[Photo by Mike Peters/China Daily]

Overlooking the bustle of the Gongti area from third- and fourth-floor dining rooms on Hong Street, Yi Jia Ran is a quiet oasis in the humming heart of China's capital. Customized from Jingdezhen, a pair of delicate chopsticks perches alongside charmingly painted tableware to create a tiny tableau of Chinese style and modern art.

There is no disturbing smell of hotpot when you are in the restaurant, and no smoky aura lingers in your clothes when you get home. "That's because the soup stocks are totally natural and fresh," our host says. "There is also no recycled oil, and no MSG."

There are other joys to be found in the soups. Like in most hotpot eateries, there are several soups to choose from, and you can order two different ones in a split soup basin.

We opt for one broth that is spicy and one that is not, and the latter provides the first surprise of the night. The soup was not only rich but studded with chunks of tomato and papaya－a pairing that sounded weird but tasted terrific. The tropical fruit added summer freshness as well as flavor. (I've added papaya, a fruit I normally consider bland compared to other fruits of the season, to my next shopping list.)

The management insists on fresh ingredients: "It's our respect to this Chinese traditional cuisine," says our host. She says that the restaurant brings in fresh beef every morning at dawn to make sure that it will be tender and juicy when served. The chef's special recommendations: Crispy goose sausage, handmade meatballs and fresh Chengdu beef osmasum. (That's a particular part of a cow's stomach, which is presented so beautifully－sliced and suspended like white harp strings－that you may be tempted to set aside any misgivings about eating guts and give it a try).