Hoi An might be one of the coolest little towns in the world. It reminded me of the water towns not far from Shanghai, except with a modern touch that seems to blend seamlessly with the old. And like any cool little town worth its salt, Hoi An has a couple of dishes that claim to be indigenous to the town. As such, we made our way to Green Heaven in Hoi An to try out the goods.

It began with a little something called White Rose Dumplings. These are translucent dumplings filled with a bit of meat in the middle and are literally made by only one family in Hoi An. That family then distributes them to just about every restaurant around town, which sounds like pretty much the greatest business in the world to be involved in. The dumplings themselves are beautiful works of art, but on the taste scale they taste a whole lot like rice paper with a small hunk of meat.

I also had myself some of their cao lầu noodles, which are also special to Hoi An. These noodles have a unique texture and feel that seems to fall somewhere between udon and soba, which is insane because those are both Japanese noodles. But for real, they have an udon-like thickness with soba-like texture. Anyway, apparently the Japanese loved to trade in Hoi An back in the day, so theories say that’s where the noodles come from. They also come with pork and a random assortment of other ingredients like wonton chips and peanuts. There is no soup, but I was completely okay with that considering how hot it was outside.

Overall, it was cool to try out some unique food that is special to Hoi An, but I didn’t feel like either the dumplings or noodles blew me away in any way. Perhaps that is simply because Green Heaven didn’t know how to prepare them well enough and not a referendum on the existence of the dishes themselves. Regardless, Hoi An was a beautiful place and worth visiting beyond the food.

Hotels aren’t exactly known for their food. Yet, there has been a trend to try to get better restaurants into hotels and I give those hotels major props for trying. In Pasadena the dusitD2 Constance Hotel has a spot called Constance Perry’s. It’s kind of Asian, kind of American, but definitely not fusion because those dishes kind of stand out on their own.

Thus, we began with their Pork Soup Dumplings, or as I like to call them, xiaolongbao. I was amazed to find that when the bamboo steamer was opened to reveal these dumplings they were black instead of the traditional off-white color. Unfortunately, it turned out that black xialongbao did not necessarily translate into better xiaolongbao. The dough was kind of spongy and the soup didn’t boast too much flavor.

But then there was the main course. I split the Short Ribs and Flat Iron Steak because that’s just the kind of person I am. Both were beyond my expectations and made me quickly forget about the dark side of xiaolongbao. The Short Ribs were perfectly tender and had been braised in a sauce worthy of many flavors, while the Flat Iron Steak had been cooked to a perfect medium-rare and was accompanied by truffle fries that felt just right. I would have been happy with either one of these, but was certainly glad to have both.

If I were to return to Constance Perry’s, I would skip right over the appetizers and head to the main courses. They change seasonally, so you can never really be sure what will be available. Yet, if the Short Ribs and Flat Iron Steak are any indication of what regularly appears, it will be difficult to walk away disappointed.

Koreatown is so damn big that the only way you can possibly figure out which restaurants are good is by word of mouth. Thus, my buddy suggested Myung In Dumplings, which is essentially a Korean-ized Chinese dumpling spot right in the heart of Koreatown. I think he found it by watching some TV show, which generally means delicious food and I was hoping the TV would lead me right again.

The menu wasn’t too big, but there were plenty of dumplings to choose from. We ordered the King Steam Dumplings (the big old fluffy type), Spicy Steam Roll Dumplings (the shriveled up logs), Fried Dumplings (potstickers) and Dumpling Beef Soup (like in a bowl with liquid, not soup dumplings).

It was different from the dumpling experiences that I am used to with Chinese food because Chinese dumplings are always (at least in my experience) packed with spices with sauces more as an accompaniment. These, however, didn’t have a lot of built-in flavor in the fillings and seemed to rely more on differentiating on the different encasings. Each bite required a spoon or squeeze of sauce to provide flavor and while I loved the sauces, I found that I was doing the work that I was used to the restaurant doing. Even the Spicy Steam Roll Dumplings were just regular Steam Roll Dumplings with a chili sauce in the middle of the plate to qualify as spicy.

Perhaps I just have a lack of understanding of Korean dumplings. There’s no question that Myung In did a great job with what I am simply calling the encasings. The King Steam Dumplings were super fluffy and a whole lot of fun to eat with chopsticks and the Fried Dumplings were cooked to a perfect crisp on the bottom with a soft top. Clearly, there wasn’t any mistake in the preparation, but I guess when it comes to dumplings Myung In just left me longing for something different.

There is a saying attributed to Jonathan Gold that goes something like “‘A’ is for ‘American’ Chinese food, ‘B’ is for ‘Better’ Chinese food and ‘C’ is for ‘Chinese’ Chinese food.” The letters, of course, are in reference to the health code and if you’ve ever been to China, you would know this to be true. Thus, when I heard great things about the dumplings at Emperor Noodles in San Gabriel and then found out it had a “B” rating, I got pretty excited to try it out.

Due to my familiarity with many things Chinese, I was put mostly in charge of the ordering and even used a bit of Mandarin to impress my waiter. It’s amazing how bad white Americans are with languages that even the correct pronunciation of Kung Pao Chicken (gong bao jidin) blows real Mandarin speakers away. So, I ordered two sets of shengjianbao (pan-fried soup dumpling) because I knew one per person would not be enough. It turned out I was right, as these were by far the biggest hit of the meal, beginning with the perfect dough, moving on to the delicious pork and finishing with the delightfully crispy sesame seed-laden bottom.

We probably could have just ordered a few more sets of those and been happy, but instead we added on some Salt and Pepper Shrimp, Kung Pao Chicken, Stir-Fried Rice Cakes and Duck Noodle Soup. It was quite the range of food and every bite was delicious. The in-laws weren’t exactly excited about peeling their own shrimp, but were pretty happy with the taste they found inside. Oh, and pepper in this case didn’t mean the seasoning, it meant the vegetable in case you’re wondering.

The kung pao chicken was the perfect throwback to my time in China, where I ate this stuff pretty often. It was just the right amount of oily, peanutty and spicy. And if you wanted it to be extra spicy all you had to do was take down a few of the peppers littered around the plate. They weren’t hard to find.

As for the rice cakes, they were probably my least favorite dish of the meal and also some of the lesser rice cakes I’ve eaten. The cakes themselves were fine, but the sauce was definitely lacking in flavor and there was very little meat to be found. In fact, nearly every time I thought I found a juicy morsel, it turned out to be cabbage with enough sauce on it to make it look like meat.

The duck soup was a nice way to finish out the meal (never mind that the rice cakes came out last, I saved the soup to finish things off). I say it was a good way to finish because it had great, yet subtle flavor, allowing me to wash everything else down while still enjoying some taste. It didn’t hurt that the noodles were also very enjoyable and the duck and bamboo shoots were pretty snazzy.

So, yeah, it was a solid outing. Not every dish was tops, but the overall experience felt ripped right out of my time living in Shanghai and frankly even real Shanghai would have trouble competing with this shengjianbao.

Once every 60 years the world is greeted with the Year of the Golden Pig. The last one was in 2007, yet if you live in Pittsburgh, every day can be a Golden Pig day, assuming you are willing to drive out to Cecil. That’s where Golden Pig, a Korean restaurant that pretty much operates as a small Korean household, is situated. The only difference is that you don’t have to take your shoes off when you enter.

With only about 9 places to sit and only 1 wok to prepare meals in, Golden Pig is about as close as you can get to eating at a Korean friend’s place. Only, your friend probably can’t cook as well as Yong Kwon, the wizard behind Golden Pig’s nonexistent curtain. We decided to load up on a few different dishes because this was not a drive we wanted to make again too soon. The first was a Korean Pancake appetizer, which came with kimchi or peppers mixed into it. We went with kimchi, which seemed to be the lesser of two evils and also I couldn’t really help but invoke travel rules in a situation like this.

The pancake was pretty tasty, well, except when the pieces of pickled cabbage got too big. Then it was kind of like eating breaded cabbage, which isn’t fun for anyone. Nonetheless, it was a solid start to the meal and left me wanting more. And don’t worry, more came in the form of Man-Du, a special Korean dumpling that is sort of reminiscent of gyoza without being anything at all like gyoza. Nonetheless, it was still incredibly delicious and something I’ll have to try again a my next Korean restaurant.

We opted to split three main courses and began with Jop-Chae a stir-fry with sweet potato noodles, a bunch of no good vegetables and choice of meats. We chose beef for this one and it turned out pretty well. The noodles were similar to other glass noodles I’ve had before, but seasoned differently either through the fact that they were from sweet potatoes or just from the general seasoning. The beef was good, but definitely was not the focal point of the dish, which is always a disappointment to me, of course.

Typically I am all about the bulgogi beef, but on this night we decided to get Daiji Bulgogi instead. This is a spicier bulgogi and made with pork instead of beef. Yet, it still has very thinly slice meat and that spice that makes the meat distinctly bulgogi. What it is I couldn’t tell you, but it was definitely delicious. In fact, it actually wasn’t too spicy, just more so than your average bulgogi flavoring. The pork was nice and tender, going perfectly with its sauce.

Finally, we had ourselves some Kalbi, which is grilled short ribs. Short ribs aren’t exactly the finest cut of steak, but with the marinade that these were cooked in they might as well have been a fine filet. The sauce was sweet and savory, while the meat was cooked to a perfect medium-rare without a need to even ask for it that way. Kwon just knows how to do steak. The ribs were perfectly tender with a texture that just kept begging me to eat more.

So, in case you can’t tell, Golden Pig was definitely a good choice. I’m typically pretty partial to Korean BBQ places with all-you-can-eat meat, but if I’m going to allow someone else to cook for me and accept that I can’t just eat until the end of time, Golden Pig is the right place to do it in Pittsburgh.

Chinatowns are an interesting phenomenon. And not so much in the fact that a group of people from a country showed up to a new country and settled in one area, but in the way that they no longer really seem to be representative of China. Case in point: while in Vancouver, I knew there was good Chinese to be found, and rather than point me to Chinatown, my hotel pointed me to Richmond, which he called real Chinatown. By real, he meant that the Chinatown on the map was simply no longer authentic, if it ever was. By recommendation, we went to a place called Rainflower to devour dim sum before undertaking the long drive to Jasper.

As opposed to the dim sum I have grown used to, Rainflower took more of a dumpling house tactic of letting the customers mark off their desired dishes on a checklist. This was a nice change from the often-overwhelming carts being pushed around by people who seem disappointed every time I pass on an option.

Despite this difference, Rainflower’s food wasn’t really any different from any dim sum I have had before. Tasty shrimp, flavorful pork, custard tarts and rice noodles all rang true, plus I was pleased to see xiaolongbao included in the offerings. Being one of my favorite Chinese dishes, it seemed that Rainflower knew how to make me happy. It wasn’t my favorite xiaolongbao, but it sure was a nice addition.

Now, I must say that as happy as I was with the typical dim sum I had at Rainflower, I couldn’t help but think Vancouver could offer me something better. It had satisfied my hunger, but with such a great Chinese population and easy access to Asia and the oceans, I had some lofty expectations and while Rainflower met the lowest of expectations, I would like to wager that something better is out there.

Guys, I’ll admit it. I’m a Chinese food snob. But I like to think you would be if you once lived there too. For that reason I’m glad I live in LA, but sad that I live on the west side, about half a light-year from the real Chinese food in San Gabriel. That all changed, however, when ROC Kitchen opened up in the area I like to call Little Little Tokyo, but is fast becoming Little Asia with an influx of other Asian food like ROC Kitchen.

ROC Kitchen is a Chinese dumpling house and despite my recent visit to Din Tai Fung, I couldn’t wait to check it out. I went with a few other people and we ordered family style to try just about everything. First, of course, we got the classic pork xiaolongbao. These steamed soup dumplings hit the spot and while they may not have been the best they were quite delicious.

We then went for another classic, the rice cakes. Unlike typical cake, these are more like thick rice noodles and always make me happy. These were especially good, in somewhat typical, but somewhat unique brown sauce. As a break from pork, we ordered ours with chicken and although they came with spinach, I allowed it because I was sharing. Sharing is the worst.

We weren’t done with dumplings though. We had noticed another table eating something that looked like a sand dollar, which I’m sure is a delicacy somewhere in China, but knew it wasn’t to be eaten here. Nonetheless, we knew it had to be ours and it turned out it was the crispy pork dumplings. These little bundles of joy had no soup, but were fried on some crispy deliciousness and served with that crispiness on top. These were a great way to mix things up and certainly something I had never seen before.

We also got ourselves an order of scallion pancakes. These differed from the usual scallion pancakes in that they were a bit crispier. This wasn’t a bad thing, just a different thing, and perhaps was done so to be a better conduit for the ginger-soy sauce they came with.

All in all, ROC Kitchen may not be the best dumpling house in LA, but they are the undisputed king of the west side. It is awesome to know that they are now just a quick drive away and oh so tasty.

Once upon a time, some great people brought me to a place called Din Tai Fung. Although I was living in Shanghai at the time, I had no idea what to expect on this first visit to Xintiandi and my first introduction to Xiaolongbao (way before it was cool). Luckily, they taught me how to bite in without scalding the insides of my mouth, and I quickly fell in love. More than six years later, I finally made in back to Din Tai Fung, but this time it was in Arcadia, California. Despite the obvious distance between Arcadia and Shanghai, much of Arcadia looks like it was pulled directly out of China. The Din Tai Fung, though, looked little like its counterpart across the Pacific.

In Shanghai, Din Tai Fung is a fancy pants dumpling house. It’s in an affluent part of town and not exactly priced for commoners. In Arcadia it’s a pretty basic place with prices for anyone (to be honest, the actual dollar amount of the food in each place is probably very similar, however, people make much more money on average over here). Nonetheless, the options on the menu were quite similar to what I remembered from back in the day.

So, like any good dumpling-seekers, we began with old-fashioned (pork) Xiaolongbao and its not-so-old-fashioned cousin with pork and crab. Combined with the black vinegar on the table, these guys brought back some great memories. Although they came out steaming, the soup inside wasn’t as hot and scalding as other Xiaolongbao I’d had in the past. Of the two dumplings, I definitely preferred the pork on its own without the crab. To me, there is something pure (not in the Kosher way) and simple about about those pork soup dumplings that makes them great, main reason why I keep on getting dumplings delivery every weekend.

Next, we had the Shanghai Rice Cake with shrimp. The dish consisted of little rice cakes stir fried in a delicious brown sauce, with shrimp and some sort of green leaf that was only there because I was sharing with my friend. The little rice cakes are kind of noodle-y and do a great job of absorbing flavor and adding a unique texture to the dish. They definitely made for a nice change from all the dumplings we were eating.

And speaking of dumplings, we also had ourselves a batch of Shrimp and Pork Shao Mai. As opposed to the crab and pork Xiaolongbao, these kept the two animals separated and depending on the way they were eaten, it could be a mix of meats or not. While these dumplings weren’t bad by any means, I definitely didn’t feel that they were nearly as good as the Xiaolongbao.

We finished off the main meal with some classic Pork Buns. These thick, bready buns were filled with an entirely different pork than any of the dumplings we had eaten. These were more on the sweet side and a tasty way to mix things up. Yet, after destroying so many dumplings earlier in the meal, the pork bun was a bit hard to tackle because of its size.

For the finale, we ordered Sweet Taro Dumplings. If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, then you know I have a special place in my heart and stomach for taro and the prospect of eating taro dumplings excited me. They came out looking like regular Xiaolongbao, but inside they were filled with the good old purple stuff. Well, kind of. They weren’t lying when they called them “Sweet Taro” because these sure were sweet. For someone who loves sweet red bean, the sweet taro would be perfect, but I am not one of those people. It was the first time I had been let down by taro and I will be sure to think twice before eating a sweetened version of that delicious tuber again.

Din Tai Fung definitely delivered the goods on the dumplings. Although it has been a while since I’ve been in China, they definitely did justice to my memory of the motherland. Now, if only a branch of Yang’s Fried-Dumplings would open on this side of the ocean, we’d really be talking!

On our last night in China (tears), we had a tough time finding a restaurant open by the time we finished climbing the Great Wall and shopping at the Silk Market. Although McDonald’s was open 24 hours, we really didn’t want our final meal to be a burger. Finally we found a place just across the street from Quanjude off of Wangfujing Street to get some baozi (steamed bread dumplings). It was called Tianjin Go Believe Steamed Stuffed Bun. Now that was a mouthful, and we hoped their dumplings would be as well.

When we walked in, we seemed to be the only ones there. We attributed this to the late hour, but it was a Saturday night so we still thought it was strange. Apparently no one eats dinner after 9:00 in Beijing. The menu was on the wall and we decided to keep it simple with their steamed pork buns. They were 40 rmb for 9 of them and although that was a bit steep, I was hungry enough to splurge.

After ordering, our dumplings took quite a while to be made. I guess this meant they would be fresh, but was still surprised that a place with no one else took so long while a place like Yang’s in Shanghai took less time and had to make a crapload more dumplings. Nonetheless, they finally came out and didn’t look half bad. There was some soy and vinegar on the table as well as some interesting-looking brown shavings in a dish that seemed to be part of the meal as well. They also brought out a bowl of congee (rice porridge) to accompany the dumplings.

In my Great Wall-fueled hunger I dug in and found the dumplings to be pretty decent. They definitely needed the assistance of the soy/vinegar for flavor, but since I couldn’t figure out what the brown things were, I opted not to sprinkle them on the dumplings. The meat was nice and juicy and the bread was well-prepared as well, but the whole time I ate them, I couldn’t help thinking how much tastier xiaolongbao was. It was almost like I was eating training dumplings, where the xiaolongbao were the pinnacle of dumpling achievement. I know this makes me seem harsh, but I guess I’m just spoiled.

So if you’re looking for some late-night food around Wangfujing Street, Tianjin Go Believe can certainly satisfy your hunger, but the dumplings leave a lot to be desired (namely xiaolongbao). Sorry, Tianjin Go Believe, the only thing I believe about you is that you were the best I could get at that hour. Any other time of day, I know Beijing can offer me some better food.

Just across from Yang’s new location in the new mall on Wujiang Street is another place that serves up xiaolongbao (soup dumplings). It’s called Nan Xiang Steamed Bun Restaurant and cooks them up in the original steamed way. Nan Xiang is actually the part of Shanghai where xiaolongbao originated and you can still find the original in its location near the Yu Garden, but the line is always crazy-long, so when I saw the Nan Xiang restaurant right next to Yang’s, I figured I would give them a taste.

Similar to Yang’s, there is a clear window that allows any passerby to see the magic of dumpling-making. But that’s pretty much where the similarities end. Nan Xiang is more of a sit-down restaurant and because of this, there isn’t a line out the door to draw people in. We were seated pretty quickly and knew what we wanted before looking at the menu. We ordered eight dumplings (their smallest set) and a bit of green tea.

The dumplings came out pretty quickly and were served in an old-fashioned bamboo steamer – presumably the one they were cooked in. The steamed xiaolongbao are smaller than their fried counterpart, so consuming eight between the two of us didn’t seem like much of a daunting task. Picking these up with chopsticks was much easier than the fried ones, so losing soup wasn’t a big concern. The method for eating these is essentially the same as the other xiaolongbao, but with the added bonus of being able to put the dumpling into a spoon after the initial removal from the steamer.

I bit off a small part and slurped out the soup. This is the best way to eat xiaolongbao, because putting the whole thing in your mouth and biting will unleash a scalding soup and leave you with a burnt mouth. Anyway, the soup was nothing short of delicious and although the flavor was slightly different from Yang’s, neither was exactly better. Once the dumpling had been slurped dry, it was time to take on the meat and dough. I found that the meat of the steamed dumpling was a little more flavorful than when fried, but I did miss the crunchiness of the dough that only frying could provide. Although fundamentally the same, steamed and fried xiaolongbao were certainly different enough to merit trying both.

Ultimately I enjoyed the fried dumpling better, but Nan Xiang’s steamed style wasn’t exactly a slacker. And hey, if weren’t for these traditional steamed dumplings, the fried dumplings could never have come to be.