Maxim is well worth the trip west to Ealing, especially for the authentic old-school Pekingese dishes that aren’t found anywhere else in central London. Gather a big group of hungry friends, make the journey and dig into a hefty menu spanning over hundred items. The classics, such as duck, lobster, rice and noodles, are all here, but the standout dishes are fried king prawns with egg whites and signature barbecue ribs. And look out for a glimpse of 92-year-old Mrs. Chow pottering about — she’s been running the joint since the 1970s.

Edging on to the Park Royal industrial estate but not quite part of it, Hua Imperial Palace is the new home for cooking from Kang Dong, who formerly ran an eponymous business out of Hoxton. This restaurant rewards the principle of scanning for diversions from the norm the menu establishes for itself. So on a menu mostly anchored in Anglo-Cantonese takeaway classics — of which Singapore noodles, chow meins, spring rolls, and particular lesser-spotted salt and pepper chips are executed to a good standard — look for numbing dan dan noodles rich with sesame; salted egg yolk prawns; Fujian pork soup; a decent rendition of hong shao rou hiding under “braised pork belly,”; and hand-pulled Lanzhou la mian.

From a welcomingly large dining room, My Old China delivers two genres in the annals of Chinese cooking with aplomb: the art of dim sum and the culinary culture of Sichuan province. Har gao, siu mai, Teochew fun guo; and chewy but charred lo bak go are stand outs in the former, while the latter’s best bets are mapo tofu and laziji, the latter a headily ferocious pile of fried chicken, facing heaven chillis, Sichuan peppercorn, and doubanjiang.

There’s no doubt about it, Pearl Liang looks and dresses the part. With its distinct Cantonese interiors: rich pink tones, bamboo plants, water features and gigantic cherry blossom murals — it’s as pretty as a picture. It would be remiss to ignore a selection of exquisite dim sum (visit during the day for the full selection), but the extensive Cantonese menu is as much reason to visit. For those seeking a more luxe dining experience, options include black bean dover sole or abalone from the a la carte dinner section. Going the extra mile is definitely worth the extra tariff.

Ask locals about Chu Chin Chow and they might tell you it’s an excellent buffet restaurant, a place to come on Saturday and load up on chow mein. Another type of local might say that actually, get the Malaysian chicken with caramelised wands of lemongrass, or the fruity capital ribs or the duck with an exoskeleton of crispy yam, or gigantic butter prawns with sugar spun floss, or salted yolk squid, or chilli crab with roe sweeter than treasure, from what is London’s best Canto-Malay restaurant hidden in Zone 5 Barnet. Others say there is a further secret menu containing poon choi, gigantic buns filled with curry and exemplary chicken rice with the pink flesh and yellow skin of a Battenberg. Huge, if true.

It’s no surprise that head chef Andrew Wong has been dominating the food industry ever since he transformed his father’s business in Victoria back in 2013. His creative Chinese dishes continue to blow minds; 63-degree tea egg with shredded filo, duck yolk custard buns that are made to look like tangerines and carrot-shaped rabbit and carrot glutinous puffs. A. Wong is more about exploring the cuisine’s boundaries and throws perceptions of traditional Chinese cuisine out the window.

A standout among the Hong Kong-inspired cafes that line the west side of Wardour Street, Cafe TPT is a template for how all Chinese restaurants of this type in London can and should be: competent at almost everything and exceptional at some. Fatty brisket curry on rice and Singapore noodles, elastic and smoky from the wok, are great options, but it’s the pork chop Macau-style with onions, cheesy bechamel and spoonfuls of chilli oil that is unmissable — a chaise longue of a comfort dish best eaten in the early hours of the morning to soak up a Soho night.

Dumplings’ Legend does exactly what it says on the tin: legendary dumplings in a flash. Walk in to the site of several pros hand-making and folding dumplings at warp-speed in a glass room. Eating xiao long bao dumplings (the speciality here) is a sophisticated three-step process. First: dunk the soup dumpling in vinegar dipping sauce; then carefully put the dumpling onto your spoon and poke a hole in the wrapper of the dumpling to release the steam and prevent your mouth from burning; finally, down the hatch in one. It’s pretty much like doing a tequila shot, but minus hangover and one very happy belly.

One of the few restaurants which has benefited from the recent Chinatown development, moving from Charing Cross Road to Gerrard Street’s main drag has propelled Food House into cult status among young Chinese students who take respite from Dover Street Market in red oil noodles. The menu is shared between Sichuan — dry hotpots and whole fish cooked in chilli oil — and heartier central Chinese fare of belt noodles, rou jia mo (flatbreads with meat) and skewers. Make sure to bring people, this is one of the few places where dumplings can be ordered by the 30 (thirty).

Located off Caledonian Road by the canal, Kaki is out there on its own, one of London’s newest Chinese restaurant openings: Sichuan peppercorns (high grade green tops rather than red tops) in an excellent, face-numbing seabass in chilli oil offer a dictionary perfect definition of ma la, but the more subtle dishes are the most intriguing. A dish of cold, sliced tofu comes with the sour hot heat of pickled chilli, an umami rich soy dressing and then fresh, briny oysters, creamy and barely steamed from the sauce — a simple dish turned into something riotous. The chef is from coastal Dalian in Liaoning, rather than Sichuan, and there is clearly an affinity with fish and seafood here.

Xi’an Impression? More like Xi’an impressive. Yes, it may not be the glossiest or the most comfortable restaurant around, but it definitely scores a hat trick on price, taste and being BYO. To bag a table, make sure to visit on a non-match day as it’s directly opposite the Arsenal stadium in Holloway. Everything here is regional Chinese food that is unavailable at other Chinese restaurants in London. Expect things like open-ended fried dumplings, beef and pork ‘burgers’ (more like kebabs), elasticky biang biang noodles and their signature liang pi crunchy noodles.

Traditionally seen as the places to go when you can’t get into Silk Road, Wuli Wuli is now more than just a last resort. In some aspects it now surpasses its Camberwell cousin. Having gone through a few iterations, most notably as a blood, guts, and fire Sichuan, it’s now relatively home-style with a pared back menu and biang biang noodle section added as a new string to its bow. Get one plain to appreciate the balance and texture, with translucent parchments of double cooked pork on the side. 

A south of the river institution that needs no introduction, but for those unfamiliar, Silk Road is a north-western Chinese-specialised affair that’s brought Xinjiang cuisine to the masses. Nibble at grilled cumin lamb skewers while waiting, slurp on handmade chilli belt noodles and wash everything down with a couple of bottles of Tsingtao beer for the full Xinjiang experience. The best thing? Everything should cost approximately £20 — £25 a head (including drinks) for the whole shebang. An unrivalled bargain in the city.

Prepare for the barrage of numbing-spicy dried red chillies, a Sichuan speciality that’s featured on the majority of items on the menu. This no-frills east London restaurant is loud and occasionally questionable, but packs a punch in heat and flavour. The slide-right-off meat skewers, mapo tofu and mountains of hot, steaming dumplings are the real MVPs here. But, for the adventurous, there are off-cuts of various animals, too: the likes of deep-fried intestine, duck tongue, pig’s liver and sliced lung.

Mukaddes Yadikar’s restaurant near Walthamstow Central station is London’s first and finest Uyghur restaurant and, perhaps, E17’s finest neighbourhood spot. Some advice: One — go with a group. Two — order, to start, Chaomian, a stir-fry of short, cut lengths of noodle wokked with chunks of of beef, spring onion and tomato. Three — Da pan ji (‘big plate chicken’): a remarkably deep, savoury, and spicy chicken and potato stew, teeming with Sichuan peppercorns, served with flat hand-pulled noodles.