As the lunar calendar ushers in the Year of the Horse, York Hotel’s White Rose Café has assembled a festive collection that bridges tradition with contemporary refinement. Over the course of an evening tasting, I explored their Chinese New Year takeaway menu, discovering a selection that rewards discerning palates while honoring the season’s celebratory spirit.
The Flagship: Flavours of Fortune Combo ($298)
This comprehensive set, designed for four to five diners, anchors the hotel’s festive offerings. At $298, it positions itself as a premium yet accessible option for families seeking to elevate their home celebrations without the theatre of restaurant dining. The composition is thoughtful, balancing ritual dishes like lo hei with substantial mains and a dignified dessert finale.
Dish-by-Dish Analysis
Prosperity Lo Hei with Smoked Nordic Salmon and Sliced Abalone (4/5)
The lo hei opens proceedings with the requisite fanfare. York Hotel opts for Nordic salmon over the more common local varieties, a choice that brings a delicate smokiness to the mix. The abalone slices, while present, play a supporting rather than starring role. The vegetables arrived crisp and the crackers retained their snap, suggesting careful attention to packaging for takeaway resilience. The accompanying plum sauce struck a harmonious sweet-tart balance, though purists might find it erring slightly toward the sweeter end of the spectrum. This is competent festival fare that fulfills its ceremonial function admirably without pushing creative boundaries.
Buddha Jumps Over the Wall – Vegetarian Edition (4.5/5)
Here is where York Hotel’s kitchen demonstrates genuine ambition. The vegetarian reinterpretation of this Fujian classic could easily have been a pallid echo of the original, yet what arrived was a revelation in plant-based umami construction. The slow-simmered broth, enriched with morel mushrooms and cordyceps flowers, achieved a depth that rendered the absence of meat entirely irrelevant.
The textural interplay deserves particular mention. Shark fin melon provided the characteristic gelatinous strands, while chestnuts contributed a sweet, yielding bite. Shiitake and oyster mushrooms brought earthy gravitas, complemented by the mineral notes of Shanghai greens. The yam, cooked to the point where it began to dissolve into the broth, acted as a natural thickener that created a luxurious mouthfeel. Red dates offered subtle sweetness and the whisper of traditional Chinese medicine’s nourishing philosophy.
This dish succeeds because it understands that Buddha Jumps Over the Wall is fundamentally about layered complexity and patient extraction of flavour. The kitchen clearly invested significant time in the simmering process, allowing each ingredient to contribute its essence to the communal whole. For vegetarians who often find themselves sidelined during Chinese New Year feasting, this offers genuine parity rather than consolation.
Braised Duck with Sea Cucumber in Orange Plum Sauce (3/5)
This returning favourite arrives with promise but delivers unevenly. The orange plum sauce itself is masterfully balanced, the citrus notes cutting through the richness of the duck with precision. There’s a pleasant tartness that prevents the dish from becoming cloying, and the plum undertones add complexity beyond simple sweet-sour dynamics.
Unfortunately, the duck’s execution faltered. My portion suffered from dryness, particularly in the breast meat, suggesting either overcooking or insufficient basting during the braising process. The sauce, while flavourful, couldn’t fully compensate for this textural shortcoming. The sea cucumber presented its own challenges, arriving less tender than ideal. Sea cucumber is notoriously difficult to prepare correctly, requiring precise timing to achieve the desired resilient yet yielding texture. Here, it tended toward the rubbery end of the spectrum.
The dish isn’t without merit. The legs and darker meat retained moisture better, and when properly sauced, delivered the comfort of traditional braised poultry. But at $98 à la carte, consistency matters, and this execution suggested quality control issues that a hotel restaurant should address.
Steamed Multigrain Rice (4.5/5)
If I were to order a single dish from this menu for personal indulgence, this would be it. The Steamed Multigrain Rice represents Chinese comfort food elevated through careful ingredient selection and restrained seasoning that allows each component to shine.
The umami foundation comes from Chinese sausage (lap cheong), its sweet-savoury profile permeating the rice grains. Sakura shrimp, tiny but mighty, contributed a concentrated seafood essence and delightful crunch. Chestnuts provided seasonal sweetness and textural variety, while lotus seeds offered their characteristic subtle bitterness and yielding bite. Black-eyed peas introduced an earthy, almost nutty dimension.
What impressed most was the rice itself. Properly steamed multigrain rice can be gummy or dry; this version achieved perfect al dente grains that separated cleanly yet clung together just enough to be scooped with chopsticks. The grains had absorbed the cooking liquids and rendered fat from the sausage without becoming sodden. Every mouthful delivered complexity, yet the overall effect was cohesive rather than chaotic.
At $58 à la carte, this dish punches well above its price point. It’s the kind of food that becomes more appealing as you eat it, revealing new flavour notes with each bite. For families, it serves as an excellent centerpiece that appeals to both adventurous and conservative palates.
Golden Treasure Seafood Pot (4.2/5)
Luxury ingredients dominate this shellfish-forward creation. Rock lobster, crab claw, scallops, and prawns swim in a robust broth that captures the essence of the sea. The broth itself deserves commendation, vibrant with crustacean sweetness and possessing the kind of depth that comes from proper stock-making rather than shortcuts.
The scallops emerged as the stars, perfectly seared before being introduced to the pot, maintaining a slight resistance at the center. The prawns too were well-handled, snappy and sweet. The crab claw meat pulled cleanly from the shell, always a good sign of quality and freshness.
However, the rock lobster presented issues. Lobster is particularly unforgiving of overcooking, and this specimen had crossed that threshold, the meat turning slightly fibrous and losing the delicate sweetness that justifies its premium price. In a dish marketed on luxury ingredients, this execution gap matters significantly.
Despite this misstep, the overall composition works. The pot format encourages sharing and communal eating, very much in the spirit of Chinese New Year gatherings. The generous portion of seafood means that even with one element underperforming, diners still receive substantial value.
Fortune Herbal Chicken with Red Dates and Goji Berries (4/5)
Sometimes the most satisfying dishes are those that embrace simplicity and deliver comfort. This herbal chicken soup does exactly that, presenting honest flavours without pretense. The chicken pieces were noticeably succulent, suggesting either a superior bird or careful poaching that stopped at precisely the right moment.
The herbal broth, infused with red dates and goji berries, tasted of gentle nourishment rather than medicinal intensity. This is intentional and wise; overly assertive Chinese medicinal flavours can alienate those unfamiliar with the tradition. Here, the herbs support rather than dominate, creating a warming, restorative quality that feels appropriate for winter celebrations.
The red dates contributed subtle sweetness and the goji berries their characteristic mild tang. Together with the chicken’s natural flavours, the soup achieved the kind of balanced wholesomeness that Chinese cooking at its best exemplifies. This is food that makes you feel cared for, the culinary equivalent of a warm embrace.
At $68, it represents fair value for quality ingredients treated with respect. It’s the kind of dish that might get overlooked in favor of flashier options but quietly becomes the one everyone returns to for second helpings.
Honey-Glazed Pork Ribs in Hawthorn Berry Sauce (2.8/5)
This dish promised much with its intriguing hawthorn berry sauce and playful deep-fried mantou accompaniment, but the execution fell short of the concept’s potential. The hawthorn berry sauce itself was a triumph of sweet-tart engineering, tangy enough to cut through pork’s richness while maintaining enough sweetness to satisfy festival expectations.
The critical failure lay in the glazing process. Proper glazed ribs require even coating and caramelization, creating a lacquered exterior that yields to tender meat within. These ribs showed inconsistent glaze distribution, with some sections glistening appropriately while others appeared almost bare. The bare sections tasted bland and, worse, had dried out during cooking.
The meat that did receive adequate sauce demonstrated what the dish could have been: sticky-sweet with pleasant acidity and the pork’s natural savouriness coming through. The deep-fried mantou buns, crispy-soft and slightly sweet themselves, proved ideal for mopping up excess sauce. But with so much of the pork underperforming, the mantou often went sauceless.
At $68, this dish needs significant refinement. Either the glazing technique requires adjustment or the ribs need more careful monitoring during cooking. The concept has merit, but execution matters enormously in Chinese barbecue traditions.
Stir-Fried Tomato Garlic Prawn (4.5/5)
This dish taps into something deeper than mere technique; it evokes memory and home. The combination of tomato and garlic with prawns is a Chinese home-cooking classic, the kind of dish that triggers nostalgia in anyone who grew up with Cantonese or Southeast Asian Chinese cuisine.
York Hotel’s rendition respects the tradition while demonstrating professional execution. The prawns arrived perfectly cooked, that precise moment where the flesh firms but retains juiciness and sweetness. Overcooking prawns is perhaps the most common seafood error; here, the kitchen nailed the timing.
The sauce deserves equal praise. Thick and glossy, it clung to the prawns rather than pooling separately. The tomato base provided both acidity and natural sweetness, while substantial amounts of garlic delivered aromatic punch without crossing into harshness. The sauce’s consistency suggested proper starch thickening and high-heat wok work that emulsified the elements into cohesion.
What makes this dish special is its democratic appeal. It’s sophisticated enough for discerning diners yet familiar enough to comfort those who prefer traditional flavours. At $68 for a portion serving four to five, it represents excellent value and would be my second personal choice from the menu after the multigrain rice.
Traditional Yam Paste with Pumpkin and Ginkgo Nuts (5/5)
If there’s a dish that exemplifies the difference between adequate and exceptional Chinese cooking, it’s yam paste (orh nee). This Teochew dessert specialty demands patience, technique, and quality ingredients. Done poorly, it’s gluey, overly sweet, or granular. Done well, as York Hotel achieves here, it becomes transcendent.
The texture was immaculate: silky-smooth without being gelatinous, substantial without heaviness. This comes from proper steaming of the yam until completely tender, followed by patient mashing or pressing to break down any lumps, then careful cooking with sugar and fat (traditionally lard, though possibly oil here) to achieve the characteristic glossy finish.
The sweetness sat at precisely the right level. Too many versions drown the yam’s natural earthiness in sugar; this preparation let the root vegetable’s inherent flavour come through while providing enough sweetness to register as dessert. The pumpkin added subtle additional sweetness and a hint of color variation. Ginkgo nuts contributed their distinctive slight bitterness and soft-chewy texture, creating moments of contrast that prevented palate fatigue.
Served warm, as it should be, the yam paste provided a deeply satisfying conclusion to the meal. It’s comfort food elevated to art, the kind of dish that justifies ordering takeaway from a hotel kitchen rather than attempting it at home. At the quality level achieved here, it alone could justify the Flavours of Fortune Combo for yam paste enthusiasts.
Overall Assessment
York Hotel’s Chinese New Year 2026 offerings demonstrate a kitchen capable of excellence but showing occasional inconsistency. The highs—Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, multigrain rice, tomato garlic prawns, and especially the yam paste—suggest skilled execution and quality ingredients. These dishes justify the premium positioning and would grace any festival table.
The disappointments, while notable, are relatively few. The braised duck and honey-glazed ribs both suffer from execution issues that better quality control should address. For a hotel of York Hotel’s caliber, these inconsistencies are surprising and should be rectified.
The Flavours of Fortune Combo at $298 represents reasonable value given the quality of standout dishes and the serving size for four to five people. The early bird discount of 15% (bringing it to approximately $253) makes it competitive with home cooking when factoring in ingredient costs, preparation time, and the convenience of professional execution.
Recommendations
For maximum satisfaction, I would suggest:
- Definitely include: Steamed Multigrain Rice, Traditional Yam Paste, Stir-Fried Tomato Garlic Prawn, vegetarian Buddha Jumps Over the Wall
- Consider carefully: Braised Duck (request fresh preparation if possible), Honey-Glazed Pork Ribs
- The combo offers good variety, but selective à la carte ordering of the strongest dishes might deliver better overall experience
Best suited for: Families seeking quality festival food without cooking labour, vegetarian-inclusive gatherings (the Buddha Jumps Over the Wall is genuinely compelling), traditionalists who appreciate classic Cantonese-Teochew flavours executed well
Logistics note: The three-day advance ordering requirement is reasonable and likely ensures fresher preparation. The collection hours (11am-8pm) offer flexibility, though the 4pm cutoff on Chinese New Year eve requires planning.
York Hotel hasn’t reinvented Chinese New Year dining, nor should they. Instead, they’ve delivered mostly faithful renditions of festival classics with occasional creative touches, executed at a level that justifies the convenience premium. For those prioritizing certain dishes—particularly the yam paste and multigrain rice—this menu offers genuine rewards.