An Ode to Dim Sum

Is it sad to love a dumpling more than most other worldly possessions? If it is, then I'm utterly depressing, because I'm a hopeless fanatic for dim sum. God help me.

You may not know about dim sum if you're not from China, the West Coast, if you don't dine out much, or if you have been living in a cave since childhood (and by 'cave' I mean 'the Deep South.' Just kidding. Kind of.) If you don't know about it, never fear: your life is about to be enriched by a blog post from an overweight white twentysomething salesperson. Congratulations. Dim sum may be the greatest thing to ever happen to you. Or maybe the greatest thing to ever happen to you will be meeting and marrying your spouse. Only time will tell.

'Greatest thing ever' debates aside, you're in for a great treat with dim sum. Dim sum generally involves haggard Chinese restaurant employees pushing around carts stacked with bamboo dumpling steamers and random tiny plates of Cantonese Chinese food. Diners flag down these carts and demand, in English or Chinese, to have food placed on their tables. The most experienced diners often combine hand signals and a barked order delivery style, much like a stock broker on the floor of an exchange trying to negotiate a trade with another broker across the trading floor. Then, upon delivery of food to diners' tables, the servers place stamps on the tables' order cards in order to record the food that the diners have ordered. English-speaking customers have no idea if they have been properly charged because the order cards and stamps are typically in Chinese, but that's part of the fun.

So, let's recap: disgruntled employees push food carts, you yell at them and make hand signals frantically to acquire food from them, and they charge you seemingly random amounts of money for their goods. That may not sound like fun, but trust me, it is. The decor and food acquisition process are fun in their own ways, but it's the tasty food that makes dim sum so excellent. Shrimp-filled steamed dumplings, called 'ha gau,' 'har gau,' 'har gow,' or whatever we English speakers want to call them (mangling a beautiful language that's thousands of years old in the process), are simply magnificent. Sui mai (don't even get me started on the multiple spellings), which are pork, shrimp, and mushroom-filled dumplings, tantalize from their bamboo steamer dwellings. Snoop Dogg might refer to these dishes and their dim sum brethren as 'The Chronic. ' A certain James Gumpper might refer to them as 'sweet units.' I need a term for them, so I'll go with 'ballerific.' The food's that good.

So, what's the moral of the story? Get yourself some dim sum, preferably within the next 24 hours. If you're in the Valley, check out Joy Luck Place in Cupertino. The lines are long, but it's worth the wait. Mayflower, a restaurant in Milpitas, is also a great spot. If you're in the city, there are tons of great options in Chinatown, but for more upscale dim sum fare (at premium prices), try Yank Sing. There are two locations (one on Stevenson, near the corner with New Montgomery, and another in the Rincon Center by the Embarcadero), and they're both excellent. I could go on and on with other great places in the Valley and in San Francisco (ABC, Pan Tao, etc), but the ones listed here are good to start for any beginners.

I'm sure I'll write more about dim sum in the future, but I think this introduction to dim sum's boundless glory should suffice for now. Until next time, keep it real. Oh yeah, and to Jenny Blake: thanks for the inspiration, and let's get ready for our 'Faces of Executives Cupcakes & Cookies'' bake sale.

Blogging you so hard you're sore the next day,

Valley J