So, people keep asking me about this “dim sum manhattan” I keep mentioning. It’s not some fancy new dish, let me tell you. It’s more like… an experience. My own personal culinary battlefield, right in the heart of, well, not actually Manhattan, but it sure felt like it that day.
I had this brilliant idea, see? I was going to conquer dim sum. Not just eat it, but truly understand it. I pictured myself, calmly selecting perfect little baskets, a zen master of the pushcart. What I got instead? Pure, unadulterated chaos. A real New York minute, but stretched over two hours and fueled by an ungodly amount of tea.
The Day of Reckoning (Or, Just Sunday Brunch)
We decided to hit this massive dim sum palace on a Sunday morning. My first mistake, probably. The moment we walked in, BAM! It was like trying to navigate Times Square on New Year’s Eve, but everyone was armed with chopsticks and a desperate, almost primal hunger for ha gow. Seriously, the noise level was intense! And the carts, oh man, they were swooping in and out like yellow cabs driven by very determined aunties. You had to be quick on your feet, maybe even a little shouty, to get what you wanted. My carefully curated mental list of ‘must-trys’? Totally out the window. It just became a glorious free-for-all.
- First wave: We just grabbed anything that rolled past our table. Ended up with like, three baskets of shumai before I even caught a glimpse of a cha siu bao.
- Second wave: This was the panic buy stage. “Is that turnip cake? GRAB IT!” my friend practically screamed. Spoiler: it wasn’t turnip cake.
- Third wave: The dawning realization. Our table looked like a dim sum bomb had gone off. And that’s when I remembered reading something, some article by a real smarty pants, saying stuff like, “Many dim sum dishes are calorie dense, and high in fat and sodium.” No kidding! I could almost feel my arteries groaning with every bite of those delicious, greasy spring rolls. That “hidden” fat and sodium they mentioned, the stuff that’s “not be easily noticed”? Yeah, it was hiding in plain sight on my overflowing plate, laughing at me.
It was a lot. Way too much, if I’m being honest. My stomach was staging a full-blown protest by the time we were done. And the bill! Let’s just say it was a Manhattan-sized bill for a dim sum lunch. But you know what? It was an education. I went in there thinking I’d be all sophisticated and in control, and I came out feeling like I’d wrestled a delicious, steamy, multi-headed beast and, well, maybe not won, but definitely survived with a story to tell.
So, was it a success, this “dim sum manhattan” adventure? Depends entirely on how you define success, I guess. Did I eat some absolutely amazing food? Heck yes. Did I feel like I’d been put through the wringer, emotionally and digestively? Also a big yes. That’s my “dim sum manhattan” for you. A glorious, overwhelming, slightly regrettable, but ultimately unforgettable mess. A bit like the actual city itself, sometimes. You just gotta dive in headfirst, make some noise, and hope for the best. And maybe, just maybe, pack some antacids for the road. Seriously, you’ll thank me later for that tip.