Patong's tallest building, the Royal Paradise Hotel is crowned by the Royal Kitchen and blessed with a remarkable bird's-eye view. The best time to dine in this Cantonese restaurant is around sunset, as the first bright sparks of nightlife begin to twinkle below and the sun finally sizzles out in the Andaman. You can see the whole bay from here, complete with the hills and headlands that embrace it. Breathtaking is an understatement. The magnificent outlook is complemented by a décor that includes deep reds and hand-painted murals, statuary out of Chinese mythology and chairs with backs carved in the shape of seashells.

Those thinking of dining on Cantonese cuisine would best take along an expert to help with the ordering. We were by no means amateurs when it came to ordering at a number of other international restaurants, but confronted with a menu inscribed in Chinese characters and dripping with oddly named dishes or exotic illustrations can leave us in a quandary. Should we go with stir-fry or sweet and sour? Or both? Or would that represent a culinary faux-pas?

The meal itself was high art. This is thanks to the tireless efforts of Master Chef Khun Chuchart who, at 67 years of age, shows no sign of retiring. Khun Chuchart has been with the restaurant since it opened 15 years ago, and brings talents honed at the top Cantonese restaurants in Bangkok and Australia. First up was a choice of delicious soups, Sichuan or Hong Kong seafood, the former spicy, the latter creamy and rich with lobster, prawn and scallops. "Add a little pepper," Khun Daow, the restaurant manager, suggested with a smile. So we did, and the flavours of each of the different seafoods came alive. An additional appetizer was served in a sculpted taro basket full of fat, juicy prawns in a sweet cream sauce, chilled and refreshing and perfectly comple- mented by a glass of the house white wine.

Our main course included another prawn dish. Deep fried in an orange sauce, these presented an entirely different taste sensation from the chilled appetizer. The table also groaned under dishes of Hokkien noodles, steamed red crab, and sea asparagus. The crab was extraordinarily succulent, piquant with soy sauce. Sea asparagus was not a vegetable dish. This crustacean, denuded of its shell, steamed, and then fried and served with a sublime sauce, was the highlight of the meal. Its texture was akin to scallops, but its flavour was very much its own.

We rounded out our evening at the Royal Kitchen with traditional Chinese digestifs: a dessert of bean curd, pineapple and papaya salad and a cup of fragrant jasmine tea. It had been a memorable meal, and certainly not one we would have ordered ourselves. Having an expert along to help made all the difference.