You can't book for the dim sum at my favourite Chinese restaurant. You just turn up and join the queue for its lunchtime feast. I sometimes think that wicker baskets of steaming dumplings would be my first choice for my last supper. There is much comfort and solace in the soft, paper-thin dough and a certain intrigue in the prawn, pork and green herb fillings. What better way could there be to depart this world than with a plump little Chinese dumpling full of prawns and coriander in your mouth?

I have to admit to a liking for the more basic end of the Chinese restaurant world. Posh Chinese, like posh French (or come to think of it, posh pretty much anything) tends to stick in my throat. I like the fact that the staff rarely smile and have a take-it-or-leave-it attitude. I don't even mind when they openly roll their eyes while I dither between the turnip cake and the chicken's feet. Although the one who once said, 'Hurry up, I have all these other people to serve, too' was probably pushing their luck. Still, rather a display of blatant honesty than being told by one of the more celebrated designer places, 'We have a table at eight but you have to be out by nine-thirty'. You could almost hear the ker-ching of the cash register in the receptionist's voice.

There is without doubt some truly great Chinese food around at the moment. In the space of just 48 hours, I have sat down to not only some of the best dim sum ever, whose fillings sang sweet and juicy from their steaming dough shells, but elsewhere, a staggeringly fine if bum-tinglingly spicy Szechuan dinner.

I felt it was more than time that we celebrated all that is great about Chinese cooking. In this issue, Jay Rayner and a host of chefs and food critics point us in the direction of the best of the best; Paul Merton tells us about his trip round China; and Alexei Sayle writes in praise of the all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet.

For those who love their garlic, black beans, chilli and ginger, the choice of where to eat has never been more exciting. It now seems that there is a Chinese restaurant to suit everyone.

And call me an anarchist if you like, but I rather go along with the modern idea of all-day dim sum. Yes, I know it's just plain wrong, but there is something about being able to pop in for a little basket of steaming parcels any time you fancy. After all, you never know exactly when you might be wanting that last supper.