Durian Youtiao's Revenge: TonAri, the Bar in a Jing'an Alley That Doesn't Want to Steal the Spotlight

Put durian and youtiao on the same plate and it sounds like a forced gimmick no matter how you slice it. TonAri's menu lists it as "Cheese X Durian X Shanghai Baguette" (¥58) — essentially a local youtiao topped with durian and mozzarella, baked until the surface turns custard-like and moist. I ordered it half out of spite, ready to defend durian's honor, but it completely flipped my stance. The cheese's saltiness ties together two flavors — sweet and pungent — that shouldn't work together, while the youtiao's crispy, airy texture holds the whole dish up.

TonAri means "neighbor" in Japanese, and it sits on a quieter stretch of Wuding Road, surrounded by Jing'an's cluster of ambitious restaurants. The team comes from Voisine, the French restaurant that closed this past March. Co-founder Zita Hu is a Shanghai-based wine importer with a long-standing love for natural and organic wine. According to her, the natural wine market is quietly shrinking, and opening TonAri is, in some sense, her way of keeping that momentum alive — not by putting on airs, but by making the place feel approachable and easy to walk into.

The space is small, with an arched doorway that gives the interior a cave-like feel. Lighting stays dim, the mood unhurried. Up front is a casual bar with bottles on the shelf marked with prices written directly in pen, and a few outdoor seats reserved for good-weather days. The whole thing reads more like the kind of neighborhood bar you'd drop into casually, not a dress-up destination restaurant.

The food leans French-Chinese fusion with the occasional detour through Spain, but it's fundamentally built to serve the wine — priced so you can keep ordering plate after plate without hesitation. The complimentary sourdough, studded with dried fruit and nuts, arrives fast. Gambas al Ajillo (¥78) is a straightforward garlic shrimp — solid but unsurprising. Shiso Tofu Bites (¥38) is the better order: fried tofu paired with a smoky, spicy Sichuan pepper sauce, served with chili flakes on the side for those who want to turn up the heat.

The kitchen's strongest showing is the Chili Oil Turbot (¥168) — the fish is split open for easy eating, the chili oil fragrant without being overpowering, brightened with a squeeze of lemon. Save a piece of bread to mop up the leftover sauce; it's worth it. Caviar Scallion Oil Spaghetti (¥58) builds on the scallion oil flavor familiar to Shanghai locals, layering in sturgeon roe and flying fish roe for extra depth of umami — and it's priced low enough that you don't even need to think twice, making it a solid weekday lunch option too. For something homier and warming, go for the Basque Braised Chicken (¥88), sitting in a bell pepper and tomato base with paprika and thyme, great for sharing. The Charcoal Samba Lamb Skewers (¥58), on the other hand, feel fairly ordinary — lacking fat and personality — and word is other skewers on the menu perform better.

The wine list isn't purely a natural and organic wine playground — though owner Zita clearly lights up talking about those bottles, conventional wines still make up a solid chunk of the list. By-the-glass pours start at ¥69, full bottles from ¥329, and there's also a three-pour tasting flight (60ml each) for ¥129. Cocktails, highballs, and beer round out the offerings.

TonAri probably isn't trying to out-cook the painstakingly crafted restaurants around it. What it offers instead is something else entirely: a room that's neither cold nor overheated, an honest wine list, and a table of food that doesn't ask much of you.