It began with the first shot glass of Jian Nan Chun or “blade of the southern spring”, it was so cold, so potent - like a glass of cold fire down my throat. It immediately lit and warmed the stomach as someone on the table mentioned that the wine was one of Chengdu’s finest and the 52% alcohol content does not induce teetering. That’s what he said. And thus began yet another one of the little joys and adventures of my job.

The eatery I was ushered to by Jessie, a Singaporean operating a public relations firm in Chengdu, was, at the least, spectacular and reeks of typical modern Chinese grandiose. A grand reception was manned by two porcelain complexioned and friendly greeters. Frankly, nothing was unexpected so far, not even the megawatt smiles and the stunning low key mood set in the high ceiling chandeliered reception are scored no points, as most eateries of this class in China, at the least, engage your senses at that level at entry point. The entire restaurant was a private rooms only establishment as “ it’s designed to be a decadent private dining experience,” explained Jessie, who went on to throw me off, “ the owners can’t be with us tonight as they are high powered former civil servants and need to keep a low profile. Okay, whatever. And then she chorused it with an “I hope you are hungry, we have pre-ordered 18 dishes, excluding liang chai (cold starters)”. I pretended with a “wah, so much, don’t know can finish or not”. Then, a toast (the second of about ten throughout the night), and the second glass of cold fire went in and I felt room went warmer on me, instantly. So I tore into this salad and ate first (and ask later what it was- an alpha male glutton trait), and realized it was finely shredded pig ear’s salad with julienne greens fired with a brush of mala Szechuan peppercorn and chilli oil – the sting, crunch and the crisp, was simply appealing. The black chicken feet drenched again in mala spices and the glass prawns infused with chinese tea…not so attention grabbing. And in quick succession, a few platters was graciously plonked on our table, and I distinctly remembered the bite sized pork cartilage tossed in red and green chilli and further dressed with onions and ginger slices, capped with a crispy potato net, the ultimate beer snack. And in celebration of my joy, two more glasses of wine went in before two toasting.

Smile, and do sms your friends on how they present this roast beef platter.

Finally, the party started- the noise level in room went up and the laughter was incessant and they brought my highlight of the evening- a braised then roasted beef shank, presented in two styles, a row of the fatter cuts and another, the leaner slices. The bone sat in the middle like a phallic reminder of its source, looking like some sms emoticon. To say the least, the presentation was meant to shock, but I was not about to eat it with my eyes. The beef, with a very light hint of salt, surrendered with just a soft chew and disappeared so easily in. The accompanying chilli oils and spicy dip were mere distractions. I was moaning in joy when another toast came my way and I then confronted a shui zhu yue, a sliced up fresh carp fish buried under a mountain (no kidding) of chopped green chillis and fresh Szechuan peppercorns with nothing else. I carefully picked on the fish only and it too, went in like fire, just like the next cup they toasted me with ( it felt like the second bottle by now).

Somehow I managed a decently sharp shot of the tea master.

By then, I swear to drunk, I’m not God, as they laid out little mantou bread cups for us to fill with a platter of spicy sotong and pork fillings. Or was it for the tea served up by this tea master, up next, who spun, jumped and stretched about in dramatic fashion with his long spouted teapot, just to serve us a fine cup of chinese tea. It went supremely fine with the frog legs and Baling shredded Baling mushrooms in spicy coriander broth. It also calmed, somewhat, the alcohol raging inside and helped my feet feel the floor again.

Then some dessert, I think it was a holed out papaya with honeyed snow frogs (hashima) inside. Pardon me if it wasn’t. I was assured it was by the folks who drank less. There, a great meal with fine wine, good company and service over at least 18 courses, I think. Watch the video of the tea master at our makansutra website this weekend, it will vindicate me.