Georgina Lunn

If you haven’t been to Tai Tong in Petersfield yet, stop what you’re doing and get yourself there immediately. This family-run Chinese restaurant has been feeding the good people of Petersfield for almost 50 years, which is longer than some of us have been trying (and failing) to make a decent stir-fry.

The vibe is what truly sets this place apart. It’s unpretentious, welcoming, and has that “everyone knows your name” energy. You can tell it’s a family affair—they serve food like they’re feeding relatives who just got back from a long journey. Plus, the portions are so generous that you’ll leave with enough leftovers for tomorrow’s lunch (or a second dinner, no judgment).

For us, Tai Tong is a family tradition. The ritual is always the same: my sister and I spend the entire day (the key is to begin dropping hints about 8 hours in advance) throwing out gentle prompts with expert subtlety – casual mentions of how tired Mum must be, or wistful sighs about how long it’s been since we last had Tai Tong. Eventually, we’ve laid it on so thick that Mum finally cracks. We’ve been perfecting the art of this guilt trip for decades, and the tactics are foolproof. We huddle in the kitchen, engaging in a serious debate over the menu, even though we invariably end up ordering the same five things we always do. Then the most crucial discussion begins involving the experience of actually picking up the food… Which family member is to call up and place the order and which members are to embark on the journey to collect our death-row meal? The latter requires courage for both partaking members. One is to drive and park (illegally) outside the restaurant and the other is to channel a different level of bravery. They’re to walk through the remarkably long, narrow restaurant with a red carpet directly down the middle that forces you to walk past tables upon tables of diners. It’s like a bizarre cross between Gringotts Bank and the Oscars, but instead of a designer gown, you’re probably wearing something that makes you look like Adam Sandler. Nothing says glamour like dodging eye contact with strangers while praying no one notices the mismatched socks poking out of your slippers. But this red-carpet strut, embarrassing as it may be, is all part of the magic. It’s memorable, it’s weirdly glamorous, and it’s entirely Tai Tong.

Is it a Michelin-star restaurant? No. But it’s not trying to be. The food always arrives in a beautifully unpretentious plastic bag, with the sweet and sour chicken and spicy fried beef being the undeniable stars of the show. Every bite carries the care and tradition of a family who has been perfecting these recipes for decades. These dishes have seen us through childhood, adolescence, and several questionable life decisions. They never judge – they just deliver.

We can’t mention Tai Tong without paying tribute to Dorothy, our late, great family Labrador. Dorothy loved Tai Tong night. Specifically, she loved the prawn crackers. She had a sixth sense for the bag crinkling open and would sit, tail wagging, eyes wide with the kind of desperate hope you only see in dogs and people who’ve just heard the words “the Chinese is here”. Even though she’s no longer with us, ordering from Tai Tong still feels like a quiet way to keep her close. It’s funny how food has a way of holding memories, and prawn crackers will always be Dorothy’s little legacy in our home.

Since her departure we’ve created a new tradition regarding the prawn crackers. Disclaimer: this slightly odd, arguably delusional game, was introduced post an immense food coma – not of sound mind. With the left over crackers, that didn’t make the cut to mop up the egg-fried rice drenched in sweet and sour sauce, we are to bite them to the beat of a song. Small and quick bites if the song we’re performing is more staccato and contemporary, and decided, slower bites for more classical and sentimental tracks. We’ve found this really elongates the eating process and the overall experience of our Tai Tong nights. 

What makes Tai Tong so special isn’t just the food – it’s the fact that it’s been here for almost half a century, run by a family who clearly loves what they do. In a world where everything feels mass-produced and impersonal, places like Tai Tong remind you that businesses with heart and history still exist. So, if you’re in Petersfield and fancy some amazing Chinese food, give Tai Tong a ring and order a takeaway. Or, if you’re of sounder mind than we are, go in for the spring rolls, stay for the family atmosphere, and leave with a happy heart and an unbuttoned waistband.  Just maybe leave the slippers at home.