Found at the rear of Toronto’s long-standing Hong Shing restaurant is Yan Dining Room. It’s discreetly home to where Chef Eva Chin (formerly of Momofuku Kōjin) communicates through broth, vegetables, and memory.

Raised in Hawai‘i by a Hawai‘ian-Samoan mother and a Singaporean-Chinese father, she defines her cooking as “neo-Chinese,” guided by care rather than rigid concept.

Once the door is shut, a resonant gong calls for attention. Chin sets the stage for the opening dishes, speaking with humour and a calm authority that imbues each with intent.

Her menus shift with the calendar, rooted in sustainability. They always begin with broth—on this evening, quail and morels, clear symbols of spring’s arrival.

From there, personal histories surface. Drunken oysters, steeped in baijiu and soy, nod to her father’s Cantonese traditions. Suancai albacore tuna—bright with shiso and green garbanzo hummus—draws on Sichuanese influences. Her mother’s shredded potato salad twists together tang, sweetness, and gentle heat. Chilled liangban cucumbers, jeweled with black vinegar pearls, recall her grandfather stashing pickles in the freezer.

Chin reappears between courses as the meal flows. Each plate is an act of grounded inventiveness—dandan dumplings with asparagus and heritage chicken; char siu duck lifted with strawberry and rhubarb. Dessert reflects again—Pacific Northwest s’mores reimagined with jasmine-oolong biscuits, Horlick’s ganache, and handmade mochi.

For Chin, food is never static. It is unsettled, migrates, then takes root again—rehydrated and encouraged to flourish.