So, I found myself craving dim sum the other day. You know how it is, sometimes you just gotta have those little steamed baskets of goodness. I decided to check out this spot folks have been mentioning, the one down in the newer part of town, yeah, that “DT Dim Sum & Tea” place. Or maybe it’s just “Downtown Dim Sum & Tea,” who knows, the sign was a bit fancy.
Getting Started and Settling In
Anyway, I dragged myself out of bed a bit later than planned, skipped my usual coffee because I knew there’d be tea, obviously. Hopped in the car, and traffic wasn’t too bad, surprisingly. Found parking a couple of blocks away, which is always a win downtown. The place itself looked pretty modern, not like those old-school dim sum halls I grew up with, the ones with the loud carts and the aunties who barely spoke English but knew exactly what you wanted. This one was sleeker, calmer. Maybe too calm?
We got seated pretty quickly. They didn’t have the rolling carts, it was all order-from-a-menu style. I kinda miss the carts, you know? The surprise of seeing what comes around the corner. But okay, progress, I guess. We grabbed the paper menu and a tiny pencil. It’s always a serious business, marking those little boxes.
The Main Event: Ordering and Eating
We went for the classics first. You gotta test a place by its basics, right?
- Har Gow (shrimp dumplings): These came out looking pretty. Translucent wrappers, pink shrimp peeking through. I picked one up, dipped it lightly in soy sauce. The skin was a bit thicker than I like, not quite as delicate. Shrimp was good though, bouncy.
- Siu Mai (pork and shrimp dumplings): These were decent. Good size, flavorful filling. Can’t really mess up Siu Mai too badly, can you? I ate like three of these.
- Char Siu Bao (BBQ pork buns): We got the steamed ones. Fluffy bun, sweet and savory pork inside. These were actually really good. The bun was soft, the filling generous. I tore one open just to see the glorious red pork.
- Cheung Fun (rice noodle rolls) with shrimp: These were okay. The noodle was smooth, but I thought they were a bit skimpy on the shrimp. And the sauce! It was a bit too sweet for my liking. I always judge a place hard on its cheung fun sauce.
We also tried some fried taro puffs, which were crispy and delicious, and some turnip cakes that were nicely pan-fried with a bit of crust. The tea they served was a standard jasmine. They kept refilling it, which was good. I drank a ton of it, as usual. It helps wash down all the, well, everything.
Some Thoughts and a Little Story
Overall, it was… fine. You know? Not mind-blowing, but not terrible. Some hits, some misses. The service was efficient, almost too efficient. Like they wanted to turn tables fast. I get it, business is business. But sometimes you want to linger a bit with dim sum.
It made me think, why am I so particular about dim sum? Why do I even bother dissecting every little dish like this? Well, there’s a reason for that, and it’s not just because I like food.
This reminds me of this one time, years ago, when I tried to make dim sum at home for a big family gathering. Total disaster. I’d seen my grandma do it a million times, thought it looked easy. Boy, was I wrong. I spent two days prepping. My har gow wrappers? They were like rubber. Seriously, you could bounce them. I tried to pleat them all nice and pretty, but they just looked like sad, deflated blobs. My siu mai fell apart before they even hit the steamer. And the char siu bao! Don’t even get me started. I messed up the dough, it didn’t rise properly, so they were dense like little cannonballs with a tiny bit of pork filling that had somehow dried out.
My uncle, who never minces words, took one bite of a har gow, chewed thoughtfully for about five minutes, then just quietly put it down and poured himself a very large glass of water. Didn’t say a word. That was worse than him yelling, trust me. My aunties were trying to be polite, saying “Oh, it’s… interesting, dear!” which is code for “inedible.” I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. I think I ruined dim sum for my younger cousins for a good year. They’d look at me with fear whenever someone suggested it.
So, yeah, after that catastrophe, I developed a massive appreciation for anyone who can actually make decent dim sum. It’s an art. It’s skill. It’s patience I clearly don’t have for making it, only for eating it. That’s why I go out for it, and why I notice when the skin on a har gow is just a bit too thick, or the sauce on the cheung fun is off. It’s not just food, it’s respect for the craft I so spectacularly failed at.
Wrapping Up
So, this “DT” place? It’s okay. I paid the bill, it wasn’t too outrageous. I walked out feeling full, which is the main point, I suppose. Would I go back? Maybe. If I was in the area and really needed a fix. But I’m still on the hunt for that perfect har gow, that dream cheung fun. The quest continues, you know? And at least I’m not the one making it. That’s a win for everyone involved.
