Alright let’s get into this dim sum hunt in Mong Kok. Gotta be honest, finding the real deal takes legwork and ignoring some shiny fronts.
Morning Grind Starts Early:
Woke up feeling those rumbling dim sum cravings hardcore. Grabbed my trusty notebook – old school, yeah? – comfy shoes (crucial!), and made sure I had plenty of cash. A lot of these gems don’t mess with plastic. Hit the MTR early, buzzing with that Hong Kong morning energy. Mong Kok station spits you right into the chaos. First impressions? Overwhelming signs, smells, crowds. Perfect.
The Plan? Go Deeper:
Ditched Nathan Road almost immediately. Those big, bright places? Nah. Turned left, right, ducked into narrower side streets. Followed the scent of steaming baskets and the sound of trolleys rattling. Looked for places packed with locals, especially older folks sipping tea. That’s usually the golden ticket.
Spot Number One: The Basement Buzz
Stumbled down some slightly sketchy stairs near the flower market. Place looked cramped and definitely seen better days. But man, the noise! Chatter, yelling orders, trolleys banging around. Grabbed a tiny table, elbows basically touching neighbours. No frills menu, just ticked boxes on a sheet. Waited… patience is key here. Har Gow arrived first: skin thin enough to see the pink shrimp inside, almost translucent, packed tight. Biting into that? Sweet ocean punch. Siu Mai next: fat, juicy pork and shrimp chunks, topped with that tiny orange roe – flavour bomb. Knew I was onto something.
Spot Number Two: The Upstairs Clatter
Back on street level, walked maybe ten minutes deeper into the residential maze. Saw a faded sign pointing upstairs. Narrow staircase, feeling the decades. Up top, bright fluorescent lights buzzing. Place was louder, somehow. Felt rushed here. Trolleys zooming past constantly. Shouted my order: Char Siu Bao. Bun was fluffy soft, just a touch sweet, hiding chunks of smoky, slightly charred barbecue pork inside. Dangerously good. Also snagged Cheung Fun – slippery rice noodle rolls filled with crispy fried dough (yiu ja gwai). That mix of soft and crunch with sweet soy sauce? Mind blown.
Spot Number Three: The Old-Timer Corner Spot
By this point, feeling pleasantly stuffed but committed. Found a tiny corner place tucked away, windows fogged up from steam. Inside felt like stepping back in time. Mostly elderly gents reading papers. No trolleys here – gotta ask the owner directly, point at things. Got the Egg Custard Tarts. Small, warm. Crust flaky like crazy layers, custard smooth, creamy, not overly sweet. Perfect end note. They also had these amazing chicken feet in black bean sauce – messy as hell but flavour packed.
The Real Deal Takeaway:
Okay, conclusions after eating my body weight in dumplings:
- Forget Fancy: The best spots look rough around the edges. Think cracked tiles and loud staff.
- Local Crowd = Green Light: If you see working folks and grandparents dominating the tables, you’re probably golden.
- Cash is King: Seriously. Bring it.
- Patience, Patience: Service can be abrupt. Food takes time. Embrace the chaos.
- Trust Your Eyes (and Nose): Follow the steam, the noise, the worn menus.
The basement spot nailed the classics like Har Gow. That upstairs joint? Best Char Siu Bao I tasted all day. The old corner shop won with tarts and atmosphere. There’s no single “best” place, just different vibes and specialties. Mong Kok doesn’t hand its treasures over easy, gotta dig for them. Feet hurt, belly full, notebook scrawled with messy notes. Mission accomplished.