CHIEN-MIN CHUNG FOR TIME FOOD CHIC: Zhang blends Chinese and non-Chinese ingredients in fresh ways that appeal to all the senses

Many of the world's great gourmets can trace their passion to a single dish. Zhang Jinjie, China's first celebrity chef, found hers in an overstocked crockery pantry. Zhang, a jet-setting classical musician with a weakness for elegant tableware, returned from a concert tour in 1997 dismayed to find that her acquisitiveness was crowding her out of her apartment. "I simply had too much beautiful china," she sighs. Unwilling to part with a single saucer, she had a flash of inspiration: "I'd just have to open a restaurant."

What she had in mind was no ordinary corner canteen. Zhang wanted elegance and class: softly lit walls and gracefully arranged furniture. The tinkle of teacups over subdued strains of melody played by her fellow musicians. She wanted to sprinkle the plates with flower petals, pile the bookshelves with volume upon volume of glossy, gorgeous photography. There was just one small catch: Zhang knew next to nothing about food. So she hired a chef. But when he quit just months after Green T. House got cooking, Zhang found herself alone in the kitchen.

Unlike most Chinese chefs who tend to cleave to a set of long-established recipes, Zhang, 30, didn't have time to study her country's voluminous culinary traditions; besides, she wanted to create something new. So she improvised. She put green tea in her dumplings (and nearly everything else on her menu) and introduced non-Chinese ingredients—capers, basil and even sour dill pickles—into old standbys of northern China's earthy cuisine. The results, garnished whimsically with everything from dogwood branches and palm fronds to champagne flutes filled with glass beads, were a hit. Most of Zhang's first regulars were foreigners, and not surprisingly so. The prices were steep, and the Chinese believe that the quality of a restaurant is inversely proportional to the lavishness of its décor. But eventually curiosity got the better of Zhang's countrymen: now her clientele is almost as diverse as her china collection. Like the work of her counterparts in design and art, Zhang's creations are modern without being foreign, a feature in ever higher demand among China's increasingly discriminating consumers.

Her fame keeps her busy. In April 2002 she was selected as the only female and sole Chinese to attend the annual World Gourmet Summit in Singapore. Last month she opened two restaurants: My Humble House (which is anything but) in Singapore's $335 million Esplanade arts complex, and a new incarnation of Green T. House in roomier digs in Beijing, both of which she designed herself. The day before the reopening, Thai-American chef Tommy Tang (of the eponymous Los Angeles celebrity watering hole) showed up to shoot a cooking show that will air on public television in the U.S. The crew, a jaded group of L.A. foodies, wolfed down plates of green-tea fennel dumplings and black-tea roasted rice with almonds and mushrooms, and were back the next night for seconds.

Zhang greeted them politely and then disappeared behind the bar to unpack some boxes she had brought back from Singapore. What was in them? "Now that I have a bigger restaurant," she grinned, "I thought I'd buy just a few more dishes."

—With reporting by Douglas Wong/Singapore