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There is just one other person at Sanxia Renija, in Deptford, when we arrive for an early dinner. He is alone, working his way through a quarter of crispy duck and pancakes. Oh dear. On the other, what a schmuck.
Going to an arse-kicking, cheek-slapping, thigh-spanking, gloriously ring-burning Sichuan restaurant like this and ordering the crispy duck is a little like popping into a brothel and paying for a chat.
Of course you can do that. But it is rather missing the point. Sanxia Renjia is part of a three-strong group — the others are on Goodge Street in central London and in Bromley , southeast of the capital — celebrating the food of Sichuan and Hubei. The name refers to the Three Gorges area along the Yangtze River.
I know of other restaurants of this kind, which only list the good stuff in Chinese; where the waiters roll their eyes if you try to order some of the more intriguing-looking things being served to eager Chinese families nearby. Sanxia is on a different mission. Yes, they do have a list of Cantonese standards.
The unadventurous of Blackheath must have their hit of sweet and sour pork. But the staff, like the rest of the menu, are eager. They want you to march across unexplored territory. It appears they even managed to convince Mr Crispy Duck. As he was paying, we heard him complaining that the chicken with red chillies had a greater volume of chillies than chicken.