Dining on dim sum is easy once you get the basics down pat. And this book is going to help you do that.
First, keep in mind that the names of these dishes—especially the English ones—will vary widely from place to place once you get out into the real world. For example, you might find Siu Mai called “shrimp and pork dumplings” or shui mai or shiu mai or sui mai or shao mai or some other combination of these words, because some people have just winged it over the years when it came to transposing Chinese pronunciations into English. That is one of the reasons why we have so many illustrations in this book, as well as the name of each dish in Mandarin, Cantonese, and traditional Chinese characters. And so, the easiest way to get what you want the first couple of times you eat at a dim sum teahouse is to simply point at the siu mai, either in this book or on one of the carts that are wheeled around the room.
Second, each restaurant will have its own recipes, or at least it should. One place we frequent has a special way with Braised Duck Chins, for example, as they add unbelievable layers of texture and flavor to the dish, and it has become my gold standard for that particular recipe. What this also means is that the ingredients for each item will most likely vary to some degree, so if you have any food allergies, be sure to quiz the restaurant on what is in each dish.
Third, be adventurous. Try at least one new dish each time you dine. Blanched Goose Intestines, for example, might not sound at all appetizing in English, no matter how you spin the translation. But contrary to what your mind will be screaming at you—warning that this is something that you most definitely do not want near your mouth—you might very well end up being permanently charmed by these fluttery pieces of edible silk, which are delectable when an experienced chef is at the helm. The Chinese have had thousands of years to get things right in their food world, so it’s always best to leap into these dishes with an open mind and a very wide mouth.
Think of The Dim Sum Field Guide as your road map on this gustatory trip. The drawings will let you know what to expect from each order—whether it’s served in a steamer, on a plate, or in a bowl—and how many pieces usually appear per serving. Underneath the name of the dish are little symbols that tell you very quickly what to expect from this dish—Is there pork in there, or shellfish? Should you special order it? Is it supposed to be served hot? Can a vegetarian possibly eat it?—as all of these things are set out clearly in the key.
The second page for each entry then goes into even greater detail: what the dish’s textures and flavors should be, some background information on how it came into being, what variations you might expect to find, and more.
One of the greatest pleasures of eating dim sum is the opportunity to leisurely check out all of the carts passing by your table, many filled with foods you might have never even heard of before. As they wheel along, mere inches from your nose, you may be tempted to start ordering every dish you see. While that might initially seem like a great idea, you run the risk of an overcrowded table and an underplanned meal. So, one of the greatest challenges of eating at a dim sum teahouse is figuring out what to order so that you are not overwhelmed.
In dim sum teahouses, each cart tends to offer a specific type of dish. For example, one might be dedicated to small steamers of siu mai and char siu buns, another one will have plates with roast meats, another will have fried sweets, another will have soupy savory dishes, and so forth. You can always flag one of the cart-wielding servers down and peruse his or her (although it’s most often her) offerings. As she stops by your table, ask her to open up steamers for you and tell you what’s inside. You can always point to things in this book to help things along if there’s a language barrier.
The absolute first thing you will be asked by your waiter is what type of tea you want to drink. Prepare for this by reading “Tea Varietals” and discussing this with your fellow diners so that you can immediately answer on behalf of your table. A large teapot full of fresh tea will then appear. Let it steep for around five minutes and then pour out tea for everyone. Place the teapot near the center of the table or on the lazy Susan so all the diners can reach it; or, you can keep it near you if you want to be extra polite and serve folks—it’s all up to you.
If you are in charge of figuring out the meal, then read through the list on the dim sum–specific menu (often printed on a sheet of paper that you can mark up with a pencil). Decide how many of each dish you’d like and write the quantity (like “1” or “2”) next to the dim sum you want. Most dim sum will have three or four pieces, and these can sometimes be cut in half by your server. Count on at least one dish per person to start, so that if you have five people at your table, order around five things for the first round. Starving diners can always flag down a cart for immediate satiation of their hunger pangs, and I often try to have one or two things placed on the table right away in order to get the meal off to a happy start.
As the waitstaff set dishes in front of you, they will stamp either a Chinese printout of your order or a tally divided into sections according to price (generally categorized as small, medium, and large plates, but which may include things like special orders); be sure and keep this near the edge of the table where they serve the dishes. Printouts are provided when you have asked for things from your waiter and are having foods sent to you directly from the kitchen, while the tally is used mainly to keep track of the items you select from the carts. Once the meal is over, everything is totted up, including the charge for tea, which is calculated per person. Be sure to add a tip when you pay.
If you are dining with Chinese friends, expect to fight over the check, even if everyone agreed that you or they were hosting the meal. This is just good manners—please do lunge at the check when it arrives; it is also considered very gracious and clever to preempt this friendly tussle by secretly paying the cashier while ostensibly visiting the restroom. Whoever gets the check should feel triumphant and pay with pleasure while the others protest vociferously, as this gives the host great face. If you are so lucky as to treat everyone, brush off these protests by saying, “Xiàcì, xiàcì” (“next time, next time”).
And so, when you are ready to settle up with the teahouse, raise your hand to get the waitstaff’s attention and ask for the check in English or Chinese (買單 • mǎidān • maai5 daan1). Your orders and the checklist on your table will be tallied at the front counter, while someone else arranges to have the leftovers boxed up.
As noted earlier, you will have to choose the type of tea you want placed on your table before anything else, so now is the time to figure out what’s what. All of these teas go well with dim sum, so selecting the right one really comes down to personal taste.
This is the lightest of teas. It has a very pale green brew that smells of fresh-mown grass and is relatively low in caffeine.
The natural floral notes of this semifermented varietal set it apart from all others. It has a golden brew with a wonderful fragrance. The fresh leaves are bruised to release their juices and then left to slightly ferment before being dried.
The deep mahogany of this brew is what led to its Chinese name, which means “red tea.” (The English name comes from the color of the dried leaves.) A fruity edge to this much-stronger tea shows that it has been fully fermented.
The fully fermented form of this compressed tea is the darkest of all Chinese brews. Made mainly in Yunnan province, the leaves are usually bruised and oxidized (not naturally like other teas, but with things like bacteria and fungus), and that gives this unique tea its pleasant, earthy taste with a gently sweet edge. The leaves are formed into disks or bricks for easier transport.
No tea leaves are used here, just dried tiny yellow chrysanthemums, which means that this golden brew is caffeine free.
A personal favorite, this tea combines the floral headiness of the chrysanthemums with the earthy tones of pu’er tea leaves, which results in a deeply hued brew that spans a wide range of flavors and aromas.
Simply referred to as “flower tea” in Chinese, this is green tea with Arabian jasmine blossoms mixed in. As you probably can guess, this pale green brew has a decidedly floral perfume.
Not every teahouse will offer this, but it is a delightful choice if you can get it. This black tea is scented with dried lychees, which makes it the fruitiest of all teas. A dark red brew, this goes well with sweet dim sum.
Whatever tea you decide upon, the pot that is set down upon your table will most likely be filled with loose leaves and boiling hot water. Again, let the tea steep for at least five minutes to allow the flavors and aromas to develop. To check, open up the lid and see whether most of the leaves have settled to the bottom, which means that they have opened up. Then, pour a small amount into your cup and make sure that the color and aroma are correct. At that point, fill up everyone else’s cup before your own. If you have a lazy Susan on your table, wheel it around so that a cup appears before each diner.
When everyone has a cup, lift up yours as the host and say, “Lái lái lái” (“come, come, come”), which is a signal that you all should toast each other as a sign of welcome. Fill up the teacups as they become half empty, and thank anyone who tops off your cup. (Some people rap the table with their knuckles as a sign of thanks, but others might consider that déclassé.) As the pot becomes empty, set the lid at an angle on the pot—or turn it upside down on the pot if it doesn’t want to cooperate—and the waitstaff should automatically refill it with hot water.
If you are enjoying a long, relaxed meal, you may find that the flavor of the tea leaves will peter out before you are done. In that case, ask your waiter to give you a fresh pot. You can even ask for a different type of tea at this point to spice things up. In that case, ask for new teacups, too.
As with any food culture, there are a few fundamental bits of dining etiquette that ought to be honored. Here’s the rundown:
• Always put the other diners ahead of yourself, whether it comes to serving food or tea.
• Serve yourself only small amounts and finish them before adding more to your plate. At almost any Chinese meal, you may end up having four or five different types of food on your plate, but you’re expected to keep them in separate piles and eat them in a tidy manner.
• Remove any bones or shells from your mouth with your chopsticks. Pile them unobtrusively at the edge of your plate; never spit them out or dump them on the tablecloth. If the plates are getting messy, ask the waitstaff to give everyone a new plate.
• Use your chopsticks to eat everything unless your Chinese host uses his or her hands or a spoon; the few exceptions are marked with a “hand” symbol, as with Char Siu Buns; if you can’t use chopsticks, it is perfectly acceptable to ask for a fork.
• Request new plates when you move from the savory dim sum to the sweet ones. Use the serving spoons and/or chopsticks, if they are provided; otherwise, turn your chopsticks upsidedown while serving yourself or others.
• Keep your napkin on the table to your left, rather than on your lap. You may wipe your hands, mouth, and chopsticks with it, but always fold it so that a clean side is on top.
• Rest your nondominant hand on the edge of the table, not on your lap.
• Never stick your chopsticks in your food and leave them there.
• Make sure your chopsticks are clean of food before you remove them from your mouth.
• Signal that you are done eating by placing your chopsticks across the top of your plate, parallel to you.
• As always, fight to pay the bill.