Ask any long-term Sydney diner and they’ll probably tell you that the golden century of restaurants was the 20th. It was a time of long lunches and limitless expense accounts. No smartphones meant big nights – and any corresponding misbehaviour – vanished without evidence.
A jewel of the era was Golden Century Seafood Restaurant in Haymarket, the city’s most storied Cantonese haunt, which opened its doors (and left them open most nights until 4am) in 1989. The XO pipis, the lobster noodles. The beige walls, the colourful characters. A lot went down here, and we hardly knew how good we had it until it was gone.
Gone it was in 2021, a casualty of pandemic shutdowns. So anticipation was feverish when the original owners, the Wong family, announced it would return, this time inside Crown Sydney. Would the food still be good? Would the prices be casino-level stratospheric? Would it still feel a little bit loose? The answer to the first question is yes.

One bite of a true GC classic: the steamed flesh of a (recently) live parrot fish, bathed in gleaming ginger and soy and julienned spring onions, confirms it. Beyond the legends, Golden Century was always a place that knocked out excellent food.
Further proof arrives in the form of three siu mai dumplings, juicy and savoury. Soft-crisp triangles of deep-fried beancurd smash every umami receptor with their snow of salt and pepper. And it’s not just the well-known dishes that are still working hard. A wildcard – Godmother Chilli Diced Chicken – is a ripping success: a tumble of deep-fried chicken, okra and chilli crisp that tasers the tongue with Sichuan pepper.
This isn’t food that “lets the produce speak for itself”. Here, the produce pipes down a bit, and submits to being tricked up with sauces and spice.
Some things have changed. In 2009, live lobster would set you back about $148 per kilo whereas today it’s around the mid-300s, but nonetheless our bill for three is under $350, including a glass each of chenin blanc (a five-figure bottle of Petrus will obviously blow that out).

The glossy columns and twinkly globe sculptures have more razzle-dazzle than the original, while the 4am closures are a thing of the past, but you can still come back for yum cha the next day. You might even spot a table settling their bill with a stack of roulette-fresh fifties, delivering that shiver of edginess.
The old girl still glows. Maybe the new golden century starts now.