Royal City Restaurant & Tavern is a weeknight-dinner answer first and a sit-down restaurant second — a broad, low-priced Chinese-Canadian menu in Guelph that most tables meet through a takeout bag rather than a chair. It stretches from Cantonese chow mein to a Western sandwich, built for family orders, weekend pickup, and the night when nobody wants to cook. The name is borrowed honestly: Guelph has long answered to the nickname the Royal City, and the kitchen at the north end of Edinburgh Road took the title for its own. It keeps the same hours every day of the week, eleven in the morning to nine at night, holidays included.
The cooking is Cantonese-Canadian comfort food, the canon a generation of Ontario grew up ordering. Cantonese Chow Mein anchors the noodle side; Sweet & Sour Chicken Balls arrive breaded and lacquered in bright red sauce; General Tao's Chicken carries the sweet-hot register that disappears first from a shared table. Behind them runs a deep bench: Chicken Fried Rice and the house Royal's Fried Rice, Jar Doo Chicken Wings, honey garlic spareribs, beef with broccoli, Singapore chow foon, wonton soup, and sharper Szechuan and Gung Bo plates for anyone who wants heat set against the milder picks. Portions are built for sharing and for leftovers. Price is the through-line: an Egg Roll still goes for two dollars, a combination plate runs ten, and most mains land between nine and fifteen.
Read the menu in full and the ambition shows. It moves through appetizers and Cantonese favourites, fried rice and chow mein, combination plates, Szechuan dishes, soups and seafood, full-course dinners, then keeps going into a Canadian lane of fish and chips and Western sandwiches, the half that answers to the "Tavern" on the sign. Egg foo yong and chop suey are still on it too, dishes that have slipped off most newer menus but that a long-running kitchen keeps because someone still asks. That sweep is the small-Ontario-town Chinese-restaurant tradition in full: one kitchen expected to feed everyone who comes through the door, whatever they showed up wanting. Royal City has worked that lane since 1968, long enough that the menu reads less like a set of choices than a record of what a neighbourhood actually orders, decade after decade. The breadth is the argument — a single kitchen that means to satisfy the entire table.
In practice the kitchen runs on group and family orders, and the clearest expression of that is the Special Dinner for 4. It bundles chicken fried rice, chicken with mixed vegetables, chicken chow mein, sweet and sour chicken balls, four egg rolls, and a handful of fortune cookies for a shade under thirty-four dollars — a full table's worth of food at a price that does the deciding for you. Short of the bundle, combination plates and full-course dinners do the same job for smaller tables, folding several dishes into one number. The whole operation tilts toward online ordering and pickup, with delivery through UberEats, so a good share of the cooking never touches a table at all. It leaves in paper bags on a weeknight, headed home.
None of this chases novelty, and that is the point. A Chinese-Canadian kitchen in a town like Guelph stays useful by being there: prices low enough to settle the question of dinner, hours that don't close for a holiday, a menu wide enough to feed a whole table in a single stop. Royal City took the city's own nickname for its sign, and made itself the kind of place a household stops noticing until the evening calls for it, and finds, when it goes to phone the order in, already open.