It's been a long time since my ex and I broke up. After it happened, rather than blaming her or getting bent out of shape, I did the mature thing and moped. Which, naturally, one should do; it's healthy and therapeutic or something. I was also bitter that she had always been scared to be seen around Chinatown with me -- she's Cantonese, I'm white, and you already knew that -- for fear that some home-town nosey parker would report back to her elderly mother that the daughter was seeing a kwailo.
As the "foreign" element, I was the non-person.
Chinese can be frightful racists that way.
But you know something?
I'm over it.
We went out for dimsum just ONCE during our relationship of several years. Since then I've had dimsum far more often by myself than during my entire previous life. Dimsum in the Chinese context is often a group thing, several people go out and share eaties and tea. But I'm white, stubborn, and a bit of a loner, and I'm fine doing that by myself.
I can smoke my pipe afterwards while wandering around.
Really, I'm not a very social person.
I don't like groups.
Dimsum tastes better as a snack than as a sustained assault with several friends or relatives on all the goodies being wheeled out of the kitchen in a loud crowded environment. The hustle and bustle of a popular tea restaurant can be bothersome, irritating even. Lunch should be enjoyed, rather than becoming an endurance test or competitive event.
I don't like buffets for the same reason.
Hunger games.
Bah.
I never ate with her relatives, never even met them. If we had gone out for dimsum, I probably would've dropped my chopsticks, and later said that it had been fun, and please let us never do that again.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Showing posts with label 點心. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 點心. Show all posts
Sunday, December 03, 2017
Tuesday, September 19, 2017
WELL-BEHAVED, BATHED, AND NO TATTOOS
This happens all the time: one friend goes eating with another friend, and then a photo of one of them looking happy with food is posted on Facebook.
Guys, stop doing that. It's pissing off your Aspy and not-sufficiently-socialized acquaintances!
From the moment I walked through the door of the dim sum place for a late lunch till when I lit up my pipe outside, NO pictures were snapped.
Also, as you might guess, I ate alone.
That's hardly yam cha.
At the computer company I organized regular trips into Palo Alto for meals, as well as three farewell lunches for departing colleagues. For a number of years I got bunches of people to a coffee shop near a regular manifestation we all took part in, think of it as inclusionary and team building or whatever, and bought everybody stimulating beverages.
Thank you all for coming.
There are many people I know and with whom I associate.
I am by inclination a social eater.
Or I was.
一盅兩件
['yat jung leung kin']
Dim sum should have a bunch of people around the table, so that a variety of snacky things can be enjoyed along with conversation and lots of tea.
One bowl of tea and two things from the steam-table (一盅兩件) is, when you think about it, a rather piss-poor excuse for a dim sum lunch.
There was no conversation. I had plenty of time to think, and the afternoon was marked by extraordinary peace and quiet.
'grumble grumble grumble'
Bright spots: making snarky remarks on a Yeshivish discussion page, two pipe-fulls of splendid flake tobacco, the severely stark beauty of empty alleyways, little girls playing with their dogs in a park under their mothers' watchful eyes, middle-aged tourist couples holding hands, parrots loudly quarrelling in the trees down at Sue Bierman Park, and watching crows taking in the last warm rays perched on a row of traffic lights.
Crows, it turns out, really like each other's company.
And are calmy affectionate.
PS.: New rule - all funerals must include free coffee.
Otherwise no one will even show up.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Guys, stop doing that. It's pissing off your Aspy and not-sufficiently-socialized acquaintances!
From the moment I walked through the door of the dim sum place for a late lunch till when I lit up my pipe outside, NO pictures were snapped.
Also, as you might guess, I ate alone.
That's hardly yam cha.
At the computer company I organized regular trips into Palo Alto for meals, as well as three farewell lunches for departing colleagues. For a number of years I got bunches of people to a coffee shop near a regular manifestation we all took part in, think of it as inclusionary and team building or whatever, and bought everybody stimulating beverages.
Thank you all for coming.
There are many people I know and with whom I associate.
I am by inclination a social eater.
Or I was.
一盅兩件
['yat jung leung kin']
Dim sum should have a bunch of people around the table, so that a variety of snacky things can be enjoyed along with conversation and lots of tea.
One bowl of tea and two things from the steam-table (一盅兩件) is, when you think about it, a rather piss-poor excuse for a dim sum lunch.
There was no conversation. I had plenty of time to think, and the afternoon was marked by extraordinary peace and quiet.
'grumble grumble grumble'
Bright spots: making snarky remarks on a Yeshivish discussion page, two pipe-fulls of splendid flake tobacco, the severely stark beauty of empty alleyways, little girls playing with their dogs in a park under their mothers' watchful eyes, middle-aged tourist couples holding hands, parrots loudly quarrelling in the trees down at Sue Bierman Park, and watching crows taking in the last warm rays perched on a row of traffic lights.
Crows, it turns out, really like each other's company.
And are calmy affectionate.
PS.: New rule - all funerals must include free coffee.
Otherwise no one will even show up.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
BEGINNING THE DAY WITH HOT BLACK GOO
Mordechai posits that the American breakfast is sugar, cereal, and with the addition of dairy, damned close to dessert. Several readers throw variations on that theme into the mix. And, nutritionally, they are indeed on the right track.
Except, of course, for the pesky little fact that American cereals are absolutely disgusting, and the very idea of eating that crap would send me screaming out of the house into the rain storm.
Froooooooooooooooot. Loooooooooooooooops.
The ideal breakfast, as everyone knows, wakes you up without stressing you out, and renders you calm, rational, even keeled, and ready to courageously face the day.
Two cups of coffee, cigarillos, and bleakness.
The English, I believe (and it has also been my experience, so it is more than just a figment of faith) have various substances seethed in bacon fat, including sliced tomato, and the Dutch eat bread and cheese or smoked meats. The rest of Western Europe indulges in fresh rolls and Hero-brand jam, with your choice of coffee or chocolate. And maybe a hard-boiled egg, for the adventurous and lower class.
Two cups of coffee, cigarillos, and bleakness.
Many Chinese have jook (rice porridge), with or without fried dough, and soy milk. The soy milk upsets the stomach, the jook (which only the Cantonese know how to make properly) then soothes the aggravated membranes.
Jook is light lunch or midnight snack food anyhow.
Sometimes the Cantonese have lots of little snackies and a huge amount of tea. Which shows that they aren't committed to morning suffering, and explains why a dim sum teahouse is, at the best of times, bedlam.
They're wired to the gills, and in flavour country!
There you are, stumbling about after your two cups of coffee, cigarillos, and bleakness, when you come across a popping establishment filled with many excited people in the middle of Ngau Tau Kok (牛頭角).
You decide what the heck why not baptism by fire.
Perhaps an hour later you leave, belching, and contemplating the first pipe of the day. You are happier than you have been since dawn, your ears are ringing, you have had a vibrant discussion with four complete strangers about Hollywood movies that provided startling insights, and now some Rattray's Old Gowrie, fully rubbed out, in the Peterson bent bulldog, seems like a dang good idea. You light up behind a row of bins (yellow for drink cans, red for glass and plastic bottles, and blue for paper).
You wonder what's for lunch, in about six hours.
Life is good.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Froooooooooooooooot. Loooooooooooooooops.
The ideal breakfast, as everyone knows, wakes you up without stressing you out, and renders you calm, rational, even keeled, and ready to courageously face the day.
Two cups of coffee, cigarillos, and bleakness.
The English, I believe (and it has also been my experience, so it is more than just a figment of faith) have various substances seethed in bacon fat, including sliced tomato, and the Dutch eat bread and cheese or smoked meats. The rest of Western Europe indulges in fresh rolls and Hero-brand jam, with your choice of coffee or chocolate. And maybe a hard-boiled egg, for the adventurous and lower class.
Two cups of coffee, cigarillos, and bleakness.
Many Chinese have jook (rice porridge), with or without fried dough, and soy milk. The soy milk upsets the stomach, the jook (which only the Cantonese know how to make properly) then soothes the aggravated membranes.
Jook is light lunch or midnight snack food anyhow.
Sometimes the Cantonese have lots of little snackies and a huge amount of tea. Which shows that they aren't committed to morning suffering, and explains why a dim sum teahouse is, at the best of times, bedlam.
They're wired to the gills, and in flavour country!
There you are, stumbling about after your two cups of coffee, cigarillos, and bleakness, when you come across a popping establishment filled with many excited people in the middle of Ngau Tau Kok (牛頭角).
You decide what the heck why not baptism by fire.
Perhaps an hour later you leave, belching, and contemplating the first pipe of the day. You are happier than you have been since dawn, your ears are ringing, you have had a vibrant discussion with four complete strangers about Hollywood movies that provided startling insights, and now some Rattray's Old Gowrie, fully rubbed out, in the Peterson bent bulldog, seems like a dang good idea. You light up behind a row of bins (yellow for drink cans, red for glass and plastic bottles, and blue for paper).
You wonder what's for lunch, in about six hours.
Life is good.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
RUNNY CUSTARD BUN 流沙包
One friend disparages Hong Kong style snackies as naught more than low-grade ingredients dolled-up. Naturally I would disagree, especially as he is also convinced that the spices in Indian food hide spoiled meat, and even one tiny clove of garlic alone can ruin your sex drive.
I haven't asked how he knows that about garlic.
Nor am I interested in his sex drive.
Actually, the sexual urges and activities of my friends seldom interest me, and it is preferred that they do not make a public habit of those things. Kissing, cuddling, and further activities should be done in private, not spoken of, and never detailed to friends or family.
Be discreet, people.
Thank you.
Your gustatory indulgences, however, can be fascinating. Especially if you like what I like. Which is Cantonese food, dim sum, Hong Kong style snackies, Indonesian food, and weird Dutch deep-fried objects.
Oh plus lots of other stuff, I just mentioned the highlights.
I am a sucker for fattening stuff.
A different friend mentioned the runny custard buns at Sun Hing in Kennedy town, which, naturally, made my ears drool.
Seeing as I am in San Francisco, nowhere near Kennedy Town.
[I've mentioned Kennedy Town in a previous post: Eat well and smell good.]
We have great eaties. But we aren't Hong Kong.
Often that is rather a pity.
新興食家
西環堅尼地城士美菲路8號地下C號舖
Sun Hing Restaurant
Western District (Sai Wan), Kennedy Town, Smithfield Street No. 8, Ground Floor, Shop C.
It's two blocks south of the waterline, in case you are interested.
Not too far from the China Merchants Wharf.
Near Gatchik Street.
They also do a number of other dim sum type items, all very nicely, and are a beloved establishment among the locals.
They open at three A.M.
All day food.
流沙包 LAU SAA BAU
I never tried the runny custard bun.
Didn't even know it existed.
A grievous oversight.
It is a thin-skinned steamed object filled with oozing goodness.
I know of no place in San Francisco that does anything like it.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
I haven't asked how he knows that about garlic.
Nor am I interested in his sex drive.
Actually, the sexual urges and activities of my friends seldom interest me, and it is preferred that they do not make a public habit of those things. Kissing, cuddling, and further activities should be done in private, not spoken of, and never detailed to friends or family.
Be discreet, people.
Thank you.
Your gustatory indulgences, however, can be fascinating. Especially if you like what I like. Which is Cantonese food, dim sum, Hong Kong style snackies, Indonesian food, and weird Dutch deep-fried objects.
Oh plus lots of other stuff, I just mentioned the highlights.
I am a sucker for fattening stuff.
A different friend mentioned the runny custard buns at Sun Hing in Kennedy town, which, naturally, made my ears drool.
Seeing as I am in San Francisco, nowhere near Kennedy Town.
[I've mentioned Kennedy Town in a previous post: Eat well and smell good.]
We have great eaties. But we aren't Hong Kong.
Often that is rather a pity.
新興食家
西環堅尼地城士美菲路8號地下C號舖
Sun Hing Restaurant
Western District (Sai Wan), Kennedy Town, Smithfield Street No. 8, Ground Floor, Shop C.
It's two blocks south of the waterline, in case you are interested.
Not too far from the China Merchants Wharf.
Near Gatchik Street.
They also do a number of other dim sum type items, all very nicely, and are a beloved establishment among the locals.
They open at three A.M.
All day food.
流沙包 LAU SAA BAU
I never tried the runny custard bun.
Didn't even know it existed.
A grievous oversight.
It is a thin-skinned steamed object filled with oozing goodness.
I know of no place in San Francisco that does anything like it.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
TEA IN TSUEN WAN
They're open from very early morning till mid-afternoon. Coca cola and other soft-drinks may be had, and there are small stores nearby where other necessities of the American life may be bought. And, given the impossibility of parking in most other places, you'll be glad to know that there is almost no traffic here. On the other hand, you will definitely have to drive. It's in the middle of nowhere, though elsewhere is visible.
Best get there early. No, don't eat breakfast before you set off. But do have coffee; the road is winding, and you will need to be alert.
You're on a hillside in Tsuen Wan.
It's still dark.
淺灣、賊灣、荃灣。
CHIN WAAN, CHAAK WAAN, CHUEN WAAN.
[Shallows bay, Robber bay, Fragrance bay.]
Along the shore there used to be small settlements, and, during the early years of the colony, pirates hid out along the coast. It was all behind the back of beyond then, and not a desirable place. Far from everything. The area is all built-up now, as is Tsing Yi Island (青衣島 Green Robe Island; 'cheng yi dou') across the strait, where "spring flowers fall" (春花落 'chuen faa lok'). Like all of Hong Kong, both Tsuen Wan and Tsing Yi are densely populated and very busy places. Which is why a tea house, on a two lane road in the hills above the city that wriggles and twists, sounds like the perfect place to be when it isn't raining. It would also be ideal during a heavy storm, but transit is more daunting.
Especially before breakfast.
彩龍酒樓
CHOI LUNG RESTAURANT
荃灣，荃錦公路，川龍村，2號。
Located on the fragrant brocade highway in creek dragon village. Their shrimp bonnets (蝦餃 'haa gau') are delicious, so are the spring rolls (春捲 'chuen kuen'), barbecue pork sheet noodles (叉燒腸粉 'chaa siu cheung fan'), quail egg dumplings (鵪鶉蛋燒賣 'am-suen daan siu-maai') which have a beautiful thin skin that crinkles around the filling, phoenix claws (鳳爪 'fung jaau'), deep-fried pork and veggie puff balls (鹹水角 'haam suei gok') and glutinous rice chicken (糯米雞 'no mai gai') which naturally comes steamed in a lotus leaf.
Something which almost every table will also get it is choisum (菜心) with black bean sauce, or briefly stir-fried watercress (西洋菜 'sai yeung choi'). Very good! Hou sik!
They also do fresh soy milk (凍豆漿 'tung dou jeung'), which is not something that particularly tickles my fancy. Frankly, I've always been leery of people who drink it.
On a sunny day you can see forever (well, with topographic limitations) from the upper storey. Green green hills, the hue of vert emeraude.
Grey-blue ridges further away, green robe island far off.
It's an old-fashioned tea house (古式嘅茶居 'gu sik ge chaa keui') by local standards, and consequently well worth it. If you've done your job properly, there will be spattered cups and bowls and saucers and plates and pots littering the table by the time you're finished, you'll be grabbing for a toothpick and belching happily, and wired to the gills on tea.
Go on; have just a little more.
There's always room for tofu pudding (豆腐花 'dou fu faa')...
They make it here with fresh mountain spring water (山水 'saan seui').
AND JOHN FROM KANSAS!
Please note that fastidious western tourists may find it chaotic, and too rambunctiously bustling to be really enjoyable, aside from being revolted at the fried stinky beancurd (釀豆腐卜 'yong dou fu pok'), which is utterly delicious! So this is NOT a good place to bring John from the Kansas office, even though the food is good. He'll look around and realize that either he's not the centre of attention (soul-crushing for the average buffalo in any exotic environment), or he is (discomfiting, especially when he's dropped his chopsticks for the tenth time).
And no one supports his football team!
There are chop houses in Tsimsatsui where he'd be more comfortable.
Take him there instead. Give him some beer and apple pie.
When he goes home, come here to celebrate.
It's home-town rustic, our kind of place.
Simple. But good.
You know, sports, particularly American football, bore me to the point of sickness. Whenever people start talking about such things I lapse into a coma, and desperately change the subject. Which, faced with tons of scrumptious things to eat, is remarkably hard to do.
"Oh please, we must have more flaky-crisp taro dumplings (芋角 'wu gok'), they're absolutely divine! Here, chew on a vegetable!"
Whispered: 'don't pour him anymore tea'!
For the love of g-d, shut him up.
ODD TOPONYMS
To get there, take Route Twisk (荃錦公路 'chuen gam gong lou') from the New Territories Circular Road (新界環迴公路 'saan kai waan wui gong lou') at elephant's trunk road (象鼻山路 'jung bei saan lou') in Tsuen Wan, heading towards "big hat mountain country park" (大帽山郊野公園 'daai mou saan gau ye gong yuen').
Take the right fork at Fu Yung Shan Road (芙蓉山路).
It's a bit of a drive (three and a half miles uphill), but extremely scenic.
During the day the public light bus (green top) is an also-can.
The road is twisty-wisty, the embankments steep.
Tall feathery trees, banana leaves, ferns.
Stands of bamboo, phoenix trees.
Banyan and ban-hoi maple.
黃槿 ('wong gan').
Acacia.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Best get there early. No, don't eat breakfast before you set off. But do have coffee; the road is winding, and you will need to be alert.
You're on a hillside in Tsuen Wan.
It's still dark.
淺灣、賊灣、荃灣。
CHIN WAAN, CHAAK WAAN, CHUEN WAAN.
[Shallows bay, Robber bay, Fragrance bay.]
Along the shore there used to be small settlements, and, during the early years of the colony, pirates hid out along the coast. It was all behind the back of beyond then, and not a desirable place. Far from everything. The area is all built-up now, as is Tsing Yi Island (青衣島 Green Robe Island; 'cheng yi dou') across the strait, where "spring flowers fall" (春花落 'chuen faa lok'). Like all of Hong Kong, both Tsuen Wan and Tsing Yi are densely populated and very busy places. Which is why a tea house, on a two lane road in the hills above the city that wriggles and twists, sounds like the perfect place to be when it isn't raining. It would also be ideal during a heavy storm, but transit is more daunting.
Especially before breakfast.
彩龍酒樓
CHOI LUNG RESTAURANT
荃灣，荃錦公路，川龍村，2號。
Located on the fragrant brocade highway in creek dragon village. Their shrimp bonnets (蝦餃 'haa gau') are delicious, so are the spring rolls (春捲 'chuen kuen'), barbecue pork sheet noodles (叉燒腸粉 'chaa siu cheung fan'), quail egg dumplings (鵪鶉蛋燒賣 'am-suen daan siu-maai') which have a beautiful thin skin that crinkles around the filling, phoenix claws (鳳爪 'fung jaau'), deep-fried pork and veggie puff balls (鹹水角 'haam suei gok') and glutinous rice chicken (糯米雞 'no mai gai') which naturally comes steamed in a lotus leaf.
Something which almost every table will also get it is choisum (菜心) with black bean sauce, or briefly stir-fried watercress (西洋菜 'sai yeung choi'). Very good! Hou sik!
They also do fresh soy milk (凍豆漿 'tung dou jeung'), which is not something that particularly tickles my fancy. Frankly, I've always been leery of people who drink it.
On a sunny day you can see forever (well, with topographic limitations) from the upper storey. Green green hills, the hue of vert emeraude.
Grey-blue ridges further away, green robe island far off.
It's an old-fashioned tea house (古式嘅茶居 'gu sik ge chaa keui') by local standards, and consequently well worth it. If you've done your job properly, there will be spattered cups and bowls and saucers and plates and pots littering the table by the time you're finished, you'll be grabbing for a toothpick and belching happily, and wired to the gills on tea.
Go on; have just a little more.
There's always room for tofu pudding (豆腐花 'dou fu faa')...
They make it here with fresh mountain spring water (山水 'saan seui').
AND JOHN FROM KANSAS!
Please note that fastidious western tourists may find it chaotic, and too rambunctiously bustling to be really enjoyable, aside from being revolted at the fried stinky beancurd (釀豆腐卜 'yong dou fu pok'), which is utterly delicious! So this is NOT a good place to bring John from the Kansas office, even though the food is good. He'll look around and realize that either he's not the centre of attention (soul-crushing for the average buffalo in any exotic environment), or he is (discomfiting, especially when he's dropped his chopsticks for the tenth time).
And no one supports his football team!
There are chop houses in Tsimsatsui where he'd be more comfortable.
Take him there instead. Give him some beer and apple pie.
When he goes home, come here to celebrate.
It's home-town rustic, our kind of place.
Simple. But good.
You know, sports, particularly American football, bore me to the point of sickness. Whenever people start talking about such things I lapse into a coma, and desperately change the subject. Which, faced with tons of scrumptious things to eat, is remarkably hard to do.
"Oh please, we must have more flaky-crisp taro dumplings (芋角 'wu gok'), they're absolutely divine! Here, chew on a vegetable!"
Whispered: 'don't pour him anymore tea'!
For the love of g-d, shut him up.
ODD TOPONYMS
To get there, take Route Twisk (荃錦公路 'chuen gam gong lou') from the New Territories Circular Road (新界環迴公路 'saan kai waan wui gong lou') at elephant's trunk road (象鼻山路 'jung bei saan lou') in Tsuen Wan, heading towards "big hat mountain country park" (大帽山郊野公園 'daai mou saan gau ye gong yuen').
Take the right fork at Fu Yung Shan Road (芙蓉山路).
It's a bit of a drive (three and a half miles uphill), but extremely scenic.
During the day the public light bus (green top) is an also-can.
The road is twisty-wisty, the embankments steep.
Tall feathery trees, banana leaves, ferns.
Stands of bamboo, phoenix trees.
Banyan and ban-hoi maple.
黃槿 ('wong gan').
Acacia.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, January 12, 2014
MAKING CHEUNG FAN
Cheung fan (腸粉) are soft fresh sheets of rice flour batter steamed till set with a little filling - shrimp, beef, pork, or whatever - then folded over, drizzled with a soy sauce, and minced scallion on top to garnish.
Usually they are slashed or cut when served, to allow any condiments you add to penetrate, and for ease of chopsticking.
In commercial establishments, a wet sheet of cloth is tightly stretched over a rectangular steamer, then rice flour batter is ladled on and smeared flat, a little bit of filling material is strewn over one side, and within mere moments the cloth is lifted with the now cooked noodle sheet on it, and another cloth put in place. Meanwhile a deft hand with a spatula separates the cheung fan, dexterously jiggling it into a loosely folded wedge or roll.
At home you do not have a large rectangular vat of fiercely boiling water with a perforated metal plate on top.
But you have a steamer.
So what you can do is use pie pans instead of taught wetted cloth, either lightly oiled or with a little Pam sprayed on. The steaming time is a little longer, because your cheung fan will be thicker. And instead of nice sharp-edged rectangular rolls, yours will be a little thicker around the middle.
Salad plates in lieu of pie pans will also do - the result will be cute little cheung fan which are quite suitable as a mid-day snack.
CHEUNG FAN: BATTER
One cup plain rice flour.
Quarter cup tapioca flour.
Two TBS cornstarch.
Two TBS oil.
Half a teaspoon salt.
Cold water.
Sift dry ingredients together. Slowly stir water into it, add the oil, and keep adding more water while stirring till you have a batter that looks like heavy cream - approximately 1¾ to 2¼ cups water in all. Let it stand an hour, re-stir.
It is now ready for use.
Grease a pie pan, ladle in enough batter to thinly cover the bottom, and place in the steamer. After about a minute to a minute and a half, add the filling along one side. Steam for another four to six minutes, depending on how thick your layers are. Remove the pie pan from the steamer, and prepare a second pan while the first one cools.
As soon as you have added a filling to the second cheung fan, separate the first one from its pan with a flexible spatula, rolling as you go. Proceed in this manner till all the batter is used up. There should be about eight or nine cheung fan stacked on the plate when you're done. Drizzle a little sesame oil over for fragrance, slash into segments to show the filling, and garnish with minced scallion.
CHEUNG FAN: FILLING
You can us thin slivers of of beef (remember to rinse a bit, or soak in a little rice wine briefly to remove that charnel-house fragrance that adheres to the meat), or very fresh shrimp, peeled and veined, or even minced fresh cilantro, which will lend a soft fruity-herby-floral tone to the noodly sheets.
Chopped char-siu or rehumidified dry shrimp are also common.
炒粿條
If you make the cheung fan without any filling, they can be sliced into broad strips and served with ripped roast chicken and vegetables, or stirfried in pork fat with oysters and shrimp, like kway teow. Add some beansprouts (芽菜 ngaa choi、豆芽 dau ngaa) and scallion or chives, plus a drizzle of soy sauce, and serve with sambal on the side.
NOTE: this is a "reprint" of a recipe from two years ago, in this post:
LEFT-OVER TURKEY: CHEUNG FAN, RICE FLOUR NOODLES IN SOUP, AND JOOK.
Some people asked for it.
So here it is.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Usually they are slashed or cut when served, to allow any condiments you add to penetrate, and for ease of chopsticking.
In commercial establishments, a wet sheet of cloth is tightly stretched over a rectangular steamer, then rice flour batter is ladled on and smeared flat, a little bit of filling material is strewn over one side, and within mere moments the cloth is lifted with the now cooked noodle sheet on it, and another cloth put in place. Meanwhile a deft hand with a spatula separates the cheung fan, dexterously jiggling it into a loosely folded wedge or roll.
At home you do not have a large rectangular vat of fiercely boiling water with a perforated metal plate on top.
But you have a steamer.
So what you can do is use pie pans instead of taught wetted cloth, either lightly oiled or with a little Pam sprayed on. The steaming time is a little longer, because your cheung fan will be thicker. And instead of nice sharp-edged rectangular rolls, yours will be a little thicker around the middle.
Salad plates in lieu of pie pans will also do - the result will be cute little cheung fan which are quite suitable as a mid-day snack.
CHEUNG FAN: BATTER
One cup plain rice flour.
Quarter cup tapioca flour.
Two TBS cornstarch.
Two TBS oil.
Half a teaspoon salt.
Cold water.
Sift dry ingredients together. Slowly stir water into it, add the oil, and keep adding more water while stirring till you have a batter that looks like heavy cream - approximately 1¾ to 2¼ cups water in all. Let it stand an hour, re-stir.
It is now ready for use.
Grease a pie pan, ladle in enough batter to thinly cover the bottom, and place in the steamer. After about a minute to a minute and a half, add the filling along one side. Steam for another four to six minutes, depending on how thick your layers are. Remove the pie pan from the steamer, and prepare a second pan while the first one cools.
As soon as you have added a filling to the second cheung fan, separate the first one from its pan with a flexible spatula, rolling as you go. Proceed in this manner till all the batter is used up. There should be about eight or nine cheung fan stacked on the plate when you're done. Drizzle a little sesame oil over for fragrance, slash into segments to show the filling, and garnish with minced scallion.
CHEUNG FAN: FILLING
You can us thin slivers of of beef (remember to rinse a bit, or soak in a little rice wine briefly to remove that charnel-house fragrance that adheres to the meat), or very fresh shrimp, peeled and veined, or even minced fresh cilantro, which will lend a soft fruity-herby-floral tone to the noodly sheets.
Chopped char-siu or rehumidified dry shrimp are also common.
炒粿條
If you make the cheung fan without any filling, they can be sliced into broad strips and served with ripped roast chicken and vegetables, or stirfried in pork fat with oysters and shrimp, like kway teow. Add some beansprouts (芽菜 ngaa choi、豆芽 dau ngaa) and scallion or chives, plus a drizzle of soy sauce, and serve with sambal on the side.
NOTE: this is a "reprint" of a recipe from two years ago, in this post:
LEFT-OVER TURKEY: CHEUNG FAN, RICE FLOUR NOODLES IN SOUP, AND JOOK.
Some people asked for it.
So here it is.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
IT USED TO HAVE A DIFFERENT NAME!
The warning signs are all there: desperate female buskers with flyers and menus trying to drag you in off the street, a menu entirely in English, loads of confused German and Italian tourists, dimsum in the EVENING, décor that screams "kitsch", and prices far more suited to a snooty French restaurant out in Bumpattyville, the suburbs.
Maybe Modesto or Vacaville.
Not Chinatown.
Nah, I am not going to name the restaurant.
Primarily because I don't want to get sued.
The Chinese name still attached to the building from many years ago states 'New Apricot Perfume', and there's an advert for roast suckling pig.
Which dates back to the sixties; they haven't done that in ages.
Again, I will not mention what it's called in English. Readers with half an ounce of common sense, even if they are monolingual, will internalize the omens and flee before the food comes.
If they ever set foot inside.
However, reading about it on a popular rating site for disgruntled diners provided a deserved hoot.
I present quotes below, veritable paeans of dispraise.
GOT RIPPED OFF, FELT VIOLATED
Worst restaurant I have probably eaten at.
We were told they were out of spoons.
This place needs to be shut down.
This turned out to be a bad experiment.
Everything was covered in grease.
I was born yesterday.
Tasted like bathwater & old chicken.
I am a Chinese and eat dim a lot.
Our server seemed hostile!
Not worth the emotional effort.
And the food was terrible!
It's an abomination.
The food was underwhelming.
How unfortunate for this.
Completely awful.
Disgusting & overpriced.
It was really dry, too.
I ended up sick.
Etc.
You will kindly note that I have grouped these quotes in sets, as if a perverse form of poetry. Which they actually are. These are inspired folks writing from the heart. Or the bowels.
All of the descriptions make it seem like a fascinating place for dinner.
And I couldn't help noticing that very many of the furious customers were, in fact, in a position to know better.
They were Chinese.
I hate to admit it, but I am tempted to send some people I know there.
Just for fun.
Maybe I should eat there first.
So as to be entirely fair.
At least sporting.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Maybe Modesto or Vacaville.
Not Chinatown.
Nah, I am not going to name the restaurant.
Primarily because I don't want to get sued.
The Chinese name still attached to the building from many years ago states 'New Apricot Perfume', and there's an advert for roast suckling pig.
Which dates back to the sixties; they haven't done that in ages.
Again, I will not mention what it's called in English. Readers with half an ounce of common sense, even if they are monolingual, will internalize the omens and flee before the food comes.
If they ever set foot inside.
However, reading about it on a popular rating site for disgruntled diners provided a deserved hoot.
I present quotes below, veritable paeans of dispraise.
GOT RIPPED OFF, FELT VIOLATED
Worst restaurant I have probably eaten at.
We were told they were out of spoons.
This place needs to be shut down.
This turned out to be a bad experiment.
Everything was covered in grease.
I was born yesterday.
Tasted like bathwater & old chicken.
I am a Chinese and eat dim a lot.
Our server seemed hostile!
Not worth the emotional effort.
And the food was terrible!
It's an abomination.
The food was underwhelming.
How unfortunate for this.
Completely awful.
Disgusting & overpriced.
It was really dry, too.
I ended up sick.
Etc.
You will kindly note that I have grouped these quotes in sets, as if a perverse form of poetry. Which they actually are. These are inspired folks writing from the heart. Or the bowels.
All of the descriptions make it seem like a fascinating place for dinner.
And I couldn't help noticing that very many of the furious customers were, in fact, in a position to know better.
They were Chinese.
I hate to admit it, but I am tempted to send some people I know there.
Just for fun.
Maybe I should eat there first.
So as to be entirely fair.
At least sporting.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, December 15, 2013
SINGLE WHITE MALE AND GREAT BUNS IN CHINATOWN
Late in the day the single male desires something to eat. So, of course, does the single female. Except that unlike the single male, the single female probably gravitates toward a place that sells salad with low sodium zero fat sawdust croutons.
Really I cannot praise those low sodium zero fat sawdust croutons enough. They are a profound blessing. Naturally wilted green stuff, low sodium zero fat sawdust croutons, and some tasty toasted tofu.
The single male prefers food that comforts. And is nice to eat.
Over good karma dietary benefits and crap.
Give me something yummy.
I've never seen such enormous buns before. The counterwoman, whom I recognized from somewhere else last year, explained that they had chicken meat, egg, mushroom, and lapcheung inside.
So I bought one. It was very cheap.
Probably the most affordable lunch in Chinatown.
好旺利
732 Jackson Street
San Francisco, CA 94133
(415) 986-3759
They've not been open very long, possibly about ten or twelve months now. The place that was there before (容記糕粉 'yong kee kou fun') closed down sometime in 2012. It had been around for several decades, but I guess the current generation of the family didn't want to continue. That happens a lot. The first two or three generations work their fingers raw in Chinatown, then the family prospers and goes to college, and it becomes counterproductive to work long hours at miserably low pay when with a medical or engineering degree you can do so very much more with your life.
Things change.
Sad.
Still, someone has to keep feeding the locals.
Especially all the single white males who love big buns.
The buns are steamed and pillowy, the filling consists of chopped spiced chicken meat, with a peeled whole hardboiled egg (煮蛋 'jiu daan'), one or two whole black mushroom (香菇 'heung gu'), and a thick slice of Chinese sausage (臘腸 'laap cheung') to add its fragrance.
I don't know what they call it, but asking for 大蒸飽 ('daai jeng baau': big steamed bun), or alternatively 大雞飽 ('daai gai baau': big chicken bun) should get you what you want. It might also be called a 雞球大包 ('gai kau daai baau': chicken chunks big bun).
It's a known quantity in both C'town and Hongkong.
Hardly a dimsum item, due to size.
More of a meal.
There's no place to sit down, so buy one for take-out, with a cup of Hongkong-style milk-tea (港式奶茶 'gong-sik naai-chaa'), and find somewhere quiet to stuff your face.
They also have lots of other food. No, I haven't tried it, but it all looks clean and fresh and promising. Those big beautiful buns, however, particularly caught my hungry eye.
I am a single white male.
I cannot help it.
Scallion bread, egg tarts, potstickers, chindeui, coconut muffins, ham and corn salad buns, siu mai, har gow, red bean pastries, malai gou, taro dumplings, haahm sui gok, crunchy fried shrimp balls, lowmai bao, charsiu kuen, steamed rice sheet .......
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Really I cannot praise those low sodium zero fat sawdust croutons enough. They are a profound blessing. Naturally wilted green stuff, low sodium zero fat sawdust croutons, and some tasty toasted tofu.
The single male prefers food that comforts. And is nice to eat.
Over good karma dietary benefits and crap.
Give me something yummy.
I've never seen such enormous buns before. The counterwoman, whom I recognized from somewhere else last year, explained that they had chicken meat, egg, mushroom, and lapcheung inside.
So I bought one. It was very cheap.
Probably the most affordable lunch in Chinatown.
好旺利
732 Jackson Street
San Francisco, CA 94133
(415) 986-3759
They've not been open very long, possibly about ten or twelve months now. The place that was there before (容記糕粉 'yong kee kou fun') closed down sometime in 2012. It had been around for several decades, but I guess the current generation of the family didn't want to continue. That happens a lot. The first two or three generations work their fingers raw in Chinatown, then the family prospers and goes to college, and it becomes counterproductive to work long hours at miserably low pay when with a medical or engineering degree you can do so very much more with your life.
Things change.
Sad.
Still, someone has to keep feeding the locals.
Especially all the single white males who love big buns.
The buns are steamed and pillowy, the filling consists of chopped spiced chicken meat, with a peeled whole hardboiled egg (煮蛋 'jiu daan'), one or two whole black mushroom (香菇 'heung gu'), and a thick slice of Chinese sausage (臘腸 'laap cheung') to add its fragrance.
I don't know what they call it, but asking for 大蒸飽 ('daai jeng baau': big steamed bun), or alternatively 大雞飽 ('daai gai baau': big chicken bun) should get you what you want. It might also be called a 雞球大包 ('gai kau daai baau': chicken chunks big bun).
It's a known quantity in both C'town and Hongkong.
Hardly a dimsum item, due to size.
More of a meal.
There's no place to sit down, so buy one for take-out, with a cup of Hongkong-style milk-tea (港式奶茶 'gong-sik naai-chaa'), and find somewhere quiet to stuff your face.
They also have lots of other food. No, I haven't tried it, but it all looks clean and fresh and promising. Those big beautiful buns, however, particularly caught my hungry eye.
I am a single white male.
I cannot help it.
Scallion bread, egg tarts, potstickers, chindeui, coconut muffins, ham and corn salad buns, siu mai, har gow, red bean pastries, malai gou, taro dumplings, haahm sui gok, crunchy fried shrimp balls, lowmai bao, charsiu kuen, steamed rice sheet .......
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Thursday, June 20, 2013
BACHELOR KIBBLE
Odd that I should crave dimsum at present. I'm not really a morning-eaties person, and tend to avoid solids until far later in the day. Coffee, news, and tobacco have been my breakfast choices for years now. And dimsum is a very social thing besides.
I am not a particularly social person. You may have guessed that.
The idea of multi-faceted interaction does not thrill.
Especially not before I've drunk plenty of coffee.
Just not interpersonal till fully stimulated.
Yet for some reason I've got a yen for shrimp bonnets, pork siu mai, and cheung fan. A loud and crowded environment, lots of cheerful people,
carts with steaming food erupting forth from a kitchen.
Perhaps it's been too long.
When I don't head across the hill to snack in Chinatown, interesting experiments with comestibles ensue. Visit the refrigerator, combine ingredients.
Frozen tilapia steaks, fresh chilipeppers, and squash? Fish stew!
Peanutbutter, avocado, and dill pickle? A refreshing summer sandwich with a pleasing snappy crunch.
Tortilla chips, hot sauce, and peaches? Naturally that's a zesty cocktail dip combo.
There are good reasons most middle-aged men eat alone. Our tastes have become too heterodox for the masses. We've grown up, and our chosen wine with dinner is coffee.
NOTES
There are some things that are always on hand.
Fresh chili peppers. Hot sauce. Achar. Cayenne. Sambal. Bread. Peanut butter. Jam. Milk. Eggs. Dry noodles. Canned tuna. Curry paste. P'titim. Mayonnaise. Kasondi pickle in oil. Black mushrooms. Dried oysters. Fermented fish. Salt-cured meat. Tinned soup. Condensed milk. Coffee, tea, and cacao. Cumin, turmeric, and cardamom.
Something in the way of a vegetable.
It's a smorgasbord.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
The idea of multi-faceted interaction does not thrill.
Especially not before I've drunk plenty of coffee.
Just not interpersonal till fully stimulated.
Yet for some reason I've got a yen for shrimp bonnets, pork siu mai, and cheung fan. A loud and crowded environment, lots of cheerful people,
carts with steaming food erupting forth from a kitchen.
Perhaps it's been too long.
When I don't head across the hill to snack in Chinatown, interesting experiments with comestibles ensue. Visit the refrigerator, combine ingredients.
Frozen tilapia steaks, fresh chilipeppers, and squash? Fish stew!
Peanutbutter, avocado, and dill pickle? A refreshing summer sandwich with a pleasing snappy crunch.
Tortilla chips, hot sauce, and peaches? Naturally that's a zesty cocktail dip combo.
There are good reasons most middle-aged men eat alone. Our tastes have become too heterodox for the masses. We've grown up, and our chosen wine with dinner is coffee.
NOTES
There are some things that are always on hand.
Fresh chili peppers. Hot sauce. Achar. Cayenne. Sambal. Bread. Peanut butter. Jam. Milk. Eggs. Dry noodles. Canned tuna. Curry paste. P'titim. Mayonnaise. Kasondi pickle in oil. Black mushrooms. Dried oysters. Fermented fish. Salt-cured meat. Tinned soup. Condensed milk. Coffee, tea, and cacao. Cumin, turmeric, and cardamom.
Something in the way of a vegetable.
It's a smorgasbord.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Monday, April 15, 2013
BUT IS IT AUTHENTIC? THE DOUBLE-STANDARD
The other day I was stuffing my face with various goodies, when I was conversationally addressed by an elderly woman from upstate New York. She remarked how very unusual it was to hear a white man speaking Cantonese ("just enough to get the food I want, ma'am"), and guessed that the dimsum was pretty authentic. After all, most of the customers were Chinese.
Well, yes.
White people are scared of food.
But what if this was the Kentucky Fried Chicken in Peking?
No one asks whether classic junkfood is "authentic", or ventures the authenticity judgement over a steak place. Even if all the kitchen staff are from Mexico City and its environs, that may be the best darn porterhouse you ever had. The waiter, by the way, is from Jalisco, and the Maitre D' is a Turk.
Chinese restaurants, however, get the eagle-eyed appraisal.
"Is it authentic?"
I can understand that query if the menu contains mostly white folks Chinese food, like sweet and sour pork with pineapple and ketchup, shrimp fried rice (with ham, egg, carrots, and peas), brown rice, multiple kung pao objects, and absolutely anything Hunanese.
Hunanese food in the United States is often a code-phrase that means "Hi, we're Cantonese, and remarkably we can't cook worth crap, so we're calling ourselves something else.... Italian was already taken".
Same goes for palatial places serving the finest Peking food.
Szechuanese is marginally better.
But if a restaurant is staffed by Cantonese, there's a very good chance that something there is 'authentic'. Even if only to feed the weary traveler from HK, desperate for any thing that isn't deep-fried and drenched with sweet Caucasian gloop.
White people often think that if the decor is pretty nice, then the food in a Chinese restaurant cannot be any good. Or, if there are only white people eating there, it isn't "real Chinese food".
This is a somewhat simplistic approach.
Not all cheap greasy joints are authentic. Some still cater mostly to white people, but the locals who actually get food there do not order the same things. And a really nicely appointed restaurant may also take pride in the talent of the kitchen and the professionalism of their staff.
The question should not be "is it authentic", but "is it honest". If the food is appetizing, the people who run it are hard-working, and the prices seem appropriate to the selection and the neighborhood, it's authentic. Even if they're running an Italian diner in the outer Richmond.
Other than baffled white people, the other group that questions authenticity are Chinese who are not (or no longer) 'Chinatown', but more prosperous and acclimatized. Either escapees who have been here long enough, or Taiwanese with a mega chip on their shoulders. And usually very much English speaking, often outsiders. They'll sneer that real dimsum only uses certain ingredients, that the best Chinese cuisine is in Taipei, or that Hong Kong has food so much better that nothing here even compares, and certainly NOT this slop that the C'town dives are dishing up.
Why, this roast duck is only fit for peasants!
Remarkably, that's EXACTLY who is eating it. And enjoying it immensely, too. Real authentic peasants! From somewhere in the authentic peasant hinterlands of Canton province, and I'm guessing that you authentically have relatives like that. Authentessentially.
Their food is also authentic.
The duck is fine.
It might be fake if they cooked Peking seethed fish (軟炸魚).
Or Shanghainese eel with scallions (爆炒鱓絲).
Unless they did a marvelous job.
Did you get something you liked?
Did you leave happy?
That's it.
金華點心快餐 KAM WA DIM SAM FAAI CHAN
YUMMY DIM SUM & FAST FOOD, LLC.
930 Stockton Street, between Clay and Washington.
San Francisco, CA 94108.
This place does dimsummy things, nothing fancy, and a few bakery items. Most of their customers either come for lunch or wander in for a quick snack. They also do two types of rice porridge -- yu pin juk (魚片粥 fish curls congee) and pei dan sau yiuk juk (皮蛋瘦肉粥 preserved egg and lean pork congee) -- plus decent yau tiu (油條 deep-fried puff-dough stick). But the main draw is the selection of cheap filling lunch items, three over rice for a very low price. Frequently they are stressed out. Especially by Germans and Midwesterners who come in, look at everything, ask incomprehensible questions, take up time, and leave after buying one soda to split among half a dozen very large white bodies.
富祥點心 FUK CHEUNG DIM SAM
NEW FORTUNE DIM SUM & COFFEE SHOP
815 Stockton Street, between Sacramento and Clay.
San Francisco, CA 94108.
A small hole in the wall run by people who speak Toishanese and hardly anything else. Their chicken buns (雞飽 'gai bau') are a favourite of mine, and I'll often head in for some shrimp bonnets (蝦餃 'haa gau') and open pork dumplings (燒賣 'siu mai'). If they've run out of chicken buns I'll have the choi yuk bau (菜肉飽). Sometimes just a fried sweet sesame ball (煎堆 'jin deui') with a cup of coffee is all I need. Judging by the number of people who come in, know exactly what they want, and leave satisfied, this is the place. Except for white people, who are often confused, and intimidated by a short woman gently asking them what they want.
多好茶室 DO HOU CHAA SAT
DOL HO
808 Pacific Avenue, just up from Stockton.
San Francisco, CA 94133.
A madhouse, with excellent black bean spare ribs and rice (豆豉排骨蒸飯 'dau si pai gwat tsing fan'). Their stuffed eggplant (釀矮瓜 'yeung ngai gwa') is also good, so are their meat balls (牛肉球 'ngau yuk kau'). Some people go here just for the stewed chicken feet (鳳爪 'fung jau'), but you should also have the shrimp-stuffed green bell pepper (蝦膠釀青椒 'haa gau yeung tsing chiu').
I am very very fond of their stuffed tofu skin roll (腐皮捲 'fu pei kuen'), by the way.
You can ask for any of these things, or wait for someone to come barreling out of the kitchen pushing a cart.
Strictly dimsum.
城景 SING KING
CITY VIEW RESTAURANT
662 Commercial Street, between Kearny and Montgomery.
San Francisco, CA 94111.
Good place to take the relatives. Clean, high quality, and pretty darn good. Dimsum. A restaurant for people with whom you feel comfortable, and whom you want to feed. They'll be happy.
幸福餅家 HANG FUK BENG KAA
BLOSSOM BAKERY
133 Waverly Place, between Clay and Washington.
San Francisco, CA 94108.
American coffee, Chinese pastries, and a timeless atmosphere. Local folks come here, including some of the more eccentric, who may not have entirely understood the realities of life. The prices are low, and the selection is not particularly extensive. It's our kind of shop, very home-town. Do not expect too much, but just enjoy it for what it is. Which is a nice place to hang out and day-dream, or listen in on other people gossiping. You might also just read the newspaper, with some milk tea (奶茶 'naai chaa') and a lotus-seed pastry (蓮蓉餅 'lin-yong bing'), a red bean pastry (豆沙餠 'dau sa bing'), or a a wife-cookie (老婆餠 'lo-poh bing'). Relax.
人仁西餅麵包 YAN YAN SAI BENG MIN BAAU
YUMMY BAKERY & CAFÉ
607 Jackson Street, near Kearny.
San Francisco, CA 94133.
A vast selection of Chinese pastries, many somewhat western in inspiration. They do very good stuff here, and they also have coffee, but only three tables. I have listed their entire range in this post: YUMMY. If there's time, sit down and have a snack. Otherwise buy a lot and take it home.
Are these places 'authentic'? Yes, I guess so. I'm happy when I leave, as are the other customers. That's because we know what we want, and have no unrealistic expectations.
It's Chinatown. People live here and eat in the neighborhood.
Prices are reasonable, and the selection suits the locals.
Please don't forget to tip very generously.
More than anything else, that's authentic.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Well, yes.
White people are scared of food.
But what if this was the Kentucky Fried Chicken in Peking?
No one asks whether classic junkfood is "authentic", or ventures the authenticity judgement over a steak place. Even if all the kitchen staff are from Mexico City and its environs, that may be the best darn porterhouse you ever had. The waiter, by the way, is from Jalisco, and the Maitre D' is a Turk.
Chinese restaurants, however, get the eagle-eyed appraisal.
"Is it authentic?"
I can understand that query if the menu contains mostly white folks Chinese food, like sweet and sour pork with pineapple and ketchup, shrimp fried rice (with ham, egg, carrots, and peas), brown rice, multiple kung pao objects, and absolutely anything Hunanese.
Hunanese food in the United States is often a code-phrase that means "Hi, we're Cantonese, and remarkably we can't cook worth crap, so we're calling ourselves something else.... Italian was already taken".
Same goes for palatial places serving the finest Peking food.
Szechuanese is marginally better.
But if a restaurant is staffed by Cantonese, there's a very good chance that something there is 'authentic'. Even if only to feed the weary traveler from HK, desperate for any thing that isn't deep-fried and drenched with sweet Caucasian gloop.
White people often think that if the decor is pretty nice, then the food in a Chinese restaurant cannot be any good. Or, if there are only white people eating there, it isn't "real Chinese food".
This is a somewhat simplistic approach.
Not all cheap greasy joints are authentic. Some still cater mostly to white people, but the locals who actually get food there do not order the same things. And a really nicely appointed restaurant may also take pride in the talent of the kitchen and the professionalism of their staff.
The question should not be "is it authentic", but "is it honest". If the food is appetizing, the people who run it are hard-working, and the prices seem appropriate to the selection and the neighborhood, it's authentic. Even if they're running an Italian diner in the outer Richmond.
Other than baffled white people, the other group that questions authenticity are Chinese who are not (or no longer) 'Chinatown', but more prosperous and acclimatized. Either escapees who have been here long enough, or Taiwanese with a mega chip on their shoulders. And usually very much English speaking, often outsiders. They'll sneer that real dimsum only uses certain ingredients, that the best Chinese cuisine is in Taipei, or that Hong Kong has food so much better that nothing here even compares, and certainly NOT this slop that the C'town dives are dishing up.
Why, this roast duck is only fit for peasants!
Remarkably, that's EXACTLY who is eating it. And enjoying it immensely, too. Real authentic peasants! From somewhere in the authentic peasant hinterlands of Canton province, and I'm guessing that you authentically have relatives like that. Authentessentially.
Their food is also authentic.
The duck is fine.
It might be fake if they cooked Peking seethed fish (軟炸魚).
Or Shanghainese eel with scallions (爆炒鱓絲).
Unless they did a marvelous job.
Did you get something you liked?
Did you leave happy?
That's it.
金華點心快餐 KAM WA DIM SAM FAAI CHAN
YUMMY DIM SUM & FAST FOOD, LLC.
930 Stockton Street, between Clay and Washington.
San Francisco, CA 94108.
This place does dimsummy things, nothing fancy, and a few bakery items. Most of their customers either come for lunch or wander in for a quick snack. They also do two types of rice porridge -- yu pin juk (魚片粥 fish curls congee) and pei dan sau yiuk juk (皮蛋瘦肉粥 preserved egg and lean pork congee) -- plus decent yau tiu (油條 deep-fried puff-dough stick). But the main draw is the selection of cheap filling lunch items, three over rice for a very low price. Frequently they are stressed out. Especially by Germans and Midwesterners who come in, look at everything, ask incomprehensible questions, take up time, and leave after buying one soda to split among half a dozen very large white bodies.
富祥點心 FUK CHEUNG DIM SAM
NEW FORTUNE DIM SUM & COFFEE SHOP
815 Stockton Street, between Sacramento and Clay.
San Francisco, CA 94108.
A small hole in the wall run by people who speak Toishanese and hardly anything else. Their chicken buns (雞飽 'gai bau') are a favourite of mine, and I'll often head in for some shrimp bonnets (蝦餃 'haa gau') and open pork dumplings (燒賣 'siu mai'). If they've run out of chicken buns I'll have the choi yuk bau (菜肉飽). Sometimes just a fried sweet sesame ball (煎堆 'jin deui') with a cup of coffee is all I need. Judging by the number of people who come in, know exactly what they want, and leave satisfied, this is the place. Except for white people, who are often confused, and intimidated by a short woman gently asking them what they want.
多好茶室 DO HOU CHAA SAT
DOL HO
808 Pacific Avenue, just up from Stockton.
San Francisco, CA 94133.
A madhouse, with excellent black bean spare ribs and rice (豆豉排骨蒸飯 'dau si pai gwat tsing fan'). Their stuffed eggplant (釀矮瓜 'yeung ngai gwa') is also good, so are their meat balls (牛肉球 'ngau yuk kau'). Some people go here just for the stewed chicken feet (鳳爪 'fung jau'), but you should also have the shrimp-stuffed green bell pepper (蝦膠釀青椒 'haa gau yeung tsing chiu').
I am very very fond of their stuffed tofu skin roll (腐皮捲 'fu pei kuen'), by the way.
You can ask for any of these things, or wait for someone to come barreling out of the kitchen pushing a cart.
Strictly dimsum.
城景 SING KING
CITY VIEW RESTAURANT
662 Commercial Street, between Kearny and Montgomery.
San Francisco, CA 94111.
Good place to take the relatives. Clean, high quality, and pretty darn good. Dimsum. A restaurant for people with whom you feel comfortable, and whom you want to feed. They'll be happy.
幸福餅家 HANG FUK BENG KAA
BLOSSOM BAKERY
133 Waverly Place, between Clay and Washington.
San Francisco, CA 94108.
American coffee, Chinese pastries, and a timeless atmosphere. Local folks come here, including some of the more eccentric, who may not have entirely understood the realities of life. The prices are low, and the selection is not particularly extensive. It's our kind of shop, very home-town. Do not expect too much, but just enjoy it for what it is. Which is a nice place to hang out and day-dream, or listen in on other people gossiping. You might also just read the newspaper, with some milk tea (奶茶 'naai chaa') and a lotus-seed pastry (蓮蓉餅 'lin-yong bing'), a red bean pastry (豆沙餠 'dau sa bing'), or a a wife-cookie (老婆餠 'lo-poh bing'). Relax.
人仁西餅麵包 YAN YAN SAI BENG MIN BAAU
YUMMY BAKERY & CAFÉ
607 Jackson Street, near Kearny.
San Francisco, CA 94133.
A vast selection of Chinese pastries, many somewhat western in inspiration. They do very good stuff here, and they also have coffee, but only three tables. I have listed their entire range in this post: YUMMY. If there's time, sit down and have a snack. Otherwise buy a lot and take it home.
Are these places 'authentic'? Yes, I guess so. I'm happy when I leave, as are the other customers. That's because we know what we want, and have no unrealistic expectations.
It's Chinatown. People live here and eat in the neighborhood.
Prices are reasonable, and the selection suits the locals.
Please don't forget to tip very generously.
More than anything else, that's authentic.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Tuesday, August 07, 2012
WHAT IS DIM SUM?
While heading down Jackson Street the other day I overheard a woman asking her companion "what is dim sum?" She was staring at Dick Lee's, which promises the very best dim sum a tourist could ever wish for.
I felt like answering her question, but didn't do so.
Life is too short for random education.
Dim sum is a way of waking up. Dim sum is an attitude and a way of life. Dim sum is what you do when there are several of you with different tastes and body humours. Dim sum is snack, tea, conversation, and entertainment.
WHAT'S FOR BREAKFAST?
Dim sum is a selection of tasty things, mostly savoury, and easy on the digestion, served in a frenetic atmosphere where everyone is getting whacked on tea. An endless parade of carts go past, with offerings that look yummy and enchanting. Frantic gesticulation greets the servers, and people from two or three tables away might even plaintively cry "leave some for me!"
They fear that the cart will be empty by the time it reaches them.
It has been so long, so very long, since they've eaten!
Despite the abundant evidence on their table.
"Oh please leave some for me!"
Dim sum is retired gentlemen bringing their pet birds in elaborate cages to an upstairs restaurant at early morning near Flower Market Road. The birds are hung from rods that span the space above the tables, and while snacking and swilling tea the elderly gentlemen will compare prize specimens, admire plumage, and encourage their pets to preen and vocalize.
Dim sum is a rangy looking fellow with one foot hurked up on his chair reading today's edition of The Star, while abstractedly reaching out with his chopsticks for the chilipepper and fermented bean-paste pork balls.
Dim sum is Cantonese people trying to explain in English what these things are to native speakers of Hokkien, while everyone else is thinking " oh just have some, and then you will know".
Dim sum is several elderly aunties giddy on life, yummy snackipoos, bucket after bucket of Pu-Erh and Chrysanthemum tea, and the sheer wonderful liberating absence of their husbands for several hours, my heavens you never saw such happy girls!
Dim sum is children stabbing each other under the table with their chopsticks after the eating has slowed down, while their elders are deep in conversation over the last of the siu mai and hargau, not noticing what the little brats are up to.
WHAT IS DIM SUM?
Dim sum is a messy crowded place with wonderful snackie things, and little pastries, and plates of spare ribs, and comforting sheet noodle, and perhaps a bowl of jook.
Dim sum is what you eat when you don't want to deal with serious German ladies visiting San Francisco for the first time, who are dressed for all the world like street people, and cannot have meat, gluten, or peanuts.
Dim sum is what you had before heading down to Hotaling Alley to enjoy a quiet smoke by yourself, dreaming of what might be, and observing birds and the occasional pedestrian through fragrant whisps of tobacco.
Essex Brown Flake in a Hardcastle bent bulldog.
Dim sum is delicious.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
I felt like answering her question, but didn't do so.
Life is too short for random education.
Dim sum is a way of waking up. Dim sum is an attitude and a way of life. Dim sum is what you do when there are several of you with different tastes and body humours. Dim sum is snack, tea, conversation, and entertainment.
WHAT'S FOR BREAKFAST?
Dim sum is a selection of tasty things, mostly savoury, and easy on the digestion, served in a frenetic atmosphere where everyone is getting whacked on tea. An endless parade of carts go past, with offerings that look yummy and enchanting. Frantic gesticulation greets the servers, and people from two or three tables away might even plaintively cry "leave some for me!"
They fear that the cart will be empty by the time it reaches them.
It has been so long, so very long, since they've eaten!
Despite the abundant evidence on their table.
"Oh please leave some for me!"
Dim sum is retired gentlemen bringing their pet birds in elaborate cages to an upstairs restaurant at early morning near Flower Market Road. The birds are hung from rods that span the space above the tables, and while snacking and swilling tea the elderly gentlemen will compare prize specimens, admire plumage, and encourage their pets to preen and vocalize.
Dim sum is a rangy looking fellow with one foot hurked up on his chair reading today's edition of The Star, while abstractedly reaching out with his chopsticks for the chilipepper and fermented bean-paste pork balls.
Dim sum is Cantonese people trying to explain in English what these things are to native speakers of Hokkien, while everyone else is thinking " oh just have some, and then you will know".
Dim sum is several elderly aunties giddy on life, yummy snackipoos, bucket after bucket of Pu-Erh and Chrysanthemum tea, and the sheer wonderful liberating absence of their husbands for several hours, my heavens you never saw such happy girls!
Dim sum is children stabbing each other under the table with their chopsticks after the eating has slowed down, while their elders are deep in conversation over the last of the siu mai and hargau, not noticing what the little brats are up to.
WHAT IS DIM SUM?
Dim sum is a messy crowded place with wonderful snackie things, and little pastries, and plates of spare ribs, and comforting sheet noodle, and perhaps a bowl of jook.
Dim sum is what you eat when you don't want to deal with serious German ladies visiting San Francisco for the first time, who are dressed for all the world like street people, and cannot have meat, gluten, or peanuts.
Dim sum is what you had before heading down to Hotaling Alley to enjoy a quiet smoke by yourself, dreaming of what might be, and observing birds and the occasional pedestrian through fragrant whisps of tobacco.
Essex Brown Flake in a Hardcastle bent bulldog.
Dim sum is delicious.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Wednesday, April 04, 2012
DIM SUM RESTAURANTS IN SAN FRANCISCO
Pursuant the recent post which listed a huge number of dim sum items in Chinese and English it might be worthwhile to also mention some dim sum places in San Francisco that deserve your attention.
多好茶室 DOL HO
808 Pacific Avenue
San Francisco, CA 94133
415-392-2828
Just up from Stockton Street, opposite 'Great Wall Ginseng and Herbs' (長城參茸海味藥材行).
This place is one of the Chinatown standards, and is known affectionately as ‘the place with lots of old people’, referring to the customers. They are well-known for pots of black bean spareribs and rice. Their dim sum is good. Fastidious out-of-towners will probably not enter.
I’m fond of the place, probably because I thoroughly enjoy both the food and the bare bones ambiance.
Very affordable.
Go here with a friend and the newspaper. After the rush is over you can dawdle a bit.
城景 CITY VIEW RESTAURANT
662 Commercial Street
San Francisco, CA 94111
415-398-2838
Between Kearny and Montgomery Streets, opposite 'New Hong Kong Menu' (旺角偉記), just around the corner from East West Bank (華美銀行), which is in the old headquarters building of Bank of Canton of California (加州廣東銀行), which was subsumed into United Commercial Bank (聯合銀行).
Close enough to the financial district, yet far enough away from where the suburbanites prefer to eat that you won’t be bothered by some ignoramus acting all petulant. Most of the time. But that’s okay, what they won’t eat, you will.
Good food, good prices. Excellent siu mai and lo mai kai.
香雅茶室 (香雅甜品茶室) HANG AH TEAROOM
1 Hang Ah Alley
San Francisco, CA 94108
415-982-5686
Near the YMCA (基督教青年會) on Sacramento Street, down from Stockton.
One of the oldest dim sum places in Chinatown. Famous, but with a somewhat more limited menu than others, and no trolleys.
Many people remember eating there with their family members when they still lived in the neighborhood. It’s very hometown.
It has some classics, and decent charsiu bau.
羊城茶室 YANK SING
49 Stevenson Street
San Francisco, CA 94105
415-541-4949
Opposite no. 1 Ecker Place, in between Market and Mission Street.
Mention this restaurant and many Chinese will squawk up a storm. Too expensive! Hah, the nerve!
And as ‘expensive’ almost automatically means ‘no good’, some will sneer that the food is not what you want, and that they must cater primarily to white people. Which, during the workweek, is somewhat accurate.
Clean, good service, quality, and hence more expensive than most.
On weekends it is filled with Chinese families.
Except for the occasion when I ate at Yank Sing with white people, when they were on Battery Street back in the eighties, I’ve had no bad experiences here. The food is at times out-standing.
Some of the dim sum at Yank Sing you will not find elsewhere in San Francisco.
Pricewise, it's an excellent choice if your company is paying for lunch.
粵凱海鮮大酒樓 CANTON SEAFOOD & DIM SUM HOUSE
655 Folsom Street
San Francisco, CA 94107
415-495-3064
Right across the street from the U. S. Passport Office.
Decent food. They pride themselves on their fish dishes, so it would be worthwhile to go there for dinner. The daytime dim sum selection sometimes leaves something to be desired, but they have all the standard items, and there is plenty of parking nearby. Which is why families pack this place on weekends.
東江飯店 TON KIANG RESTAURANT
5821 Geary Boulevard
San Francisco, CA 94121.
415-752-4440
Between 22nd Avenue and 23rd Avenue; there's a big religious edifice in the next block opposite.
Dim sum till early afternoon, Hakka food after that. Some people bellyache about the prices. The prices are reasonable, so those people should probably go back to Oakland.
It gets crowded.
Yeah, often it seems like white folks central. But there are an awful lot of them living in the vicinity.
鯉魚門海鮮茶寮 KOI PALACE
365 Gellert Boulevard
Daly City, CA 94015
650-992-9000
In a shopping centre with tons of parking, at Hickey Boulevard and the Junipero Serra Freeway.
Delicious. Unfortunately, it's located in Daly City. Which isn't Chinatown.
New spins on some dishes, but many of the old classics, and super chicken feet.
You will not find me eating here often - too many Philippinos and white people.
I can get happy in C'town for far less, without putting up with any part of Daly City.
AFTER WORD
Many people will complain about the service during peak hours at dim sum places. But realistically, what do you expect? Teahouses are jampacked from morning till around noon, then it abruptly peters off. When every seat is occupied the service necessarily isn't top notch.
Some people sneer that if there are lots of white folks eating there the food cannot be good. That is, plainly put, quite illogical. If the place is packed with people scarfing down food, there's something going on that merits your attention.
I'll be the first to admit that a surfeit of Caucasians is suspicious - but in a San Francisco dim sum place?
Have you EVER seen anyone demanding sweet and sour pork or shrimp-fried rice at a teahouse during peak hours? And do you really think that poor-taste people will flock to a joint where the wait staff have neither the time NOR the linguistic talent to explain the specialties?
The ambiance of a popular teahouse is frenzied - customers flock in desperate for tasty snackipoos before the good stuff runs out, "we need to sit down NOW all fifteen of us, oh look there's a cart coming out of the kitchen let us wave at it frantically", plus there are frazzled staff who are brusque and far too busy to engage in a long conversation. Likely there may also be some old geezers reading their newspaper and stubbornly taking up valuable space, as well as a few children running around uncontrolled.
Really, a good dim sum place will be a madhouse for a few hours.
That's why you're there.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
多好茶室 DOL HO
808 Pacific Avenue
San Francisco, CA 94133
415-392-2828
Just up from Stockton Street, opposite 'Great Wall Ginseng and Herbs' (長城參茸海味藥材行).
This place is one of the Chinatown standards, and is known affectionately as ‘the place with lots of old people’, referring to the customers. They are well-known for pots of black bean spareribs and rice. Their dim sum is good. Fastidious out-of-towners will probably not enter.
I’m fond of the place, probably because I thoroughly enjoy both the food and the bare bones ambiance.
Very affordable.
Go here with a friend and the newspaper. After the rush is over you can dawdle a bit.
城景 CITY VIEW RESTAURANT
662 Commercial Street
San Francisco, CA 94111
415-398-2838
Between Kearny and Montgomery Streets, opposite 'New Hong Kong Menu' (旺角偉記), just around the corner from East West Bank (華美銀行), which is in the old headquarters building of Bank of Canton of California (加州廣東銀行), which was subsumed into United Commercial Bank (聯合銀行).
Close enough to the financial district, yet far enough away from where the suburbanites prefer to eat that you won’t be bothered by some ignoramus acting all petulant. Most of the time. But that’s okay, what they won’t eat, you will.
Good food, good prices. Excellent siu mai and lo mai kai.
香雅茶室 (香雅甜品茶室) HANG AH TEAROOM
1 Hang Ah Alley
San Francisco, CA 94108
415-982-5686
Near the YMCA (基督教青年會) on Sacramento Street, down from Stockton.
One of the oldest dim sum places in Chinatown. Famous, but with a somewhat more limited menu than others, and no trolleys.
Many people remember eating there with their family members when they still lived in the neighborhood. It’s very hometown.
It has some classics, and decent charsiu bau.
羊城茶室 YANK SING
49 Stevenson Street
San Francisco, CA 94105
415-541-4949
Opposite no. 1 Ecker Place, in between Market and Mission Street.
Mention this restaurant and many Chinese will squawk up a storm. Too expensive! Hah, the nerve!
And as ‘expensive’ almost automatically means ‘no good’, some will sneer that the food is not what you want, and that they must cater primarily to white people. Which, during the workweek, is somewhat accurate.
Clean, good service, quality, and hence more expensive than most.
On weekends it is filled with Chinese families.
Except for the occasion when I ate at Yank Sing with white people, when they were on Battery Street back in the eighties, I’ve had no bad experiences here. The food is at times out-standing.
Some of the dim sum at Yank Sing you will not find elsewhere in San Francisco.
Pricewise, it's an excellent choice if your company is paying for lunch.
粵凱海鮮大酒樓 CANTON SEAFOOD & DIM SUM HOUSE
655 Folsom Street
San Francisco, CA 94107
415-495-3064
Right across the street from the U. S. Passport Office.
Decent food. They pride themselves on their fish dishes, so it would be worthwhile to go there for dinner. The daytime dim sum selection sometimes leaves something to be desired, but they have all the standard items, and there is plenty of parking nearby. Which is why families pack this place on weekends.
東江飯店 TON KIANG RESTAURANT
5821 Geary Boulevard
San Francisco, CA 94121.
415-752-4440
Between 22nd Avenue and 23rd Avenue; there's a big religious edifice in the next block opposite.
Dim sum till early afternoon, Hakka food after that. Some people bellyache about the prices. The prices are reasonable, so those people should probably go back to Oakland.
It gets crowded.
Yeah, often it seems like white folks central. But there are an awful lot of them living in the vicinity.
鯉魚門海鮮茶寮 KOI PALACE
365 Gellert Boulevard
Daly City, CA 94015
650-992-9000
In a shopping centre with tons of parking, at Hickey Boulevard and the Junipero Serra Freeway.
Delicious. Unfortunately, it's located in Daly City. Which isn't Chinatown.
New spins on some dishes, but many of the old classics, and super chicken feet.
You will not find me eating here often - too many Philippinos and white people.
I can get happy in C'town for far less, without putting up with any part of Daly City.
AFTER WORD
Many people will complain about the service during peak hours at dim sum places. But realistically, what do you expect? Teahouses are jampacked from morning till around noon, then it abruptly peters off. When every seat is occupied the service necessarily isn't top notch.
Some people sneer that if there are lots of white folks eating there the food cannot be good. That is, plainly put, quite illogical. If the place is packed with people scarfing down food, there's something going on that merits your attention.
I'll be the first to admit that a surfeit of Caucasians is suspicious - but in a San Francisco dim sum place?
Have you EVER seen anyone demanding sweet and sour pork or shrimp-fried rice at a teahouse during peak hours? And do you really think that poor-taste people will flock to a joint where the wait staff have neither the time NOR the linguistic talent to explain the specialties?
The ambiance of a popular teahouse is frenzied - customers flock in desperate for tasty snackipoos before the good stuff runs out, "we need to sit down NOW all fifteen of us, oh look there's a cart coming out of the kitchen let us wave at it frantically", plus there are frazzled staff who are brusque and far too busy to engage in a long conversation. Likely there may also be some old geezers reading their newspaper and stubbornly taking up valuable space, as well as a few children running around uncontrolled.
Really, a good dim sum place will be a madhouse for a few hours.
That's why you're there.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
DIM SUM: KINDS, NAMES, PRONUNCIATION, DESCRIPTION
In the past I've described some of the snacks which may be found in Chinatown tea houses. It seems worthwhile to present a fuller list, especially as some people might not realize the variety that can be had.
And now that someone I know is going to be in Hong Kong in another week or two, it is particularly appropriate to provide an overview.
I encourage him to gain several pounds in a city which more than any other counts as 'dim sum central'.
If any other readers also find it useful, so much the better.
Feel free to copy and print it out.
This list is organized more or less in the order that it would occur on a printed menu. Which is usually not how you would run across these items; they're either wheeled around in carts by waitresses exploding out of the kitchen, OR presented in steam trays at small eateries.
And please note that some dishes are listed with several variant names.
點心 DIM SUM
1. 鹹蒸點 (haahm tsing dim)
Steamed savoury dishes
上海小龍飽 (seung hoi siu lung bau): Shanghai-style pork-soup dumplings.
五香糯米卷 (ng heung no mai kuen) five spice meat filled glutinous rice rolls.
四寶滑鷄紮 (sei bou gwat kai ja) four treasure chicken bundle - chicken and vegetables wrapped in beancurd skin.
小籠包 (siu lung bau): Shanghai-style pork-soup dumplings.
柱侯金錢肚 (chyu hou kam chin tou) tripe cooked with chu hou paste (soy, garlic, ginger).
柱候炆牛雜 (chyu hau man ngau jap): stewed beef tripe with turnip and chu hou paste.
棉花雞 (min fa kai): steamed chicken with fish maw.
椒絲牛柏葉 (jiu si ngau bak yip): steamed tripe with ginger and spring onion.
淮山滑雞札 (wai san gwat kai jaat): steamed chicken bundles.
滑雞絲粉卷 (gwat kai si fan kuen): chicken rice roll.
潮州粉果 (chiu chau fan gwo): Chiu Chow steamed dumplings.
潮州蒸粉果 (chiu chau tsing fan gwo): Chiu Chow steamed dumplings.
灌湯餃 (gun tong gau): soup dumplings.
煎鴨絲卷 (tsin ngaap si kuen): fried shredded duck roll.
燒賣 (siu mai): steamed shrimp and pork dumplings.
爽滑捲粉 (song gwat kuen fan) fresh moist folded rice-sheet noodle.
爽滑鮮蝦腸 (sou gwat sin haa cheung) steamed shrimp rice-sheet noodle.
珍寶糯米雞 (tsan pou no mai kai): lotus leaf wrapped glutinous rice and chicken.
珍珠雞 (tsan jyu kai): mini glutinous rice chicken in lotus leaf.
筍尖鮮蝦餃 (sun tsim sin haa gau): shrimp and bamboo tips dumplings.
糯米雞 (no mai kai): lotus leaf wrapped glutinous rice and chicken.
糯米飽 (nuo mai baau): steamed glutinous rice ball with chopped Chinese sausage and mushrooms inside.
腐皮捲 (fu pei kuen): stuffed tofu skin roll.
腐皮海鮮捲 (fu pei hoi sin kuen) beancurd skin seafood roll
腿蓉魚翅餃 (tui yong yu chi gau) minced ham "sharkfin" (ridged) dumpling.
蒜茸蒸魷魚 (suen yong tsing yau yu): steamed squid with garlic.
蒸素粉果 (tsing sou fan gwo): steamed vegetarian dumplings.
蒸蘿蔔糕 (tsing lo bok gou): steamed turnip cake.
薑蔥牛柏葉 (keung tsong ngau bak yip): beef tripe with ginger and scallion.
蘆尖鮮蝦餃 (lou tsim sin haa gau): shrimp and bamboo tips dumplings.
蝦餃 (haa gau): shrimp bonnets.
螢黄燒賣 (ying wong siu mai) pork and crab siu mai
蟹王干蒸燒賣 (hai wong gon tsing siu mai): pork and crab sui mai.
蟹皇鳳眼餃 (hai wong fung ngaan gau) crab roe "phoenix eye" dumpling (top has four vents).
蟹粉小籠包 (hai fan siu lung baau): Shanghai steamed pork and crab meat dumplings
蟹黃蒸燒賣 (hai wong tsing siu mai) pork and crab fat sui mai.
蠔油叉燒飽 (ho yau cha siu bau): steamed charsiu bun flavoured with oyster sauce.
蠔油鮮竹捲 (ho yau sin chuk kuen) oyster sauce meat-stuffed beancurd skin rolls.
豉椒蒸肉排 (si jiu tsing pai gwat): steamed spareribs with black bean sauce.
豉椒蒸鳳爪 (si jiu tsing fung jau): steamed chicken feet with black bean sauce.
豉椒金錢肚 (si chiu kam chin tou) chili and blackbean sauce honeycomb tripe.
豉汁蒸排骨 (si jap tsing pai gwat): steamed spareribs with black bean sauce.
豉汁蒸魚雲 (si jap tsing yu wun): steamed fish head with black bean sauce.
豉汁蒸鳳爪 (si jap tsing fung jau): steamed chicken feet with black bean sauce.
金錢肚 (kam chin tou) honeycomb tripe, usually marinated and steamed.
雞扎 (kai chat): steamed beancurd sheet roll with chicken meat.
雞粒魚翅餃 (kai lahp yu chi gau): chicken shark fin dumplings.
雞絲粉卷 (kai si fan kuen): steamed rice flour roll with shredded chicken.
雞飽仔 (kai bau chai): smaller steamed chicken bun.
香茜牛肉丸 (heung sai ngau yiuk yuen): steamed beef meat balls with coriander.
香茜牛肉球 (heung sai ngau yiuk kau): steamed beef meat balls with coriander.
韭菜餃 (gau choi gaau): chive pockets.
鬆化叉燒酥 (song fa cha siu sou): flaky charsiu roll.
魚卵燒賣 (yu lun siu mai) fish roe siu mai.
魚翅餃 (yu chi gau) the so-called sharkfin dumpling: a large steamed dumpling with a ruffled seam on top that looks like a shark fin rippling through the water.
鮮竹卷 (sin chuk kuen): meat-filled steamed beancurd skin roll.
鮮竹捲 (sin chuk kuen) meat-filled steamed beancurd skin roll.
鮮竹蒸石斑魚球 (sin chuk tsing sek pan yu kau): steamed fish balls.
鮮蝦帶子餃 (sin haa tai ji gau): scallop and shrimp dumplings.
鮮蝦蒸粉粿 (sin haa tsing fan gwo) fresh shrimp steamed translucent skin dumpling.
鮮蝦韮菜餃 (sin haa gau choi gau): steamed chive dumplings.
鮮蝦魚翅餃 (sin haa yu chi gau) minced shrimp "sharkfin" (ridged) dumpling.
鮮蝦鳳眼餃 (sin haa fung ngaan gau) fresh shrimp "phoenix eye" dumpling (top has four vents).
鳳爪 (fung jau): Chicken feet deep fried for texture, boiled for tenderness, sauced, and steamed.
鴨腳扎 (ngaap keuk kuen): steamed beancurd sheet roll with duck feet.
黑椒金錢肚 (hak chiu kam chin tou) black pepper marinated honeycomb tripe
鼓汁蒸肉排 (si jap tsing yiuk paai): steamed spareribs.
鼓汁蒸鳳爪 (si jap tsing fung jau): steamed chicken feet with black bean sauce.
2. 腸粉 (cheung fan)
Steamed rice-sheet noodle roll
叉燒腸粉 (cha siu cheung fan): steamed rice-sheet noodle with charsiu.
海米腸粉 (hoi mei cheung fan): dry shrimp rice sheet noodle.
滑牛腸粉 (gwat ngau cheung fan): beef rice-sheet noodle.
滑鷄絲粉捲 (gwat kai si fan kuen) shredded chicken folded rice-sheet noodle.
潮州糯米卷 (chiu chau no mai kuen) Teochow style glutinous rice rolls.
牛肉腸粉 (ngau yiuk cheung fan): beef rice-sheet noodle.
蒸帶子腸粉 (tsing daai ji cheung fan): steamed rice-sheet noodle with scallops.
蒸羅漢齋腸粉 (tsing lou hon chai cheung fan): vegetarian rice-sheet noodle
豬腸粉捲 (chu cheung fan kuen) fresh moist folded rice-sheet noodle.
香茜腸粉 (heung sai cheung fan): cilantro steamed rice-sheet noodle.
鮮蝦腸粉 (sin haa cheung fan): fresh shrimps rice-sheet noodle.
3. 飽點 (bau dim)
Steamed buns
北菇雞飽仔 (baak gu kai bau chai): chicken bun with dried mushrooms mixed into the filling.
叉燒飽 (cha siu bau): charsiu bun.
大飽 (taai bau): big steamed bun with varied filling.
奶皇飽 (nai wong bau): steamed custard bun.
糯米卷 (no mai kuen): steamed glutinous rice roll.
菜肉飽 (choi yiuk bau): steamed vegetable and meat bun.
蛋黃蓮蓉飽 (dan wong linyong bau) salted egg yolk lotus seed paste steamed bun
豆蓉飽 (dou yong bau) sweetened bean paste bun.
4. 煎點心 (tsin dim sam)
Panfried dim sum
煎腐皮卷 (tsin fu pei kuen): pan fried bean curd sheet roll.
煎腸粉 (tsin cheung fan): pan fried rice-sheet noodle roll.
煎芋頭糕 (tsin wu tau gou): pan fried taro cake.
煎韮菜餅 (tsin gau choi beng): pan fried chive, pork, and shrimp dumplings.
煎馬蹄糕 (tsin ma tai gou): pan fried water chestnut cake.
煎蘿蔔糕 (tsin lo bok gou): pan fried turnip cake.
生炒糯米飯 (sang chau no mai fan): pan fried sticky rice cake.
生煎菜肉飽 (sang tsin choi yiuk bau): pan fried vegetable and meat bun.
生煎鍋貼 (sang tsin gwo tip): pot stickers (see 'Other items, etcetera 其他').
窩貼 (gwo tip): pot stickers (see 'Other items, etcetera 其他').
腊味蘿蔔糕 (laahp mei lo bok gou): pan fried turnip cake with chopped Chinese sausage.
芙蓉荔竽角 (fu yong lai wo gok): velvety fried taro cake.
香煎菜肉鍋貼 (heung tsin choi yiuk gwo tip): pot stickers (see 'Other items, etcetera 其他').
魚肉釀青椒 (yu yiuk yong tsing jiu): fish mince stuffed bell pepper.
鮮蝦韭菜餅 (sin haa gau choi beng): pan fried chive cake.
5. 炸點心 (ja dim sam)
Deep fried dimsum
春卷 (chun kuen): Spring roll.
春捲 (chun kuen): Spring roll.
椒鹽炸雞翼 (jiu yim ja kai yik): salt and pepper fried chicken wings.
炸芋角 (ja wu gok): deep-fried taro puff.
炸蝦多士 (ja haa to si) shrimp toasts.
炸雲吞 (ja wan tan): deep fried wonton.
炸饅頭 (ja man tou): deep fried plain bread bun.
甜酸炸雲吞 (tim suen ja wan tan): deep fried wonton with sweet and sour sauce.
紙包蝦 (ji bau haa): deep fried paper-wrapped shrimp.
素菜春卷 (so choi chun kuen): vegetarian spring roll.
脆皮炸春卷 (chui pei ja chun kuen): flaky crust spring roll.
芋角 (wu gok): deep fried taro dumplings.
蝦膠釀青椒 (haa gau yeung tsing chiu): green bell pepper pieces stuffed with fresh shrimp mince.
酥炸明蝦丸 (sou ja meng haa yuen): deep fried shrimp ball.
酥炸魷魚鬚 (sou ja yau yu sui): deep fried squid tentacles.
酥炸鯪魚球 (sou ja ling yu kau): deep fried minced carp ball.
釀矮瓜 (yeung ngai gwa): stuffed eggplant.
釀茄子(yeung ke ji): stuffed eggplant.
金錢蝦餅 (kam chin haa beng) gold coin shrimp croquettes.
魷魚鬚 (yau yu sou): battered fried squid tentacles.
鮮蝦炸粉果 (sin haa ja fan gwo): deep fried shrimp dumplings.
鹹水角 (haahm sui gok): deep fried sticky dumplings.
6. 甜點心 (tim dim sam)
Sweet dishes
伊士曼凍糕 (yi si man tung gou): sweet jelly cake
喳咋 (ja ja): mixed sweet bean pudding.
奶黃馬拉卷 (nai wong maa laai kuen): steamed custard roll.
小蛋撻 (siu dan taat): egg tart.
時果凍布甸 (si gwo tung pou deng): mango young coconut pudding.
杏仁豆腐 (hang yan dau fu) almond pudding with fruit salad.
椰汁糕 (yeh jap gou) coconut milk gelatin.
椰汁西米露 (yeh jap sai mai lou) coconut sago milk.
椰汁馬豆糕 (ye jap maa dau gou): coconut milk yellow bean pudding.
涼粉 (leung fan) agar-agar, sweetgelatin.
煎堆 (jin dui): sticky dough balls filled with sweet paste, rolled in sesame seeds, then deep fried.
爽滑涼粉 (song gwat leung fan) grass Jelly.
畔塘馬蹄糕 (pun tong maa tai gou): water chestnut cake.
白糖糕 (pak tong gau) white sugar glutinous rice wedge.
紅豆沙 (hong dau sa): sweet red bean dessert soup.
芒果布甸 (mong gwo pou deng): mango pudding.
芝麻卷 (ji ma kuen) black sesame seed paste gelatin roll.
芝麻糊 (ji ma wu) sweet black sesame seed paste soup.
菠蘿奶王飽 (po lo nai wong bau): custard po-lo bun.
蓮蓉飽 (lin yong bau): steamed bun filled with lotus seed paste.
蕃薯糖水 (faan syu tong sui): sweet potato dessert soup.
蜜瓜西米露 (mat gwa sai mai lou) honeydew melon sago milk.
西米布甸 (sai mai pou deng) sago pudding.
豆沙水晶飽 (dau sa sui tsing bau): steamed sago dumplings with red bean paste.
豆腐花 (dau fu fa): silken tofu dessert.
雪酥雞蛋塔 (suut sou kai dan taat): egg custard tart.
香滑芝麻卷 (heung gwat ji ma kuen) black sesame seed paste roll
馬拉糕 (maa laai gou): Malay cake (sponge cake).
鮮奶杏仁捲 (sin nai hang jan) almond milk gelatine roll.
黄糖糕 (wong tong gou) golden sugar glutinous rice wedge.
綠豆沙 (lok dau sa): sweet mung bean dessert soup.
蓮蓉水晶飽 (fu yong sui tsing bau): steamed sago dumplings with lotus seed paste.
7. 其他 (kei ta)
Other items, etcetera
叉燒酥 (cha siu sou): flaky char siu turnover.
咖喱角 (ka lei gok): baked curry beef turnover.
朱古力瑞士卷 (chyu gu lik sui si kuen): Chocolate Swiss roll made with chocolate in the dough and a whipped cream filling.
潮州粉果 (chiu-chau fan guo): A dumpling containing peanuts, garlic, chives, pork, black mushrooms and dried shrimp, in a thick tang flour skin.
焗叉燒飽 (guk cha siu bau): baked charsiu bun.
牛肉飽 (ngau yiuk bau): beef bun; a popular snack bun made with ground spiced beef filling.
瑞士卷 (sui si kuen): Swiss roll; sheet cake spread with cream and jam, rolled up, and cut in circular slices.
粥 (juk): rice porridge, which is easy on the stomach.
腐皮(fu pei ): tofu skin dried, used to wrap various fillings, then fried and steamed.
腸仔飽 (lahp chai bau): sausage bun; soft dough roll baked with a hot dog inside.
芝麻雞沙律 (ji ma kai sa lut): sesame chicken salad.
菠蘿飽 (po lo bau): so-called pineapple bun. Not flavoured with pineapple, the name refers to the appearance.
豉汁排骨飯 (si jap pai gwat fan): steamed rice with spareribs and black bean sauce.
豉汁鳳爪排骨飯 (si jap fung jau pai gwat fan): steamed rice with spareribs, chicken feet, and black bean sauce.
鍋貼, (gwo tip): Northern Chinese dumpling (jiaozi), first steamed then pan fried. Not really dim sum, but often available at dimsummeries out in the American hinterland.
雞尾飽 (kai mei bau): cocktail bun; sweet dough surrounding a filling of sweetened coconut shreds.
香麻海蜇皮 (heung ma hoi jit pei): marinated jelly fish.
鹹肉粽 (haahm yiuk jung): savoury meat glutinous rice wrapped in bamboo leaf and steamed.
鹼水粽 (gaan sui jung): gam-sui rice dumplings; lye-water treated glutinous rice confection.
麻香拌海蜇 (ma heung pun hoi jit): marinated jelly fish.
蘿蔔絲酥餅 (lo bok si sou beng): turnip shred flaky pastry.
后感 AFTER THOUGHT
The student of Cantonese will, after reading this, no doubt be somewhat frustrated.
Why did I represent the sounds with my own idiosyncratic phoneticization, and why are there no tones?
Simple.
If you tried pronouncing each character correctly and with the right tone, you would sound ridiculously sing-song, and the chances are that no one would understand you anyhow. Thanks to 'tone sandhi' you can run words together somewhat, and more or less ignore the correct tonalism.
Just speak as if you're reciting regulated verse (律詩), alternating oblique and level tones (or level and oblique, as may seem appropriate).
Also, bracket key terms with context, as that will often make perfectly clear what you are saying.
And above all learn how to point - the waitress wheeling around a selection will comprehend that in a flash. She's a trained professional.
Anyway, no one expects a foreigner to speak properly, but they'll be pleased as punch that you enjoy eating the same things.
Oh, and try stuff you've never tasted before.
Always discover something new.
背脊向天，都可以食!
NOTE: updated at 6:45 PM on April 1st, 2012. More stuff, minor edits.
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NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
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And now that someone I know is going to be in Hong Kong in another week or two, it is particularly appropriate to provide an overview.
I encourage him to gain several pounds in a city which more than any other counts as 'dim sum central'.
If any other readers also find it useful, so much the better.
Feel free to copy and print it out.
This list is organized more or less in the order that it would occur on a printed menu. Which is usually not how you would run across these items; they're either wheeled around in carts by waitresses exploding out of the kitchen, OR presented in steam trays at small eateries.
And please note that some dishes are listed with several variant names.
點心 DIM SUM
1. 鹹蒸點 (haahm tsing dim)
Steamed savoury dishes
上海小龍飽 (seung hoi siu lung bau): Shanghai-style pork-soup dumplings.
五香糯米卷 (ng heung no mai kuen) five spice meat filled glutinous rice rolls.
四寶滑鷄紮 (sei bou gwat kai ja) four treasure chicken bundle - chicken and vegetables wrapped in beancurd skin.
小籠包 (siu lung bau): Shanghai-style pork-soup dumplings.
柱侯金錢肚 (chyu hou kam chin tou) tripe cooked with chu hou paste (soy, garlic, ginger).
柱候炆牛雜 (chyu hau man ngau jap): stewed beef tripe with turnip and chu hou paste.
棉花雞 (min fa kai): steamed chicken with fish maw.
椒絲牛柏葉 (jiu si ngau bak yip): steamed tripe with ginger and spring onion.
淮山滑雞札 (wai san gwat kai jaat): steamed chicken bundles.
滑雞絲粉卷 (gwat kai si fan kuen): chicken rice roll.
潮州粉果 (chiu chau fan gwo): Chiu Chow steamed dumplings.
潮州蒸粉果 (chiu chau tsing fan gwo): Chiu Chow steamed dumplings.
灌湯餃 (gun tong gau): soup dumplings.
煎鴨絲卷 (tsin ngaap si kuen): fried shredded duck roll.
燒賣 (siu mai): steamed shrimp and pork dumplings.
爽滑捲粉 (song gwat kuen fan) fresh moist folded rice-sheet noodle.
爽滑鮮蝦腸 (sou gwat sin haa cheung) steamed shrimp rice-sheet noodle.
珍寶糯米雞 (tsan pou no mai kai): lotus leaf wrapped glutinous rice and chicken.
珍珠雞 (tsan jyu kai): mini glutinous rice chicken in lotus leaf.
筍尖鮮蝦餃 (sun tsim sin haa gau): shrimp and bamboo tips dumplings.
糯米雞 (no mai kai): lotus leaf wrapped glutinous rice and chicken.
糯米飽 (nuo mai baau): steamed glutinous rice ball with chopped Chinese sausage and mushrooms inside.
腐皮捲 (fu pei kuen): stuffed tofu skin roll.
腐皮海鮮捲 (fu pei hoi sin kuen) beancurd skin seafood roll
腿蓉魚翅餃 (tui yong yu chi gau) minced ham "sharkfin" (ridged) dumpling.
蒜茸蒸魷魚 (suen yong tsing yau yu): steamed squid with garlic.
蒸素粉果 (tsing sou fan gwo): steamed vegetarian dumplings.
蒸蘿蔔糕 (tsing lo bok gou): steamed turnip cake.
薑蔥牛柏葉 (keung tsong ngau bak yip): beef tripe with ginger and scallion.
蘆尖鮮蝦餃 (lou tsim sin haa gau): shrimp and bamboo tips dumplings.
蝦餃 (haa gau): shrimp bonnets.
螢黄燒賣 (ying wong siu mai) pork and crab siu mai
蟹王干蒸燒賣 (hai wong gon tsing siu mai): pork and crab sui mai.
蟹皇鳳眼餃 (hai wong fung ngaan gau) crab roe "phoenix eye" dumpling (top has four vents).
蟹粉小籠包 (hai fan siu lung baau): Shanghai steamed pork and crab meat dumplings
蟹黃蒸燒賣 (hai wong tsing siu mai) pork and crab fat sui mai.
蠔油叉燒飽 (ho yau cha siu bau): steamed charsiu bun flavoured with oyster sauce.
蠔油鮮竹捲 (ho yau sin chuk kuen) oyster sauce meat-stuffed beancurd skin rolls.
豉椒蒸肉排 (si jiu tsing pai gwat): steamed spareribs with black bean sauce.
豉椒蒸鳳爪 (si jiu tsing fung jau): steamed chicken feet with black bean sauce.
豉椒金錢肚 (si chiu kam chin tou) chili and blackbean sauce honeycomb tripe.
豉汁蒸排骨 (si jap tsing pai gwat): steamed spareribs with black bean sauce.
豉汁蒸魚雲 (si jap tsing yu wun): steamed fish head with black bean sauce.
豉汁蒸鳳爪 (si jap tsing fung jau): steamed chicken feet with black bean sauce.
金錢肚 (kam chin tou) honeycomb tripe, usually marinated and steamed.
雞扎 (kai chat): steamed beancurd sheet roll with chicken meat.
雞粒魚翅餃 (kai lahp yu chi gau): chicken shark fin dumplings.
雞絲粉卷 (kai si fan kuen): steamed rice flour roll with shredded chicken.
雞飽仔 (kai bau chai): smaller steamed chicken bun.
香茜牛肉丸 (heung sai ngau yiuk yuen): steamed beef meat balls with coriander.
香茜牛肉球 (heung sai ngau yiuk kau): steamed beef meat balls with coriander.
韭菜餃 (gau choi gaau): chive pockets.
鬆化叉燒酥 (song fa cha siu sou): flaky charsiu roll.
魚卵燒賣 (yu lun siu mai) fish roe siu mai.
魚翅餃 (yu chi gau) the so-called sharkfin dumpling: a large steamed dumpling with a ruffled seam on top that looks like a shark fin rippling through the water.
鮮竹卷 (sin chuk kuen): meat-filled steamed beancurd skin roll.
鮮竹捲 (sin chuk kuen) meat-filled steamed beancurd skin roll.
鮮竹蒸石斑魚球 (sin chuk tsing sek pan yu kau): steamed fish balls.
鮮蝦帶子餃 (sin haa tai ji gau): scallop and shrimp dumplings.
鮮蝦蒸粉粿 (sin haa tsing fan gwo) fresh shrimp steamed translucent skin dumpling.
鮮蝦韮菜餃 (sin haa gau choi gau): steamed chive dumplings.
鮮蝦魚翅餃 (sin haa yu chi gau) minced shrimp "sharkfin" (ridged) dumpling.
鮮蝦鳳眼餃 (sin haa fung ngaan gau) fresh shrimp "phoenix eye" dumpling (top has four vents).
鳳爪 (fung jau): Chicken feet deep fried for texture, boiled for tenderness, sauced, and steamed.
鴨腳扎 (ngaap keuk kuen): steamed beancurd sheet roll with duck feet.
黑椒金錢肚 (hak chiu kam chin tou) black pepper marinated honeycomb tripe
鼓汁蒸肉排 (si jap tsing yiuk paai): steamed spareribs.
鼓汁蒸鳳爪 (si jap tsing fung jau): steamed chicken feet with black bean sauce.
2. 腸粉 (cheung fan)
Steamed rice-sheet noodle roll
叉燒腸粉 (cha siu cheung fan): steamed rice-sheet noodle with charsiu.
海米腸粉 (hoi mei cheung fan): dry shrimp rice sheet noodle.
滑牛腸粉 (gwat ngau cheung fan): beef rice-sheet noodle.
滑鷄絲粉捲 (gwat kai si fan kuen) shredded chicken folded rice-sheet noodle.
潮州糯米卷 (chiu chau no mai kuen) Teochow style glutinous rice rolls.
牛肉腸粉 (ngau yiuk cheung fan): beef rice-sheet noodle.
蒸帶子腸粉 (tsing daai ji cheung fan): steamed rice-sheet noodle with scallops.
蒸羅漢齋腸粉 (tsing lou hon chai cheung fan): vegetarian rice-sheet noodle
豬腸粉捲 (chu cheung fan kuen) fresh moist folded rice-sheet noodle.
香茜腸粉 (heung sai cheung fan): cilantro steamed rice-sheet noodle.
鮮蝦腸粉 (sin haa cheung fan): fresh shrimps rice-sheet noodle.
3. 飽點 (bau dim)
Steamed buns
北菇雞飽仔 (baak gu kai bau chai): chicken bun with dried mushrooms mixed into the filling.
叉燒飽 (cha siu bau): charsiu bun.
大飽 (taai bau): big steamed bun with varied filling.
奶皇飽 (nai wong bau): steamed custard bun.
糯米卷 (no mai kuen): steamed glutinous rice roll.
菜肉飽 (choi yiuk bau): steamed vegetable and meat bun.
蛋黃蓮蓉飽 (dan wong linyong bau) salted egg yolk lotus seed paste steamed bun
豆蓉飽 (dou yong bau) sweetened bean paste bun.
4. 煎點心 (tsin dim sam)
Panfried dim sum
煎腐皮卷 (tsin fu pei kuen): pan fried bean curd sheet roll.
煎腸粉 (tsin cheung fan): pan fried rice-sheet noodle roll.
煎芋頭糕 (tsin wu tau gou): pan fried taro cake.
煎韮菜餅 (tsin gau choi beng): pan fried chive, pork, and shrimp dumplings.
煎馬蹄糕 (tsin ma tai gou): pan fried water chestnut cake.
煎蘿蔔糕 (tsin lo bok gou): pan fried turnip cake.
生炒糯米飯 (sang chau no mai fan): pan fried sticky rice cake.
生煎菜肉飽 (sang tsin choi yiuk bau): pan fried vegetable and meat bun.
生煎鍋貼 (sang tsin gwo tip): pot stickers (see 'Other items, etcetera 其他').
窩貼 (gwo tip): pot stickers (see 'Other items, etcetera 其他').
腊味蘿蔔糕 (laahp mei lo bok gou): pan fried turnip cake with chopped Chinese sausage.
芙蓉荔竽角 (fu yong lai wo gok): velvety fried taro cake.
香煎菜肉鍋貼 (heung tsin choi yiuk gwo tip): pot stickers (see 'Other items, etcetera 其他').
魚肉釀青椒 (yu yiuk yong tsing jiu): fish mince stuffed bell pepper.
鮮蝦韭菜餅 (sin haa gau choi beng): pan fried chive cake.
5. 炸點心 (ja dim sam)
Deep fried dimsum
春卷 (chun kuen): Spring roll.
春捲 (chun kuen): Spring roll.
椒鹽炸雞翼 (jiu yim ja kai yik): salt and pepper fried chicken wings.
炸芋角 (ja wu gok): deep-fried taro puff.
炸蝦多士 (ja haa to si) shrimp toasts.
炸雲吞 (ja wan tan): deep fried wonton.
炸饅頭 (ja man tou): deep fried plain bread bun.
甜酸炸雲吞 (tim suen ja wan tan): deep fried wonton with sweet and sour sauce.
紙包蝦 (ji bau haa): deep fried paper-wrapped shrimp.
素菜春卷 (so choi chun kuen): vegetarian spring roll.
脆皮炸春卷 (chui pei ja chun kuen): flaky crust spring roll.
芋角 (wu gok): deep fried taro dumplings.
蝦膠釀青椒 (haa gau yeung tsing chiu): green bell pepper pieces stuffed with fresh shrimp mince.
酥炸明蝦丸 (sou ja meng haa yuen): deep fried shrimp ball.
酥炸魷魚鬚 (sou ja yau yu sui): deep fried squid tentacles.
酥炸鯪魚球 (sou ja ling yu kau): deep fried minced carp ball.
釀矮瓜 (yeung ngai gwa): stuffed eggplant.
釀茄子(yeung ke ji): stuffed eggplant.
金錢蝦餅 (kam chin haa beng) gold coin shrimp croquettes.
魷魚鬚 (yau yu sou): battered fried squid tentacles.
鮮蝦炸粉果 (sin haa ja fan gwo): deep fried shrimp dumplings.
鹹水角 (haahm sui gok): deep fried sticky dumplings.
6. 甜點心 (tim dim sam)
Sweet dishes
伊士曼凍糕 (yi si man tung gou): sweet jelly cake
喳咋 (ja ja): mixed sweet bean pudding.
奶黃馬拉卷 (nai wong maa laai kuen): steamed custard roll.
小蛋撻 (siu dan taat): egg tart.
時果凍布甸 (si gwo tung pou deng): mango young coconut pudding.
杏仁豆腐 (hang yan dau fu) almond pudding with fruit salad.
椰汁糕 (yeh jap gou) coconut milk gelatin.
椰汁西米露 (yeh jap sai mai lou) coconut sago milk.
椰汁馬豆糕 (ye jap maa dau gou): coconut milk yellow bean pudding.
涼粉 (leung fan) agar-agar, sweetgelatin.
煎堆 (jin dui): sticky dough balls filled with sweet paste, rolled in sesame seeds, then deep fried.
爽滑涼粉 (song gwat leung fan) grass Jelly.
畔塘馬蹄糕 (pun tong maa tai gou): water chestnut cake.
白糖糕 (pak tong gau) white sugar glutinous rice wedge.
紅豆沙 (hong dau sa): sweet red bean dessert soup.
芒果布甸 (mong gwo pou deng): mango pudding.
芝麻卷 (ji ma kuen) black sesame seed paste gelatin roll.
芝麻糊 (ji ma wu) sweet black sesame seed paste soup.
菠蘿奶王飽 (po lo nai wong bau): custard po-lo bun.
蓮蓉飽 (lin yong bau): steamed bun filled with lotus seed paste.
蕃薯糖水 (faan syu tong sui): sweet potato dessert soup.
蜜瓜西米露 (mat gwa sai mai lou) honeydew melon sago milk.
西米布甸 (sai mai pou deng) sago pudding.
豆沙水晶飽 (dau sa sui tsing bau): steamed sago dumplings with red bean paste.
豆腐花 (dau fu fa): silken tofu dessert.
雪酥雞蛋塔 (suut sou kai dan taat): egg custard tart.
香滑芝麻卷 (heung gwat ji ma kuen) black sesame seed paste roll
馬拉糕 (maa laai gou): Malay cake (sponge cake).
鮮奶杏仁捲 (sin nai hang jan) almond milk gelatine roll.
黄糖糕 (wong tong gou) golden sugar glutinous rice wedge.
綠豆沙 (lok dau sa): sweet mung bean dessert soup.
蓮蓉水晶飽 (fu yong sui tsing bau): steamed sago dumplings with lotus seed paste.
7. 其他 (kei ta)
Other items, etcetera
叉燒酥 (cha siu sou): flaky char siu turnover.
咖喱角 (ka lei gok): baked curry beef turnover.
朱古力瑞士卷 (chyu gu lik sui si kuen): Chocolate Swiss roll made with chocolate in the dough and a whipped cream filling.
潮州粉果 (chiu-chau fan guo): A dumpling containing peanuts, garlic, chives, pork, black mushrooms and dried shrimp, in a thick tang flour skin.
焗叉燒飽 (guk cha siu bau): baked charsiu bun.
牛肉飽 (ngau yiuk bau): beef bun; a popular snack bun made with ground spiced beef filling.
瑞士卷 (sui si kuen): Swiss roll; sheet cake spread with cream and jam, rolled up, and cut in circular slices.
粥 (juk): rice porridge, which is easy on the stomach.
腐皮(fu pei ): tofu skin dried, used to wrap various fillings, then fried and steamed.
腸仔飽 (lahp chai bau): sausage bun; soft dough roll baked with a hot dog inside.
芝麻雞沙律 (ji ma kai sa lut): sesame chicken salad.
菠蘿飽 (po lo bau): so-called pineapple bun. Not flavoured with pineapple, the name refers to the appearance.
豉汁排骨飯 (si jap pai gwat fan): steamed rice with spareribs and black bean sauce.
豉汁鳳爪排骨飯 (si jap fung jau pai gwat fan): steamed rice with spareribs, chicken feet, and black bean sauce.
鍋貼, (gwo tip): Northern Chinese dumpling (jiaozi), first steamed then pan fried. Not really dim sum, but often available at dimsummeries out in the American hinterland.
雞尾飽 (kai mei bau): cocktail bun; sweet dough surrounding a filling of sweetened coconut shreds.
香麻海蜇皮 (heung ma hoi jit pei): marinated jelly fish.
鹹肉粽 (haahm yiuk jung): savoury meat glutinous rice wrapped in bamboo leaf and steamed.
鹼水粽 (gaan sui jung): gam-sui rice dumplings; lye-water treated glutinous rice confection.
麻香拌海蜇 (ma heung pun hoi jit): marinated jelly fish.
蘿蔔絲酥餅 (lo bok si sou beng): turnip shred flaky pastry.
后感 AFTER THOUGHT
The student of Cantonese will, after reading this, no doubt be somewhat frustrated.
Why did I represent the sounds with my own idiosyncratic phoneticization, and why are there no tones?
Simple.
If you tried pronouncing each character correctly and with the right tone, you would sound ridiculously sing-song, and the chances are that no one would understand you anyhow. Thanks to 'tone sandhi' you can run words together somewhat, and more or less ignore the correct tonalism.
Just speak as if you're reciting regulated verse (律詩), alternating oblique and level tones (or level and oblique, as may seem appropriate).
Also, bracket key terms with context, as that will often make perfectly clear what you are saying.
And above all learn how to point - the waitress wheeling around a selection will comprehend that in a flash. She's a trained professional.
Anyway, no one expects a foreigner to speak properly, but they'll be pleased as punch that you enjoy eating the same things.
Oh, and try stuff you've never tasted before.
Always discover something new.
背脊向天，都可以食!
NOTE: updated at 6:45 PM on April 1st, 2012. More stuff, minor edits.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Monday, March 26, 2012
EATING BRIGHT AND LOUD
Shan’t say where it is other than to state that it is in Chinatown, nor will I name it in this post.
Reason being that what I describe might predispose you against going there.
Suffice to say that it is much good. Much much good.
孤膽飲茶
HAVING DIMSUM BY MYSELF
The business has been around for years. I hadn't eaten there in long time, so on a whim I went inside.
Except for a squalling foreign brat and his parents, and a very pretty girl eating lunch with her grand dad, I was the youngest person there.
Which is unusual.
Everyone else was retirement age, and some of them approached the hoary antiquity of the fossil record.
Geezers contentedly chowing down on some excellent dimsum. In between bouts of coughing.
Some of them were absolute masters of the tussive arts. Hack, haaack, hewk!
It was that characteristic joy at esophageal expulsis which many Cantonese oldsters evince that set their symphony apart.
Heart and soul went into their throat sounds. Possibly also bits of lung. Or is that pork mince?
A few, undoubtedly, had been chainsmokers for years. Others were merely reacting to a coating of grease inside their throats after having eaten too many juicy tidbits.
Evidence, one might say, of great pleasure.
The food is that good. Yes.
The tables are wiped regularly, and far enough apart that startling eruptions from other diners should be no cause for alarm. They are, in any case, alive. There's audible proof.
The walls have that old-timey somewhat barebones institutional look, but there's a warmth to the place, and it is comfortable.
The people who run it are decent home-town folks who are proud of what they do.
Their food is pretty darn good.
While I was sitting at my table digesting, swilling down buckets of pu-erh tea, and filling my pipe, one of the local eccentrics came in. At first I thought he was barking (as in 'barking mad'), then I realized that he was actually roaring out a conversation in Cantonese with the owner.
What made it remarkable was that he was quite clearly a big hairy white man.
That makes two Caucasians in the same place who speak Cantonese. What are the chances of that?
Some of the old age pensioners at this point had delighted looks on their faces.
It isn't often that one gets a freak show with lunch.
Time for more happy coughing!
I'll definitely put this eatery in my ambit.
According to the oh so knowledgeable experts on YELP, the restaurant is "a crappy, dirty, smelly Chinese hole", "small, cramped", and "hard to talk to the wait-staff, unless you know Cantonese".
Service is minimal, they say, but I had no cause to complain.
The stuffed eggplant, ha gau, siu mai, and spare ribs are justifiably well regarded.
Likewise the meatballs, homemade hot sauce, and ham sui gok.
Plus the phoenix claws are beautiful.
What I had to accompany my pot of po-nay tsa was mashed shrimp in green bell pepper wedges and a plate of tofu skin rolls filled with meat and waterchestnuts.
Both were exceptionally flavourful and juicy.
The ambiance suits me just fine.
Hrack, cough, hurk.
NOTES:
點心 (dim sam) small dishes enjoyed morning to early afternoon at a tea house. 釀茄子, 釀矮瓜 (yeung ke ji, yeung ngai gwa) stuffed eggplant. 蝦餃 (haa gau) shrimp bonnets. 燒賣 (siu maai) steamed pork and shrimp dumplings. 排骨 (pai gwat) spareribs. 牛肉球 (ngau yiuk kau) meat ball. 辣醬 (laat jeung) hot sauce. 鹹水角 (haahm sui gok) fried sticky dumplings. 鳳爪 (fung jau) phoenix claws. 普洱茶 (po-nay tsa) pu-erh tea; a darkened tea fermented after full drying and compressing, excellent for the digestion when indulging in rich greasy foods, and considered mildly tonic. 蝦膠釀青椒 (haa gau yeung tsing chiu) green bell pepper pieces stuffed with fresh shrimp mince. 馬蹄 (ma tai) water chestnuts. 腐皮捲 (fu pei kuen) stuffed tofu skin roll. 氣氛 (hei fan) ambiance. 咳 (kat) cough.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Reason being that what I describe might predispose you against going there.
Suffice to say that it is much good. Much much good.
孤膽飲茶
HAVING DIMSUM BY MYSELF
The business has been around for years. I hadn't eaten there in long time, so on a whim I went inside.
Except for a squalling foreign brat and his parents, and a very pretty girl eating lunch with her grand dad, I was the youngest person there.
Which is unusual.
Everyone else was retirement age, and some of them approached the hoary antiquity of the fossil record.
Geezers contentedly chowing down on some excellent dimsum. In between bouts of coughing.
Some of them were absolute masters of the tussive arts. Hack, haaack, hewk!
It was that characteristic joy at esophageal expulsis which many Cantonese oldsters evince that set their symphony apart.
Heart and soul went into their throat sounds. Possibly also bits of lung. Or is that pork mince?
A few, undoubtedly, had been chainsmokers for years. Others were merely reacting to a coating of grease inside their throats after having eaten too many juicy tidbits.
Evidence, one might say, of great pleasure.
The food is that good. Yes.
The tables are wiped regularly, and far enough apart that startling eruptions from other diners should be no cause for alarm. They are, in any case, alive. There's audible proof.
The walls have that old-timey somewhat barebones institutional look, but there's a warmth to the place, and it is comfortable.
The people who run it are decent home-town folks who are proud of what they do.
Their food is pretty darn good.
While I was sitting at my table digesting, swilling down buckets of pu-erh tea, and filling my pipe, one of the local eccentrics came in. At first I thought he was barking (as in 'barking mad'), then I realized that he was actually roaring out a conversation in Cantonese with the owner.
What made it remarkable was that he was quite clearly a big hairy white man.
That makes two Caucasians in the same place who speak Cantonese. What are the chances of that?
Some of the old age pensioners at this point had delighted looks on their faces.
It isn't often that one gets a freak show with lunch.
Time for more happy coughing!
I'll definitely put this eatery in my ambit.
According to the oh so knowledgeable experts on YELP, the restaurant is "a crappy, dirty, smelly Chinese hole", "small, cramped", and "hard to talk to the wait-staff, unless you know Cantonese".
Service is minimal, they say, but I had no cause to complain.
The stuffed eggplant, ha gau, siu mai, and spare ribs are justifiably well regarded.
Likewise the meatballs, homemade hot sauce, and ham sui gok.
Plus the phoenix claws are beautiful.
What I had to accompany my pot of po-nay tsa was mashed shrimp in green bell pepper wedges and a plate of tofu skin rolls filled with meat and waterchestnuts.
Both were exceptionally flavourful and juicy.
The ambiance suits me just fine.
Hrack, cough, hurk.
NOTES:
點心 (dim sam) small dishes enjoyed morning to early afternoon at a tea house. 釀茄子, 釀矮瓜 (yeung ke ji, yeung ngai gwa) stuffed eggplant. 蝦餃 (haa gau) shrimp bonnets. 燒賣 (siu maai) steamed pork and shrimp dumplings. 排骨 (pai gwat) spareribs. 牛肉球 (ngau yiuk kau) meat ball. 辣醬 (laat jeung) hot sauce. 鹹水角 (haahm sui gok) fried sticky dumplings. 鳳爪 (fung jau) phoenix claws. 普洱茶 (po-nay tsa) pu-erh tea; a darkened tea fermented after full drying and compressing, excellent for the digestion when indulging in rich greasy foods, and considered mildly tonic. 蝦膠釀青椒 (haa gau yeung tsing chiu) green bell pepper pieces stuffed with fresh shrimp mince. 馬蹄 (ma tai) water chestnuts. 腐皮捲 (fu pei kuen) stuffed tofu skin roll. 氣氛 (hei fan) ambiance. 咳 (kat) cough.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, February 12, 2012
DELIGHTFUL LITTLE DUMPLINGS IN CHINATOWN
The best part of tea-time was neither the chicken bun nor the flaky charsiu turn-over, fine though both of those were. And even the cup of tea was good.
But both were cast into shadow because of the happy children during, and the splendid tobacco after.
You already know about the tobacco.
I've mentioned it often.
Let's talk about the children.
Normally I am ambivalent about children. I do not have any of my own, and other people's offspring, with very few exceptions, do not strike me as the precious little dumplings that their parents have told them that they are, and proudly advertised them to be.
[Exceptions being notably an ex-coworker's charming child, now in Hawaii with his mom and grandparents, and Anthony at one of the bakeries I used to go to years ago in Chinatown - a bright little boy at that time, now no doubt a college graduate.]
These kids were at the dim sum counter in Chinatown where I stopped around four o'clock for replenishment. Their parents were there, I believe, because of the new equipment. The place will henceforth also be selling frothy fruity tea-type beverages with tapioca balls, and hot egg-waffles.
These machines have complex instructions for use. In English.
The normal staff there are NOT fluent in English.
Certainly not in technical English.
"Put brass cock A over fitted conical nozzle B.
Rotate counterclockwise until the mechanism locks.
Plug the plug C in plug-socket D; when it is well and truly plugged, turn metal plate E to fit the levered brackets, and after engaging knob F, start performing an enchanting little dance with twirly ribbons and tinkling bells!"
Yes. I can just see them trying to make sense out of this.
But they have a relative who is fluent in English, who installed both objects, and demonstrated their use. His little son is proud that he too knows how to operate the devices - his father showed him how! Wanna see?
The smaller boy (Robert) wondered why they always had to eat hot food, especially on warm days. To which his mother replied that food was food, and it was not a warm day. Now eat these dumplings, AND the leafy green item which is also in your bowl.
She's right. It's not a warm day.
The tiniest child wandered around exploring while munching a hot dog roll. With avid curiosity she observed me filling my pipe. All of the kids were initially somewhat aghast at me, because white people do NOT talk Cantonese, and I had ordered my food in that language; they fell silent, briefly, when I spoke. But their cheerful vibrancy soon had them animatedly chattering again, and other than the fascination with elegant kwailo fingers carefully stuffing a dark kwailo substance into a bent kwailo object, evinced by the littlest one, they paid me scant mind.
[Brief interruption to mention food: A chicken bun (雞飽 kai bau) consists of a chopped chicken filling inside a hot steamed doughy bun. The filling will usually also have some ginger, black mushroom, and a sliver of Chinese sausage for extra flavour. A charsiu turnover (叉燒酥 cha siu sou) contains red barbecued pork within a flaky pastry crust. Frothy fruity tea-type beverages (珍珠奶茶 chanchyu nai cha, 波霸奶茶 boba nai cha) were invented in Taiwan. They are made by mixing tea, fruit flavouring, condensed milk, and a little ice, then adding large tapioca balls (珍珠 chanchyu: 'pearls'). Nowadays many varieties do not contain either tea (or coffee), and the most popular type is probably honeydew melon cream with balls (蜜瓜珍珠奶茶 mat-gwa chanchyu naicha), although some people really like mixed coffee and black tea bubble tea (鴛鴦珍珠奶茶 yuen-yeung chanchyu naicha). Note that Yuen-yeung (鴛鴦) is a combination of coffee and milk-tea very popular in Hong Kong, served either hot or cold, without the tapioca balls. Egg waffles (鷄蛋仔 kai dan chai) in the Hong Kong Cantonese world are eggy-sweet puff batter cooked in a special pan or press, served hot and eaten plain. They are very popular in HK, but only recently known in SF Chinatown. The dumplings that the smaller boy ate were wonton (雲吞 wan tan). The leafy green item that his mother also ladled into his bowl I cannot identify, but it may have been lettuce - Cantonese like the taste of cooked lettuce. The little girl was eating a hotdog baked in pillowy bread dough (腸仔包 cheung chai bau), which is a popular and convenient snack. Other tasty things I've had there are cocktail buns (雞尾包 kaimei bau) filled with a sweet coconut dough paste, and sesame seed balls (煎堆 jin dui), nice and chewy, filled with lotus-seed paste (蓮蓉 lienyong).
Dumplings, as in the title of this post, are dim sum (點心). They also have that.]
While I ate I could hear the kids behind me, interacting with each other, their parents, and an auntie. They were happy and even loud. But there was no indication whatsoever of them being spoiled or badly behaved, no evidence of selfishness or ill-temper. Just full of beans and very much alive. As well as attentive and respectful of their elders.
At one point one of the boys was explaining to his older sister (the girl behind the counter) that adults worked, which is why they were often tired. He was also tired, having practiced using one of the new machines, so maybe he should take a nap. Which is what old people who work often do.
This got the girl thinking, and within minutes she was negotiating with her father over suitable recompense - while the other three had been playing around, she had carried things, straightened the bakery trays, and helped out. Surely that required appropriate appreciation? She suggested that four dollars for ten minutes was adequate, she was even cutting him a deal!
She seemed fixated on the four dollars.
More work, no problem. Even another ten minutes!
But no less than four dollars. That amount is set in stone.
I'm guessing that something she really wants costs exactly four dollars.
There's reason to believe that when no-one was looking, her father gave her the money.
How can you resist the entreaty of a hard-working little girl, who is being so uncomplainingly useful?
Normally, by the time I head into Chinatown for snackipoos on weekend days, my energy level is low. Under those circumstances I may be grumpy, and before I've eaten noise can get on my nerves. But these children were such REAL human beings, and clearly sweet and intelligent, that it was loads of fun being in the same place as them and listening in.
They might even make one want to have kids of one's own.
Either that, or dawdle longer over tea.
When I finished loading my pipe I headed out onto Stockton Street.
Lit up, and wandered through the neighborhood with no set goal in mind, though upon finding myself near Yong Kee on Jackson, I stopped in to buy a couple of salted egg puffs (鹹蛋酥 haahm dan so), explaining to the uncle behind the counter that they were an excellent snack for later at the office.
Although now that I'm here, I don't think that I will be hungry enough.
I'll just take them home for my roommate, she likes them too.
Oddly, I'm still smiling.
Such delightful children.
And a lovely smoke after.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly: LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
But both were cast into shadow because of the happy children during, and the splendid tobacco after.
You already know about the tobacco.
I've mentioned it often.
Let's talk about the children.
Normally I am ambivalent about children. I do not have any of my own, and other people's offspring, with very few exceptions, do not strike me as the precious little dumplings that their parents have told them that they are, and proudly advertised them to be.
[Exceptions being notably an ex-coworker's charming child, now in Hawaii with his mom and grandparents, and Anthony at one of the bakeries I used to go to years ago in Chinatown - a bright little boy at that time, now no doubt a college graduate.]
These kids were at the dim sum counter in Chinatown where I stopped around four o'clock for replenishment. Their parents were there, I believe, because of the new equipment. The place will henceforth also be selling frothy fruity tea-type beverages with tapioca balls, and hot egg-waffles.
These machines have complex instructions for use. In English.
The normal staff there are NOT fluent in English.
Certainly not in technical English.
"Put brass cock A over fitted conical nozzle B.
Rotate counterclockwise until the mechanism locks.
Plug the plug C in plug-socket D; when it is well and truly plugged, turn metal plate E to fit the levered brackets, and after engaging knob F, start performing an enchanting little dance with twirly ribbons and tinkling bells!"
Yes. I can just see them trying to make sense out of this.
But they have a relative who is fluent in English, who installed both objects, and demonstrated their use. His little son is proud that he too knows how to operate the devices - his father showed him how! Wanna see?
The smaller boy (Robert) wondered why they always had to eat hot food, especially on warm days. To which his mother replied that food was food, and it was not a warm day. Now eat these dumplings, AND the leafy green item which is also in your bowl.
She's right. It's not a warm day.
The tiniest child wandered around exploring while munching a hot dog roll. With avid curiosity she observed me filling my pipe. All of the kids were initially somewhat aghast at me, because white people do NOT talk Cantonese, and I had ordered my food in that language; they fell silent, briefly, when I spoke. But their cheerful vibrancy soon had them animatedly chattering again, and other than the fascination with elegant kwailo fingers carefully stuffing a dark kwailo substance into a bent kwailo object, evinced by the littlest one, they paid me scant mind.
[Brief interruption to mention food: A chicken bun (雞飽 kai bau) consists of a chopped chicken filling inside a hot steamed doughy bun. The filling will usually also have some ginger, black mushroom, and a sliver of Chinese sausage for extra flavour. A charsiu turnover (叉燒酥 cha siu sou) contains red barbecued pork within a flaky pastry crust. Frothy fruity tea-type beverages (珍珠奶茶 chanchyu nai cha, 波霸奶茶 boba nai cha) were invented in Taiwan. They are made by mixing tea, fruit flavouring, condensed milk, and a little ice, then adding large tapioca balls (珍珠 chanchyu: 'pearls'). Nowadays many varieties do not contain either tea (or coffee), and the most popular type is probably honeydew melon cream with balls (蜜瓜珍珠奶茶 mat-gwa chanchyu naicha), although some people really like mixed coffee and black tea bubble tea (鴛鴦珍珠奶茶 yuen-yeung chanchyu naicha). Note that Yuen-yeung (鴛鴦) is a combination of coffee and milk-tea very popular in Hong Kong, served either hot or cold, without the tapioca balls. Egg waffles (鷄蛋仔 kai dan chai) in the Hong Kong Cantonese world are eggy-sweet puff batter cooked in a special pan or press, served hot and eaten plain. They are very popular in HK, but only recently known in SF Chinatown. The dumplings that the smaller boy ate were wonton (雲吞 wan tan). The leafy green item that his mother also ladled into his bowl I cannot identify, but it may have been lettuce - Cantonese like the taste of cooked lettuce. The little girl was eating a hotdog baked in pillowy bread dough (腸仔包 cheung chai bau), which is a popular and convenient snack. Other tasty things I've had there are cocktail buns (雞尾包 kaimei bau) filled with a sweet coconut dough paste, and sesame seed balls (煎堆 jin dui), nice and chewy, filled with lotus-seed paste (蓮蓉 lienyong).
Dumplings, as in the title of this post, are dim sum (點心). They also have that.]
While I ate I could hear the kids behind me, interacting with each other, their parents, and an auntie. They were happy and even loud. But there was no indication whatsoever of them being spoiled or badly behaved, no evidence of selfishness or ill-temper. Just full of beans and very much alive. As well as attentive and respectful of their elders.
At one point one of the boys was explaining to his older sister (the girl behind the counter) that adults worked, which is why they were often tired. He was also tired, having practiced using one of the new machines, so maybe he should take a nap. Which is what old people who work often do.
This got the girl thinking, and within minutes she was negotiating with her father over suitable recompense - while the other three had been playing around, she had carried things, straightened the bakery trays, and helped out. Surely that required appropriate appreciation? She suggested that four dollars for ten minutes was adequate, she was even cutting him a deal!
She seemed fixated on the four dollars.
More work, no problem. Even another ten minutes!
But no less than four dollars. That amount is set in stone.
I'm guessing that something she really wants costs exactly four dollars.
There's reason to believe that when no-one was looking, her father gave her the money.
How can you resist the entreaty of a hard-working little girl, who is being so uncomplainingly useful?
Normally, by the time I head into Chinatown for snackipoos on weekend days, my energy level is low. Under those circumstances I may be grumpy, and before I've eaten noise can get on my nerves. But these children were such REAL human beings, and clearly sweet and intelligent, that it was loads of fun being in the same place as them and listening in.
They might even make one want to have kids of one's own.
Either that, or dawdle longer over tea.
When I finished loading my pipe I headed out onto Stockton Street.
Lit up, and wandered through the neighborhood with no set goal in mind, though upon finding myself near Yong Kee on Jackson, I stopped in to buy a couple of salted egg puffs (鹹蛋酥 haahm dan so), explaining to the uncle behind the counter that they were an excellent snack for later at the office.
Although now that I'm here, I don't think that I will be hungry enough.
I'll just take them home for my roommate, she likes them too.
Oddly, I'm still smiling.
Such delightful children.
And a lovely smoke after.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly: LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, November 13, 2011
DELICIOUS NOODLY THINGS - LUNCH ON STOCKTON AND WASHINGTON STREETS
One of the reasons that I like public transit is the opportunity to people-watch. You folks are fascinating!
If I were a space-alien temporarily posted to this planet to observe the local intelligent life, the bus would be the perfect place to collect data.
Prior to plundering earth’s precious resources of course, and hauling off the intelligent young females for breeding purposes.
Mars needs women!
Plus water and Icelandic bee-honey, among other things.
But mostly women.
COMMON COURTESIES 禮數
The California Street bus is particularly good in that regard, as once past Van Ness it picks up a large number of Cantonese on the way to Chinatown. Totally unconsciously they demonstrate levels of conditioning quite unusual nowadays among white people.
There’s a drang to concede seniority and superiority, almost always matched by a strong tendency to acknowledge the gesture but refuse the favour. Sit, sit! And unless the elderly person is truly several years older than the person getting up to offer their seat, they will vehemently refuse.
No no, you sit, you sit – ney tzoh, ney tzoh!
Young women with children will either themselves rise – usually an unsuccessful attempt at manners, as the grey-haired ones will not hear of it unless truly needful – or tell their offspring to stand up. Which provides an object lesson and an example that will subconsciously influence the youngster, and inform his or her conduct throughout their life.
I doubt that many white people have any such conditioning anymore – quite often some perfectly healthy young adult will be too preoccupied with their cell-phone or scratching their testicles to even notice that some tiny old lady is trembling while desperately holding on. Just like they fail to understand that when there is a ton of room in the back of the bus, it might be a good idea to move there, so that the dozen or so folks waiting at the bus stop can also ride.
阿姨, 嗰便可以坐 SIT OVER THERE, AUNTIE
I know I seem a bit puritanical about this, but I really do think that yielding your place to a lady or an old person is the right thing to do. Same goes for holding doors open for others, and saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.
It really isn’t that hard to be smooth to the people around you.
Pointing out an available seat to the auntie next to you made her life easier, and gave the rest of us a bit more space to stand.
The young fellow planted in front of the empty seat could’ve done the same, but he was far too busy with his i-pod to notice anything, so I can understand the oversight; electronic devices require one’s complete attention.
And it’s reassuring to know that he isn’t an outerspace alien observing us.
If his kind were interplanetary explorers, we’d be in real trouble.
They would NEVER understand that Mars needs women!
Instead, they’d steal our hip hop music.
And open up the Red Planet.
For Starbucks.
OKAY THEN, WE'RE HERE 到了, 大家落車嘅喎
Chinatown is also perfect for people-watching, especially at eating places. Precisely like young white adults with their cell-phones and other electrical toys, Cantonese people are totally pre-occupied when involved with food.
But with one crucial difference: they do not tune out the rest of the world. Instead they regard the passing throngs as a version of dinner theatre, keenly observing everything around them from behind a plate of something really tasty.
I arrived at the dim sum place when the ladies behind the counter where having their own lunch. Which was while the place was jumping, every table occupied. But that's not strange, as seeing other people cheerfully stuffing themselves stimulates the appetite - it's hard work!
Took my tray and sat down at a table where an elderly woman was savouring every silken spoonful of her 皮蛋瘦肉粥 (pei dan sau yiuk jook - century egg and pork curls rice porridge) with slow ecstasy. A friendly nod served as a bon appétit.
By the time I had finished munching, most tables were empty again, so I ordered some of the fresh steamed cilantro sheet noodle (yuen sai cheung fan 芫茜腸粉) which had just come out of the kitchen.
Oh happy opportunism! I got it first!
[Dim sum place: 金華點心快餐 Yummy Dim Sum & Fast Food, 930 Stockton Street, San Francisco, CA 94108.]
Strolled down Washington Street smoking an after-lunch pipe, past the young fellows from the kungfu school catching a ciggy out of sight of their sifu, past the ladies handing out menus for nearby restaurants on the corner of Grant Avenue. Caught the eye of a little girl whose mouth dropped open when she saw the pipe, as well as an elderly gentleman who stared in fascination at the object.
Totally understandable!
It's a handsome pipe, of very high quality - not at all surprising that they recognized that!
Calm and contemplative air-pollution. It's one of the joys of life.
Got to the office shortly before three. The day had started well.
Everyone should have something nice to eat on weekends, it makes the world fresh and bright again.
Don't you agree?
三陽咖啡餐屋 SAAM-YEUNG KAFEI TSAN-OK
I should mention, by the way, that the San Sun Restaurant (三陽咖啡餐屋), which had to move because of the metro line that will be built along Stockton Street, has relocated to where Sun Wah Kue (新華僑餐廳) used to be on the corner of Ross Alley and Washington (between Stockton and Grant).
Many people fondly remember Sun Wah Kue, especially their delicious pies, and diner-style dishes with a Chinatown touch - oxtail cooked with star anise, fried chicken with the best coating ever - and were unhappy when it closed down years ago. It had been a place where generations of Chinatown folks had enjoyed the food.
They'll be pleased to know that the old location now has a bright sunny new tenant with a positive attitude.
It is clean and fresh and inviting, and I anticipate going there for lunch tomorrow.
I will let you know how it is.
[San Sun Restaurant: 848 Washington Street, San Francisco, CA 94108.]
Fine tobacco, nice people, yummy dimsum.
And tomorrow, noodles!
Auntie!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
If I were a space-alien temporarily posted to this planet to observe the local intelligent life, the bus would be the perfect place to collect data.
Prior to plundering earth’s precious resources of course, and hauling off the intelligent young females for breeding purposes.
Mars needs women!
Plus water and Icelandic bee-honey, among other things.
But mostly women.
COMMON COURTESIES 禮數
The California Street bus is particularly good in that regard, as once past Van Ness it picks up a large number of Cantonese on the way to Chinatown. Totally unconsciously they demonstrate levels of conditioning quite unusual nowadays among white people.
There’s a drang to concede seniority and superiority, almost always matched by a strong tendency to acknowledge the gesture but refuse the favour. Sit, sit! And unless the elderly person is truly several years older than the person getting up to offer their seat, they will vehemently refuse.
No no, you sit, you sit – ney tzoh, ney tzoh!
Young women with children will either themselves rise – usually an unsuccessful attempt at manners, as the grey-haired ones will not hear of it unless truly needful – or tell their offspring to stand up. Which provides an object lesson and an example that will subconsciously influence the youngster, and inform his or her conduct throughout their life.
I doubt that many white people have any such conditioning anymore – quite often some perfectly healthy young adult will be too preoccupied with their cell-phone or scratching their testicles to even notice that some tiny old lady is trembling while desperately holding on. Just like they fail to understand that when there is a ton of room in the back of the bus, it might be a good idea to move there, so that the dozen or so folks waiting at the bus stop can also ride.
阿姨, 嗰便可以坐 SIT OVER THERE, AUNTIE
I know I seem a bit puritanical about this, but I really do think that yielding your place to a lady or an old person is the right thing to do. Same goes for holding doors open for others, and saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.
It really isn’t that hard to be smooth to the people around you.
Pointing out an available seat to the auntie next to you made her life easier, and gave the rest of us a bit more space to stand.
The young fellow planted in front of the empty seat could’ve done the same, but he was far too busy with his i-pod to notice anything, so I can understand the oversight; electronic devices require one’s complete attention.
And it’s reassuring to know that he isn’t an outerspace alien observing us.
If his kind were interplanetary explorers, we’d be in real trouble.
They would NEVER understand that Mars needs women!
Instead, they’d steal our hip hop music.
And open up the Red Planet.
For Starbucks.
OKAY THEN, WE'RE HERE 到了, 大家落車嘅喎
Chinatown is also perfect for people-watching, especially at eating places. Precisely like young white adults with their cell-phones and other electrical toys, Cantonese people are totally pre-occupied when involved with food.
But with one crucial difference: they do not tune out the rest of the world. Instead they regard the passing throngs as a version of dinner theatre, keenly observing everything around them from behind a plate of something really tasty.
I arrived at the dim sum place when the ladies behind the counter where having their own lunch. Which was while the place was jumping, every table occupied. But that's not strange, as seeing other people cheerfully stuffing themselves stimulates the appetite - it's hard work!
Took my tray and sat down at a table where an elderly woman was savouring every silken spoonful of her 皮蛋瘦肉粥 (pei dan sau yiuk jook - century egg and pork curls rice porridge) with slow ecstasy. A friendly nod served as a bon appétit.
By the time I had finished munching, most tables were empty again, so I ordered some of the fresh steamed cilantro sheet noodle (yuen sai cheung fan 芫茜腸粉) which had just come out of the kitchen.
Oh happy opportunism! I got it first!
[Dim sum place: 金華點心快餐 Yummy Dim Sum & Fast Food, 930 Stockton Street, San Francisco, CA 94108.]
Strolled down Washington Street smoking an after-lunch pipe, past the young fellows from the kungfu school catching a ciggy out of sight of their sifu, past the ladies handing out menus for nearby restaurants on the corner of Grant Avenue. Caught the eye of a little girl whose mouth dropped open when she saw the pipe, as well as an elderly gentleman who stared in fascination at the object.
Totally understandable!
It's a handsome pipe, of very high quality - not at all surprising that they recognized that!
Calm and contemplative air-pollution. It's one of the joys of life.
Got to the office shortly before three. The day had started well.
Everyone should have something nice to eat on weekends, it makes the world fresh and bright again.
Don't you agree?
三陽咖啡餐屋 SAAM-YEUNG KAFEI TSAN-OK
I should mention, by the way, that the San Sun Restaurant (三陽咖啡餐屋), which had to move because of the metro line that will be built along Stockton Street, has relocated to where Sun Wah Kue (新華僑餐廳) used to be on the corner of Ross Alley and Washington (between Stockton and Grant).
Many people fondly remember Sun Wah Kue, especially their delicious pies, and diner-style dishes with a Chinatown touch - oxtail cooked with star anise, fried chicken with the best coating ever - and were unhappy when it closed down years ago. It had been a place where generations of Chinatown folks had enjoyed the food.
They'll be pleased to know that the old location now has a bright sunny new tenant with a positive attitude.
It is clean and fresh and inviting, and I anticipate going there for lunch tomorrow.
I will let you know how it is.
[San Sun Restaurant: 848 Washington Street, San Francisco, CA 94108.]
Fine tobacco, nice people, yummy dimsum.
And tomorrow, noodles!
Auntie!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
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SAINT DINGO
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