My China offers a collection of cuisines from China’s spiciest culinary regions – Sichuan and Hunan – as well as a range of classic Beijing dishes. Chefs hailing from those regions ensure authenticity, scaling the quality up with organic ingredients. Three levels of spiciness are indicated by the number of green chilli symbols beside the name of a dish; red chillis are a guide to the “authenticity” of the dish.

“A Taste of Home” is a regular magazine column in which we ask the natives of a particular country to introduce us to their national cuisine.

“This has really become the meeting place for us,” says Czech Embassy staffer Veronika Musilova, sipping a glass of Staropramen at Czech Pub. “I can’t come here at the weekend without meeting some of my Czech friends,” laughs Veronika, before confessing that some of her mates may even show up later that evening. This was a Monday.

CORRECTION: The following article appears exactly as printed in the Beijinger's November issue. Otaku's management has since pointed out that Otaku should not be linked with Izaka-Ya and Jazz-Ya as part of a "family" of venues, as our article implies. We apologize for any offense caused. 

Otaku follows Spice Factory as the second recent addition to Li Bo’s stable of stylish venues, also including Jazz-Ya, d lounge and Izaka-Ya. It’s as obsessively tasteful as the rest of the family, but gets bashful with manga art and cocktails in bubble tea cups. The quirks won’t wash with everyone, but are minor distractions.

A school friend of mine had a peculiar food foible. He would insist that his baked beans be served apart from his sausage and chips. Far apart, as in a separate bowl. This inconsequential tic lay dormant in my subconscious for years … until I had the dipping ramen (RMB 29-35) at Moon Concubine Izakaya. Noodles, pork, egg and nori in one bowl, soup in another. The menu warns that on no account should you add the soup to the noodles. Presumably doing so would usher in a reign of Akira-esque chaos. Or maybe it’s just something about dulling the texture of the noodles. Cleverly, the soup is thick and salty enough to ensure each dunking imbues a satisfactorily saucy coating. Lots of fun, but they also have regular ramen for you stick-in-the-muds.

This neat, peaceful café offers an alternative to nearby Panino Teca for embassy staff and health freaks. Every item reflects the health-conscious philosophy of the Chinese owner, who studied nutrition in Canada for six years.