one of Berlin’s most exquisite meals—provided, of course, you can pass through those elusive doors
Then, the grand Peking duck moment arrived - was it going to live up to the expectations?! Spoiler: It did. This duck skin was crispy as a manifesto and a shattering statement of the quality of this kitchen. Raue assembled the “ultimate” duck pancake for us, layering a chili soy sauce (chpped bird’s eye in soy) with cucumbers, leeks, and a double helping of that sacred skin (one wrapped into the outer layer), the whole thing crunching blissfully with every bite. Berlin’s best Peking duck? In terms of crunchy skin factor, I would say yes.
The eggplants in “Ma-Po” sauce were solid, but you can get better versions in restaurants such as Da Jia Le and You Mi, and I would argue the same about the green beans with onions.
To finish, Tam’s Hunan lamb appeared—a flaming, chili-spiked stir-fry infused with Wok Hei flavor from Chef’s flaming wok. Tim loved it so much that we promptly trooped upstairs to ask Chef Tam his secrets, and he obliged, folding flames into his wok like a fire-breathing dragon in a chef’s coat.
We left the China Club with our favorites firmly chosen: Tim Raue, thoroughly enraptured, dubbed the lamb a stroke of genius; Katharina was still waxing lyrical about the turbot and the pork, and I was hopelessly conflicted between the ethereal crunch of the duck pancake and that divine turbot. But does that make the China Club Berlin’s best Chinese restaurant? Well, it’s certainly Berlin’s most exclusive—and let’s not forget, one of its priciest. Thanks to our hosts, we avoided the heart-stopping 300-euro bill that would normally accompany such an experience. But even without the price tag, there’s no denying the singular quality of Chef Tam’s cooking and the ingredients he wields. The fish and duck alone could carry the restaurant’s reputation, and the setting—a plush retreat steeped in understated luxury and old-world mystique—is as unforgettable as the food.
Order strategically, and you’re likely to experience one of Berlin’s most exquisite meals—provided, of course, you can pass through those elusive doors. Should you feel inspired, membership applications await here: China Club Membership.