Man this dim sum showdown got me feeling like a mad scientist mixing flavors in my kitchen. Started cause my niece swore new world dim sum beats the old stuff hands down. Got me thinking – time to settle this dough-to-dough.
The grocery hustle
Woke up early Saturday, hit three different spots. Asian market for the real deal supplies: chives, shrimp, that weird pink pork paste for siu mai. Then bougie health store for stuff like kale and quinoa flour – felt weird tossing that in my basket. Last stop, regular supermarket for basics. Cashier gave me the side-eye buying bamboo steamers and edible flowers together.
Kitchen chaos
Laid everything out like a battle plan. Traditional zone: bamboo steamer, soy sauce bowls, my grandma’s rolling pin. New world station: silicone molds, beetroot powder, truffle oil that smells like feet. Started folding traditional har gow first – shrimp fat dripping everywhere while pleating those wrappers thin as paper. Took me four tries before they didn’t explode in the steamer.
- Char siu bao disaster: Dough refused to puff. Ended up with sad beige lumps.
- Matcha crystal dumplings: Looked like toxic waste but tasted like sweet grass.
- Truffle xiao long bao: Poked holes in half trying to inject broth. Kitchen smelled like a rich man’s basement.
The face-off
Called over the family as guinea pigs. Put traditional har gow and my “avocado-chia siu mai” abomination side by side. Watched my nephew almost spit out the green one. Dad straight up said “why ruin good pork?” when tasting the quinoa dumpling. Complete meltdown when the sriracha-mango dipping sauce leaked onto white tablecloth – that stain ain’t coming out.
Here’s where it got personal: After tasting both, kept reaching for the regular siu mai without thinking. That fatty pork hit different. The fancy stuff? After two bites it felt like eating a menu description instead of food.
Epiphany in crumbs
Thought this was just dinner drama til my foodie niece started choking. Not on dim sum – on her own excitement talking about fusion tacos. Slapped her back hard, she coughed up a half-chewed kale dumpling. While she gasped for air, it hit me: just because you CAN put goji berries in everything doesn’t mean you SHOULD. Traditional recipes survived centuries cause they’re bulletproof. That “deconstructed egg tart” I slaved over? Ate it cold later while crying over the dishes pile. Tasted like failure with burnt crust.
Told my niece when she recovered: “Next time you wanna reinvent dumplings? Do it at your mama’s house.” Took my winning har gow leftovers and blocked her food Instagram. Sometimes the old ways stick around cause they actually work.