Z&Y Peking Duck in San Francisco’s Chinatown serves what might just be the holy grail of ducks.

As a Chinese American who grew up in San Francisco, where Peking duck was the star attraction of many a celebratory banquet dinner, I rarely recall a version that was this outstanding as the one I enjoyed when I dined at the restaurant last week.

We’re talking duck meat that’s not dry or tough in the least, but juicy and tender throughout, and skin that’s incredibly crisp with all of its fat underneath completely rendered out, a rare feat in and of itself.

Chef-Owner Li Jun Han, who formerly was the executive chef at the Chinese Consulate-General in San Francisco, opened Z&Y Peking Duck in 2023. USA Today recently touted it as one of its “10 Best New Restaurants of 2025.” It is the sister restaurant to Han’s Z&Y restaurant, across the street that opened in 2008 and has garnered a Michelin Bib Gourmand distinction.

At Z&Y Peking Duck, it pays to dine as a party of 4 or more. That’s because that’s the minimum you need to make a reservation. Otherwise, you take your chances as a walk-in, which can be dicey, especially on a Saturday night as when I was there and people were crowded inside the entryway, waiting for tables.

When you make your reservation, you’ll also want to reserve your Peking duck, since the restaurant has a limited supply each night of the mahogany birds that undergo a laborious 48-hour process that involves pumping air into the duck to separate the skin from the fat, blanching, hanging to dry, then roasting.

A whole Peking duck is $78; a half is $48. With four people, you’ll definitely want to spring for the entire duck.

At banquet meals I’ve enjoyed, the duck usually is presented as the final or near-to-last course. Here, it is served first. Although the website states the duck is carved tableside, that wasn’t the case with ours, maybe owing to the fact that we were seated in the downstairs dining room with tight quarters.

Instead, the duck arrived already neatly sliced and divided between two platters for easy access for four diners. Each platter was set over a low flame to keep the duck warm, too. Accompanying the duck was a steamer basket of thin rice paper pancakes, along with a tray of thinly sliced scallions, cucumbers, house-made sweet bean sauce (akin to hoisin), and an unexpected addition of turbinado sugar. Dip the skin into the sugar and you are in for a treat, as it works to add an almost caramel-toffee-like quality to the already honey-glistened skin.

Fold up some of the meat, skin, and fixings into the wrapper, burrito-style, and get ready for a bite of bliss. It’s a mouthful that’s at once sweet, savory, crisp, succulent, and familiar — yet risen to greater heights.

Of course, one can’t live on Peking duck alone, so make sure you give full attention to the rest of the menu, too.

I’m always thrilled when a restaurant offers dim sum at dinner time. The Kurobuta pork XLB are $9 for four or $16 for 8. So, it’s actually cheaper by the piece to get the large order. Believe you me, you won’t regret it, not when the dumplings are as as delectable as these with thin wrappers holding enough broth to slurp up, along with a juicy nugget of ground pork inside.

Beijing pot stickers ($12) are not half-moon-shaped but cigar-like. Crisped in the pan, they also contain a juicy pork filling.

Beef & zucchini pockets ($10) are like little hockey pucks of dough that have been pan-fried. They also squirt with juice and are very hearty tasting.

Green onion pancakes ($12) are executed well here. They’re flaky like pastry and non-greasy tasting.

From the veggie section, you can’t go wrong with dry-fried string beans ($18), tender yet crisp with a garnish of dried red peppers.

For a hit of numbing spice, there’s dan dan noodles ($16). A mound of noodles sits at the center of a brothy red sauce with green onions and ground pork. At first glance, the sauce may look too soupy. But as you mix it all up, the noodles will start to absorb much of it. As you help yourself to some, just know that the last serving of noodles at the very bottom of the bowl, which will have spent the most time in the Sichuan peppercorn-filled sauce, will be the most tingling-inducing. Even so, you’ll be hard pressed not to go back for more because that citrusy, floral, peppery taste is so darn addictive.

Another dish not to be missed is the Royal-Style Grilled Lamb ($24). Tender slivers of lamb with a copious amount of onions arrives sizzling on a grill plate set over a brazier. The flame underneath not only keeps the meat warm for every bite, but also heightens the aroma of the meat, making it even more enticing.

We enjoyed leftovers the next day, with every mouthful making me long to come back for more. In fact, if my parents were still alive, I would take them here in a heartbeat because they would have loved it for sure.

Another Chinatown Restaurant to Visit: Four Kings