A Four-Hands Dinner That’s Nothing Like Cotton Fluffing

[ Four-hands Dinner ]

A form of piano performance,

now the go-to phrase for high-end restaurant collaborations.

It usually means a collaborative dinner by two celebrated chefs.

Foreigners simply call it ‘Four-hands’.

‘Joint play’—as the name suggests—two musicians (chefs) ‘play’ closely together, performing a piece (a meal). For a dinner to be worth its price, both are typically chefs with industry clout.

When I first heard ‘four-hands dinner’, my teeth and tongue couldn’t help but dance. Not anymore. Over time, they’ve become too common—and too chaotic.

A ‘joint play’ sounds simple, but it’s tricky. Too often, each chef just does their own thing. Personally, I feel that when two chefs with starkly different styles join forces, a mash-up like a folk symphony or rural heavy metal is what diners most look forward to. But let’s be real: top-flight hotel chefs already fight battles every day. To carve out time to reorchestrate (design new dishes), to craft a deeply integrated, technically flawless four-hands feast worthy of ‘Guangling San’—easier said than done.

Situations like ‘companion to pine-tide chanting, meeting a kindred spirit over high mountains and flowing waters’ do exist, but Boya and Ziqi jamming privately is fine; bringing that to the stage is a bit irresponsible. I think grand banquets need steadiness; the last thing you want is a ‘surprise’.

Recently, I attended a four-hands dinner called ‘Savoring Suzhou’ presented by Zhang Li of W Suzhou and Xu Jie of Xingguo Hotel. It felt like what a four-hands should be. Food critic Shen Jialu put it well: ‘Suzhou people are the palate mentors of Shanghai people’—he was really talking about culinary lineage.

To me, a successful collaborative dinner boils down to:

1. Each chef’s past work ties into the central theme.

2. Their cuisine or expressive styles are similar.

3. The chefs admire each other, and their teams have a tacit foundation to collaborate.

As it happens, Chef Zhang Li is in Suzhou, Chef Xu Jie in Shanghai. Both are grandmasters of Suzhou cuisine. Zhang innovates Suzhou food from a global perspective; Xu inherits it through the lens of state banquets. Naturally, both operate at the intersection of innovation and tradition—exactly where Suzhou and Shanghai flavors converge.

The chatterboxes of old gents and the market basket of old Fengmen

Before any serious four-hands dinner, it’s best for the conductor, composer, and critics to huddle. In Suzhou cuisine circles, the panel is made up of the true masters. Mr. Huang Xin, along with Xu Hefeng, Hua Yonggen, and Shen Jialu, eagerly chatted about food, forming an impromptu Shanghai-Jiangsu summit of senior gentlemen.

The backbone of Shanghai cuisine is a grand fusion of Anhui cooking, the ‘spatula gang,’ and Suzhou tradition, while the apex is the understated, refined elegance of Suzhou food. The gentlemen spoke with substance, hitting the nail on the head. Shen Jialu remarked, “This lunch is a feast for the taste buds, a profusion of flavors.”

While the experts bonded over passion, the diners were already grinding their teeth—myself included, along with all you big-shot colleagues.

I envy the pearl-draped ‘young matron’ strolling through Fengmen Market, sashaying under the eaves, carefree and rightfully confident.

I don’t covet her sable coat hugging a Rubenesque figure. I’m just curious about her diet. Her mouth is a basket that never leaks a delicacy, only salivates. No matter how picky she is, Suzhou cuisine has all the good stuff.

The seasonal produce in the market looks dewy and dainty, homegrown, yet carrying the power to transcend time.

Now I clutch an invitation, see distant wisps of cooking smoke, munch on Suzhou arrowhead chips, waiting for the fragrant soul to appear before the Buddha.

This is the sourcing expedition for the four-hands dinner. With a pastry in my right hand and another pastry in my left, I follow two seasoned ‘fresh meat’ chefs to Suzhou’s top ingredient hunting ground: Fengmen Market. Zhang Li and Xu Jie can wax poetic about every Suzhou ingredient—stick with them, you’re right.

Two years ago, I penned a long piece on the Suzhou cake balls I loved as a child. After two weeks of gorging on them, I decisively cut out carbs. But the taste of lard seeping into glutinous rice—that’s bewitching! Li Bai dreamed of gold, but all I could think was: ‘Throw away gold, it will come back.’ Ah, let’s eat.

Suzhou cuisine has always carried a scholarly air, developed by gentry family cooks and spread by literati. I just wrote about Yunlin Goose and Ni Yunlin; now the sight of ‘Luzhi’ makes me think of Lu Guimeng’s Fuli duck stew. The deep friendship between gourmet-writer Lu Wenfu and Zhou Shoujuan started over shared meals. The secret to eating well, Lu Wenfu said, is ‘to eat the chef’; only those who don’t know how to eat ‘eat the restaurant.’ Zhou Shoujuan typically chose his chef and then ordered no further dishes, believing ‘ordering more seems petty and can disrupt the chef’s overall design.’ I still think that holds truth today. Chef’s omakase remains the highest form.

One cake (trouble) hasn’t settled before another ‘cake’ arises. Because I see the characters ‘甪直’ (Luzhi), also written as ‘六直,’ the name of a town (in the east of Wuzhong District, Suzhou, Jiangsu, bordering Kunshan). And there’s the character ‘爊’ (āo) specific to Suzhou cuisine—Zhang Li explained it means to bury food in ash embers to cook slowly. Not out of novelty, but because of fuel limitations: you couldn’t extinguish the firewood immediately, so the residual heat of dying embers became a unique cooking method. Isn’t that just low-temperature slow cooking?!

Ancient dishes still spark endless reverie; tradition and modernity may collide here to create new wonders. In ancient times, Luzhi was also called Fuli. The Tang poet Lu Guimeng once lived there and styled himself ‘Master Fuli.’ Fuli duck stew was first made by Lu Guimeng himself to entertain his friend Pi Rixiu. Imagine a great poet washing his hands to prepare soup—we won’t debate technique; the heart and sincerity are all there.

A few days ago, I had the fish lip and duck shreds soup at Luk Yu in Hong Kong, which somewhat connects to this ancient dish. Amid the storied old Shanghai, a precise lineage is hard to trace. Yet Fuli duck stew is far more intricate: tender duck, ham, sinew, dried scallops, river shrimp, bamboo shoots, shiitake, shepherd’s purse… just the ingredients list is a whirl of umami! There’s a saying in Luzhi: ‘Once you taste Fuli duck stew, you won’t let go even if slapped.’ Maybe it was the heat from market grazing, but as I nibbled from stall to stall, I felt a dreamy burning sensation on my cheeks.

I will always remember the moment those honorable uncles suddenly decided to tour W Suzhou’s kitchen, and the faces of chefs Zhang Li and Xu Jie glowed with confidence and long-held composure.

With the shopping done, the feast is about to begin!

W Suzhou’s Exquisitely Crafted A and B Menus

I asked Zhang Li: For one collaborative event, two sets of new dishes?

Zhang Li smiled innocently: Doing a banquet is like my TV variety shows—if an emergency pops up, you need a backup plan.

Menu A: The Relaxed Version

Zhang Li’s solo in-house creation

A ‘Blossoming Fortune’ bloom—cuttlefish as petals, cilantro flowers as pistils, caviar at the heart, poised and graceful.

With the cheer ‘Rising Wind and Water,’ a splendid yusheng toss brought all the luck.

16 flavors of abalone blossomed on the plate.

Fresh shepherd’s purse paved the runway for ‘Loong’s Grand Journey’ (lobster). I had the courage to keep my weight in check after devouring the Qianlong Braised Pork (Suzhou-style soy-braised pork bun).

Anyone stuck on the road in rain or snow would envy Chef Zhang Li’s ‘Borscht Noodles’—complete with real Russian sausage, the noodles sitting somewhere between instant and Italian pasta, with a northern heartiness.

I added a bit of the table-spread ‘Yangcao Yuancai’—crisp pickled cabbage, sticky soft-shelled turtle skirt, and the freshness of alfalfa sprouts, enough to make any savvy southerner forget the anxiety of watching A-shares while snagged in traffic in an EV.

A final bowl of red osmanthus and foxnut sweet soup: a sweet, flowery start to the New Year!

Menu B: The Formal Version

Co-created by Zhang Li & Xu Jie

Blossoming Fortune by Zhang Li

The first cold dish, ‘Blossoming Fortune,’ saw Chef Zhang Li use cherry radish marinated in beetroot juice, paired with sweet-sour-spicy scallop, identical in color yet differing in flavor. The radish and scallop are arranged as a peony blossom, garnished with Qiandao Lake caviar and cilantro flowers, symbolizing thriving prosperity.

Loong’s Grand Journey by Zhang Li

The second cold dish, ‘Loong’s Grand Journey,’ featured Zhang Li’s slow-cooked small lobster, fresh sea urchin, and a transparent Shaoxing wine jelly, plated with Sichuan pepper-scented lobster legs. The taste is intensely savory, awakening the palate, and signifies soaring success.

Spring-kissed Abalone by Zhang Li

The third cold dish, ‘Spring-kissed Abalone,’ used fresh six-head abalone from Dalian. Inspired by winter giving way to spring, it offers a duo: winter-preserved mei cai and a spring-symbolic toon sauce.

Bird’s Nest Double-Boiled Soup by Zhang Li

The soup, ‘Bird’s Nest Double-Boiled Freshness,’ featured a whole pork knuckle, a whole spotted duck, plus cured meat, spring bamboo shoots, and tofu knots, simmered into a rich base. Bamboo fungus wrapped Guan Yan (premium bird’s nest), while tofu knots encased diced cured meat, fresh pork, and bamboo shoots—an inventive twist on the Jiangnan classic ‘yan du xian’ (cured-fresh duo soup).

Cherry Sea Cucumber by Zhang Li

The first hot dish, ‘Cherry Sea Cucumber,’ used the classic Suzhou cherry pork method to cook sea cucumber, incorporating seasonal bur clover. Dried bur clover stuffed as filling, paired with fresh greens—each bite is tender, aromatic, singing of spring.

Pan-Fried Pond Fish by Xu Jie

The second hot dish, ‘Pan-Fried Pond Fish,’ showcased the rare spring treasure, pond loach. Chef Xu Jie minced the skinned fish, retaining the fiber, wrapped it in caul fat, and pan-fried it slowly to golden crispness, finished with sparkling fruit vinegar. The large, thin-skinned cake is smooth and springy; as it touches the lips, they gleam with oil, the rich tenderness seamlessly integrated.

Universe Hidden in Wine-Fermented Pork by Xu Jie

The third hot dish, ‘Universe in Fermented Pork,’ lives up to its name—inside the ordinary-looking fermented pork, when cut, a hidden filling flows with meat juices. That filling includes sea cucumber, abalone, conpoy, whelk, ham, chicken gizzard, diced pork, foxnut, and more. This grand fermented pork delivers a ‘luxurious’ mouthfeel: the aroma of fermented meat and the umami of seafood.

Green Snail Rice by Zhang Li

The staple, ‘Green Snail Rice,’ draws from the Suzhou saying: ‘Pre-Qingming snails beat fattened geese.’ Before Tomb-Sweeping Day, grass grows and orioles fly, with many spring delicacies to praise. Chef Zhang Li used these tongue-tickling snails, stir-fried in a claypot with silver fish sauce, paired with shrimp, shredded conpoy, and green chili—every bite leaves a fresh aftertaste.

Water Emerald Snail by Zhang Li

This Suzhou-style dessert, ‘Water Emerald Snail,’ is Zhang Li’s innovative Chinese sweet. It uses watershield (one of Suzhou’s ‘water eight treasures’), resembling tea leaves, made into a jelly, with matcha ice cream and chocolate shaped like a snail, accompanied by spinach juice. Refreshingly light and sweet, the green hue reminds one of the layers of Biluochun tea terraces on East Mountain by Taihu Lake.

As we dined, our talk moved from seeing mountains as mountains, to not seeing mountains as mountains, and back again. This was the most memorable meal I’ve had this year.

After much reflection, when W Suzhou and Shanghai Xingguo Hotel served this feast, Zhang Li presented Menu B. Mr. Huang Xin oversaw the session, joining Masters Hua Yonggen, Xu Hefeng, and Shen Jialu to add a ‘better than best’ touch to ingredients, flavors, presentation, utensils, and culture. This leaves me eagerly awaiting the next banquet.

For Jiangnan people, elegance at the table flows from the inside out. Teacher Barbie wrote that the highest state of a fine meal is: ‘No pile-up of luxury ingredients; from form to flavor, everything feels comfortable.’ That is the splendid inner lining of a dining table.

And now, we arrive at Xingguo Hotel.

Xingguo Hotel’s ‘Flora in Full Bloom’

With spring painting the city green, Shanghai truly welcomes its ‘flora in full bloom.’ We were privileged to attend a spring banquet at Building No. 1 of Xingguo Hotel. This copper-roofed ‘Copper House,’ in use since 1934, has hosted countless dignitaries and witnessed the glory days of the social elite.

Before the banquet began, I chatted online with Ms. Li Shu and Mr. Shen Jialu about the origins of ‘bald lung’ and ‘Farewell My Concubine’ dish. Interestingly, Chef Xu Jie’s techniques come straight from state banquet protocol, and these days he’s been cooking ‘Farewell My Concubine’ every day.

A bowl of rich chicken soup teeming with treasures. In the photo he casually snapped, I saw deboned tiger palm (soft-shell turtle leg) and free-range chicken, plus two crowning pieces: turtle skirt and gold coin ham (Jinhua ham eye). My mouth watered unstoppably.

A few days ago, Zhang Li’s boat banquet featured a show-stopping crab roe and puffer fish ‘bald lung,’ actually a perfect upgrade of the black carp ‘bald lung,’ inspired by Suzhou’s famous ‘bai fei soup.’

I mused: for this Shanghai collaboration between Xingguo Hotel and W Suzhou·Su Yan, with Xu Jie and Zhang Li dressed like black and white piano keys, they could effortlessly play a Suzhou-cuisine version of a ‘Flora Feast’!

Rose-scented drunken white shrimp, spring chive snails, smoked leaping fish by Xu Jie

Rose drunken white shrimp – spring chive snail meat – smoked leaping fish: a delicate cold trio in an ivory white box, a fresh overture.

One Sip of Spring Soup by Xu Jie

Chef Xu Jie plucked spring bamboo shoot tips, mustard tuber heads, broad bean kernels, and peas, garnished with this year’s Biluochun new tea buds, creating this bowl that hits the very heart—‘One Sip of Spring Soup.’ A clear soup of top quality, brewed for hours with Jiuhua Mountain free-range chicken and ham, the color of tea. The first sip of spring uses a tea-toned premium broth as base, paired with seasonal mountain bamboo tips, spring broad beans, sugar snap peas, fresh abalone slices, and fresh Biluochun leaves. The soup is bright and aromatic; the seasonal vegetables sweet, crisp, and refreshing; layer upon layer, like roaming through spring hills and fields.

Butterfly Bone with Fish Maw by Xu Jie

Next came a richly glazed ‘Butterfly Bone with Fish Maw.’ The so-called ‘butterfly bone’ is the pig’s knee joint, combining fat, lean, and cartilage textures in one—though I didn’t quite see the butterfly shape, my taste buds danced like butterflies. National culinary master and Suzhou cuisine expert Xu Hefeng said, ‘Nobody makes this old dish anymore; eating it is a blessing.’ This nearly lost dish has been deeply researched, understood, and innovatively refined into a Suzhou-style, bone-strengthening spring dish. The ingredients are meticulously selected: only the two knee bones from black-haired pigs, with both tendon and active meat, paired with fish maw, secretly prepared into a dish with fused gelatinous richness and unique flavor.

Pond-Fish Slice & Small Lobster by Zhang Li

Chef Zhang Li employed Suzhou’s distiller’s grain method, using only one ‘pond slice’ of meat from the pond loach, together with a small lobster ball, all resting on a steamed egg white bed, sweet and fragrant with the lees. Pond loach is Suzhou people’s spring darling—at an average 100 grams per fish, two slices of its flesh paired with lobster, a union of river and sea, with the familiar Suzhou grain-steeped style, adding more poetry and deliciousness to the green season.

Skirt & Stuffed Pork Knuckle by Zhang Li

Another rich dish: spring yellow cheek fish maw stuffed with water chestnut and bamboo shoot dice, soft-shelled turtle skirt, and served with a tempura of the slick, glutinous rape-flower turtle skirt and alfalfa. Zhang Li said spring rape-flower turtle is the season’s finest ingredient; the best part—its skirt—is fried tempura-style, paired with plump spring yellow cheek fish, and the fish maw added, with a lustrous sauce, the skirt crispy yet sticky. The old gents chuckled, calling it the ‘longing for spring’ fish. The conversation was bursting with spring.

Morel Mushrooms with Asparagus by Xu Jie

Morel mushrooms stuffed with anchovy filling, white asparagus shaved into clear soup, crisp. Using the tips of rapeseed flowers, first-cut morels filled with seasonal fish meat, paired with white asparagus; the fish soup’s rich freshness soaked the ingredients, elevating the umami.

5J Toon Noodles by Xu Jie

Handmade duck egg noodles tossed with 5J ham dice and Chinese toon, with ham oil adding aroma.

Indian Aster Ice Cream & Cinnamon Apple Rice Ball by Xu Jie

Indian aster ice cream teases the taste buds; cinnamon apple rice ball challenges the classic qingtuan, reminding us that spring isn’t just green, but also the pink of cherry blossoms.

A great four-hands dinner is seamlessly whole, the musical fullness radiating from within.

Two people can still produce the sense of a symphony. This time, the moment they decided to play together, the performance had already begun…

Do you like Suzhou cuisine?

A symphony is like a world.

Food Bless You!

Consultant for ‘Flavors of the World’

Host of ‘God-like Tables’

Producer of ‘Wild China’ and ‘369 Moments Worth Living’