Pungent fishy odors and decapitated roasted ducks displayed behind tarnished store windows will forever be associated with my childhood. When my family lived in Massachusetts, my Filipino mother and aunt, with me in tow, would regularly head to Boston’s Chinatown to stock up on Asian cooking supplies. The sight of butchered pigs’ feet and other cuts of meat atypical to some bring me right back to the good ole’ days—carefree weekends sweetened by Chinese bakery treats (sticky rice cakes, spongy buns and egg tarts, oh my!) and perfected by piled-high dim sum steamers.
To this day I’m a dim sum junkie. Though I’m now a resident of Orlando, a city lacking a proper Chinatown, it’s tough to kick the habit. The array of so-so Orlando area establishments I’ve tried haven’t weakened my resolve; I’ve gorged in a few Chinatowns in
Canada and plan to visit as many others around the globe (San Francisco’s and New York’s top my list) as I can.
On my New England itinerary, dim sum is as indispensable as a lobster dinner or a bowl of clam chowdah. So, naturally, a visit to my hometown must include a fix of steamed dumplings and fried delicacies as well as an afternoon of poking around the Hub’s small but adequate Asian district (with a traditional paifang gate marking its Beach Street entrance, the neighborhood is nestled between Downtown Crossing and the South End).
I
f you’ve never had dim sum before, think brunch ÷ appetizers = dim sum. Not too many heavy foods are on the menu, which is generally served from mid-morning to mid-afternoon. Go, and you’ll sample an assortment of bite-size items in between sips of jasmine tea. (Actually, you eat dim sum dishes during
yum cha, an age-old description for the Chinese practice of drinking tea that now refers to the entire midday dining experience.)
Typically, the goodies will come to you, safely stowed aboard metal trolleys that slowly traverse a dining room packed with hungry, jovial diners.
But, unless you speak Cantonese, you probably won’t understand the singsong chants repeatedly uttered by the crew of women (a.k.a. the cart ladies) hawking fresh batches of
har gow (shrimp dumplings),
char siu bau (steamed buns filled with barbecue pork) and
chee cheong fun (wide rice noodles) as they roam. But, that’s part of the fun. If something looks good, grab it—you never know when more will roll by.
A few eateries have done away with the carts, replacing them with paper order slips that the customer marks up. Regardless of how the food gets to your plate, dim sum isn’t for you if you dislike trying new and exotic eats. Aside from the oft-present language barrier, there isn’t much time for staff to provide lengthy explanations of every delectable offering. (With dim sum rising in popularity among Westerners, some restaurants have begun providing picture menus with descriptions, but where’s the fun in that?)
While
there are places that offer dim sum items all day, first timers really should experience this meal at lunchtime, when the roving buffet is in full swing. Newbies also should keep in mind that the traditional dim sum restaurant can be a frenzied environment, often laced with the sounds of clattering dishes and loud conversations. But, after a few visits, you may welcome the noisy, bustling crowds, because more people mean more turnaround—i.e., fresher food makes it to your plate and, provided you’ve learned how to properly grasp a set of chopsticks, into your belly.
Now that you’ve finished reading this blog, you should be very hungry, so here are a few suggestions for where to chow down. Fellow dim sum addicts: Did I leave out your favorite eatery? If so, please post your recommendations in the comment section below so I know where to head next!
Boston
China Pearl
9 Tyler St.
(617) 426-4338
Montréal
La Maison Kam Fung
1111 rue St-Urbain
(514) 878-2888
New York City
Ping’s
22 Mott St.
(212) 602-9988
San Francisco
Hang Ah Tea Room
1 Pagoda Pl. (1 Hang Ah St.)
(415) 982-5686
Toronto
Lai Wah Heen
108 Chestnut St.
(416) 977-9899
