Dinner as theatre: behind the scenes at Ultraviolet, Shanghai ‘immersive’ restaurant

Having to stay in the kitchen of Ultraviolet in Shanghai while chef Paul Pairet and his team cook for a table full of guests – all chefs who have between them a total of 25 Michelin stars – might make it seem like I’ve been relegated to second class status. But I’m philosophical about it; after all, anyone who plans far enough in advance can book a place at the 10-seat “immersive dining” restaurant, but not everyone gets to witness what goes on behind the scenes.

The 10 guests have met in advance before being driven to Ultraviolet, which is in an undisclosed location. Head chef Greg Robinson gets a phone call, alerting him that the guests are en route – timing is key here – and the kitchen moves into action.

I am already at the grungy warehouse creative space with Pairet. The size of Ultraviolet is about the equivalent of a football field, and would seat about 100 if it were a “normal” restaurant. Pairet’s vision is different, though: his place only seats only 10.

All the guests have plenty of time to mingle around the 300-year-old camphor tree at the dining interval, and they also eat together, even if they are strangers – which this group are not. They include Pierre Gagnaire (with 13 Michelin stars for his various restaurants, including the two-star Pierre at the Mandarin Oriental Hong Kong), Akrame Benallal (one star for his eponymous restaurants in Paris and Hong Kong); Glenn Viel (L’Oustau de Baumanière, two stars), Ronan Kervarrec (Château de la Chèvre d’Or, two stars) and Mitsuharu Sakamoto (Unisson des Coeurs, a one star French restaurant in Osaka). Ultraviolet doesn’t have any stars – but that’s because Michelin doesn’t have any guides to Chinese cities. It is, however, recognised by another guide: it’s number 24 on the annual World’s 50 Best Restaurants list.

It’s fascinating to observe the Ultraviolet chefs cooking with absolute precision while watching the guest’s reactions to the food and the multisensory experience in the dining room as seen through CCTV cameras. The servers pick up the dishes according to cues and tempo – exactly how a theatre production is run.

It goes like clockwork, with timing and temperatures planned right down to the decimal point. The kitchen is silent, apart from the occasional beeping equipment and a call-out for the next scene and next dishes.

Right by the kitchen is the studio with a team of two activating sounds, scents and audiovisual material on cue. There are a total of 16 CCTV cameras on site to monitor the dining room.Like Brechtian theatre, where the “fourth wall” between the audience and actor is broken, the service staff role-play – at one point the porcelain vase of a slow-cooked veal shank is “accidentally” thrown onto the floor, breaking into shards. The server carries on,picking up the veal shank wrapped in lotus leaves, and continues to serve the diners. It appears to be the favourite moment in the kitchen, with all the chefs watching the CCTV for guest reactions. It’s hard not to wonder how this deliberate disruption affects the guests’ impression of the juicy, tender meat.