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.

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!

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.

Once upon a time, there was a street called Wujiang in Shanghai just outside the Nanjing West Subway Station. At all hours of the day, the street was lined with food vendors and inside the old buildings were delicious, old-school Chinese restaurants. On that street was a hole in the wall called Yang’s Fried-Dumpling, which served a delicious xiaolongbao (pronounced shiao-long-bow) with the special twist that it was fried (as opposed to the traditional steaming method). Xiaolongbao is one of Shanghai’s signature dishes, a dumpling stuffed with pork that creates a soup inside when cooked. The dumpling is sealed air-tight so the soup stays inside until it is eaten. Even though Yang’s went against tradition by frying their dumplings, there was always a line outside their door.

A lot has changed in Shanghai in the past couple years, especially on that street that literally does not exist anymore. All of the old restaurants, including Yang’s and a place that had my favorite kung pao chicken, were knocked down to likely build some sort of shopping center. Fortunately, at least Yang’s has been reborn in a little mall on the other end of Wujiang Street. Yang’s looks out of place in the white-tiled, sterile mall, but they still have a line of people out the door at all hours. The dumplings come in sets of four for five rmb and have to be paid for at the cash register in advance. After grabbing a receipt, you can get in line and watch the dumpling-makers work away.

After watching them work tirelessly to scoop out ground pork, stuff it inside hand-crafted dumpling dough and fry those suckers up, my hunger for xiaolongbao grew and grew. Finally we made it to the front and grabbed our dumplings. I opened the lid and they looked simply beautiful. Now the key to eating these soup dumplings is recognizing the fact that these have just come out of the fryer and are filled with scalding hot soup, so it’s best to not just plop the whole thing in your mouth and take a bite. Instead, the idea is to take a small bite from the top and slowly slurp the soup out. This is the best way to avoid a burnt tongue and to truly appreciate the soup. After slurping all the soup, the rest of the can be eaten pretty easily.

I picked up my first dumpling and went through the ritual. After slurping and biting, I found that Yang’s hadn’t lost their touch. The soup was delicious and the pork had some great flavor. Although I’m pretty skilled with the chopsticks, these fried dumplings were pretty tough to pick up without puncturing the dumplings. This caused the tragic loss of soup in a couple dumplings, but the fried-dumplings made up for this with their incredibly tasty and crispy dough.

Despite moving into an odd little mall, Yang’s Fried-Dumpling is still a force to be reckoned with in the Shanghai. Although not prepared in the traditional way, frying the dumplings adds a nice little crispiness to the dough that just can’t be duplicated by steaming. Because of that, Yang’s should definitely be on the list of places to eat for any visitor to Shanghai hoping to get some delicious xiaolongbao.