The Tatler Best 20 Restaurants in Hong Kong 2025

Agustin Balbi’s Andō is a deeply personal reflection of his Argentine heritage and Japanese experience. His flavourful combinations and precise technique make Andō a restaurant that surprises in its subtlety rather than its spectacle. But Balbi’s impact extends beyond the plate—his partnership with More Good has turned his kitchen into a force for social change, preparing meals for underserved communities alongside fellow chefs and food writers. It’s this ethos—of heightened expression, humility and generosity—that cements it as one of Hong Kong’s most compelling dining experiences.

With its opulent setting, sublime French cuisine, including one of the most formidable cheese cellars in Asia, Caprice epitomises timeless gastronomic luxury. Under chef Guillaume Galliot’s watchful eye, the menu strikes a delicate balance between flawless execution and indulgence, whether through his signature langoustine with caviar or impeccably executed seasonal creations that bring fresh perspectives to his refined French repertoire. While many restaurants chase trends, Caprice remains steadfast in its pursuit of excellence—its elegance never fades.

The Chairman is a restaurant so assured in its philosophy that it is impervious to passing trends. There is no reliance on ornamental ingredients or ostentation—just an unwavering belief in the power of Cantonese cuisine when it is stripped of excess and treated with the utmost respect. Here, provenance is everything: seafood sourced from day boats and a devotion to small-scale farmers. The result is food that feels almost inevitable, as though it could only ever be this way—the impossibly fragrant steamed flower crab, the razor clams kissed by just the right amount of fermented black beans. Other kitchens attempt to emulate its ethos; none come close.

To eat at Cristal Room is to enter Anne-Sophie Pic’s world—a place where flavours unfold like a well-composed perfume, where balance is not just a consideration but a fascination. Her team executes her vision with the kind of quiet mastery that can only come from deep technical skill. A broth is layered with umami so delicate it feels like it might dissolve into memory, a hint of meadowsweet lifts a dish into something unexpectedly radiant. Pic’s approach is less about revolution and more about revelation—about taking French gastronomy’s grand traditions and making them feel light and effortless.

At Estro, chef Antimo Maria Merone elevates Italian cuisine beyond its familiar comforts, crafting dishes that reflect the depth and sophistication of his Neapolitan heritage. His pasta—delicate yet bold—showcases a mastery of texture, while his ingredient-driven approach ensures every dish tells a story of provenance. Over the past year, Merone has collaborated with chefs from around the world, expanding the restaurant’s global footprint, and introduced à la carte dining, offering diners greater flexibility while maintaining Estro’s signature finesse, ensuring diners are treated to a celebration of Italian cuisine at its most elevated.

The true measure of a great restaurant lies not in excess but in its ability to strip away the unnecessary and reveal something profound. Feuille achieves this with quiet confidence, proving that the language of French fine dining need not rely on conventional luxury. While David Toutain’s influence as consultant chef shapes the restaurant’s plant-forward philosophy, it is Joris Rousseau—Tatler Dining Hong Kong’s and Tatler Best Asia’s Rising Star 2024—who brings that vision to life here. There is an honesty to this kind of cooking, where fermentation adds depth, gentle ageing teases out umami, and nothing is done for effect alone. It is, in every sense, a new way of cultivating excellence.

A cornerstone of Cantonese fine dining, Forum has upheld its reputation for over four decades. Under the stewardship of chef Adam Wong, the restaurant continues to honour its heritage while evolving to meet modern tastes. The famed Ah Yat braised abalone, with its impeccable texture and deep, umami-rich sauce, is more than just a signature dish—it demonstrates patience, skill and an almost obsessive commitment to quality. The restaurant’s ability to balance tradition with refinement ensures that it remains not just a fixture of Hong Kong’s culinary scene, but a benchmark for Cantonese gastronomy.

Ho Lee Fook is a restaurant that pulses with the energy of Hong Kong itself—frenetic, unpretentious and effortlessly cool. It has always been a place where the nostalgia of Cantonese home cooking collides with the swagger of modern dining, but under ArChan Chan’s leadership, its identity has strengthened. But what makes Ho Lee Fook special isn’t just its food—it’s the feeling it gives you. A reminder that Cantonese cuisine doesn’t need reinvention, just reverence, a little irreverence, and a kitchen to do it justice.

Indian cuisine is vast—yet at Leela, chef Manav Tuli channels its depth into dishes that are elegant and powerfully evocative. His cooking draws from the royal kitchens of a bygone India, presenting flavours that feel both storied and refreshingly modern. Over the past year, Tuli has continued to challenge perceptions of Indian cuisine, partnering with Ningbo restaurant Yong Fu in a cross-cultural exchange that explored the interplay of spices and seafood. Beyond innovation, Leela remains deeply committed to sustainability, sourcing organic, GMO-free spices and working with local producers to ensure quality and environmental responsibility.

To define Mono solely as a Latin American restaurant would be to overlook its significance. What Ricardo Chaneton has created is something more clarified, more essential—a cuisine that captures the spirit of an entire continent while shedding any unnecessary ornamentation. His plates are studies in restraint, where the deep, earthen complexity of mole or the freshness of crudo are given space to resonate. Thoughtful yet bold, precise yet soulful, Mono illustrates why Latin American gastronomy deserves its place in Hong Kong’s culinary landscape.

Korean cuisine often carries the weight of nostalgia, but at Mosu, history is a reference point, not a constraint. Chef Sung Anh approaches his cuisine with the precision of an architect, layering flavours with intent rather than excess. Anh’s meticulous philosophy reached a wider audience, thanks to his role as a judge on Netflix’s Culinary Class Wars. Yet, while he took the spotlight on screen, back in Hong Kong, head chef Bruno Jeong ensured that Mosu’s vision never wavered. With remarkable finesse, he has upheld its principles of purity and depth, not as rigid doctrine, but as a living, evolving philosophy.

At Prince and the Peacock, Palash Mitra invites you into a world of complexity, depth and elegance, all wrapped in a spice cloak of Indian heritage. The flavours are neither timid nor overstated, and each spice is a character in a story rather than a loud, boisterous presence. There’s a knowing restraint here—nothing is ever overdone. Even the decor speaks volumes: understated yet regal. This is Indian cuisine reimagined without sacrificing its roots. Bold, yes—but only in the places that matter. And that’s what makes it unforgettable.

French cuisine, when in the right hands, is an exercise in control—knowing when to add, when to take away, and when to do nothing at all. At Racines, Romain Dupeyre illustrates that simplicity is not the absence of ambition but the highest expression of it. His Provençal roots run through his cooking, but there is nothing staid about it; every dish offers balance, every flavour exacting without ever feeling laboured. From the counter—the best seat in the house—you can watch Dupeyre at work, moving with measured artistry. Racines doesn’t reinvent French cuisine; it doesn’t need to. It simply confirms why, when done this well, it remains untouchable.

Few chefs think as deeply and cook as instinctively as Vicky Lau. At Tate Dining Room, each dish is composed with the dexterity of an artist and the intuition of a storyteller, where flavour, texture and form are in perfect balance. Her Franco-Chinese creations are neither hybrid nor compromise, but a language entirely her own—one that draws diners into a world where the finest local produce and classical coordination coalesce into something altogether more poetic. There is nothing hurried about her cuisine, nothing extraneous, only the purest articulation of her culinary language.

Vicky Cheng has never been one for convention. At VEA, his cooking is less about fusing French and Chinese influences and more about unearthing their hidden synergies, treating them as equals rather than opposites. A dish might hinge on a delicate consommé enriched with dried seafood, its depth owing as much to Cantonese kitchens as it does to classic French technique. Every plate is a quiet provocation, challenging expectations of what modern Chinese fine dining can be—not with theatrics, but with a confidence that leaves no room for doubt.

Southeast Asian cuisine has long been defined by its immediacy—punchy, riotous flavours that deliver instant gratification. But at Whey, Barry Quek proves that these bold traditions can be just as nuanced, just as finessed, as any of their Western counterparts. His house-baked bread is paired with a silky buah keluak emulsion, offering deep earthiness, while a whisper of assam sharpens without overwhelming. Quek is not merely paying homage to his roots—he is proving that Southeast Asian flavours belong on the world stage, not as novelties, but as fine dining in their own right

The best tables in town aren’t just hard to book—they shift perceptions, making you wonder why everyone else isn’t cooking like this. Wing is one of them. Vicky Cheng doesn’t rely on the usual crutches of high-end Cantonese dining—there are no indulgent parades of luxury for luxury’s sake. Instead, his mastery is in knowing exactly how far to push before an ingredient gives up its best. A plump and briny Japanese oyster finds an unexpected harmony with housemade century egg and chilli sauce, a combination that somehow amplifies each element to something greater than the sum of its parts. This is modern Chinese food with the power to rewrite expectations—the power to make you see it differently.

At Xin Rong Ji, there is no need for grandstanding. Its strength lies in the purity of the ingredients, sourced with an attention to provenance while allowing their natural qualities to shine, and also the ability to take that and do just enough to make it sing, but never so much as to drown out the melody. This dedication to the craft offers diners a rare opportunity to experience Taizhou’s culinary heritage in its most unadulterated form, setting it apart in a landscape dominated by fusion and modernist interpretations. It’s no wonder Xin Rong Ji comes highly recommended from the lips of the city’s most discerning diners.

Regional Chinese cuisine rarely receives the applause it deserves in the fine dining sphere, yet Yong Fu elevates Ningbo gastronomy with an unshakable sense of purpose. The menu is executed with abundant skill that turns simplicity into brilliance, where even the most unassuming ingredients—preserved vegetables or the seasonal use of lily bulb—contribute layers of flavour that linger long after the meal is over. There is a respect for time-honoured techniques but make no mistake—this is not nostalgia, nor a blind devotion to orthodoxy. Instead, it is a celebration of a cuisine that, when entrusted to those who know its worth, is as intricate and compelling as any of its more widely recognised counterparts.