Reality Equation

Shanghai Dumplings (Xiǎolóngbāo)

From my cursory perusal of Shanghai guidebooks and travelers’ websites, and Zhang Yi’s recommendations, I gathered that the much-celebrated Shanghai-special steamed dumplings, also called Xiǎolóngbāo (小笼包), are worth scouring the city for, for two main reasons: ine, it’s local cuisine that almost any foodie who’s ever been to Shanghai will recommend and two, the photos made it seem a lot like momo, the venerable Nepali/Tibetan dumplings that’s as much a part of my own culture as it is of pretty much anyone who’s ever lived in Kathmandu, the quintessential dish that the city embraced, transformed and made it owns own (much like New York did with the pizza).

I read that the Old Town God’s Temple area was the best place to find this. This was rather convenient, given I was staying in a hostel not far from that area, in Fuzhou Road. After breakfast/coffee at Città, I went back to my hostel, stashed away my computer, made sure I had my camera on me, and headed out to find these dumplings.

Walking to the Old Town area is an exercise in adaptation and patience. I didn’t know I could go through Sichuan Rd and get there much quickly until after, on my way back, but going up Fuzhou Road, taking HeNan Rd to make a left on RenMin Rd apparently leads you through some interesting areas. There’s a lot of construction work going on, which you’ll (naturally) be expected to walk through. Which wouldn’t be all that odd if it weren’t for the fact that drivers are also apparently (naturally) expected to drive through it. Crosswalks seem to appear out of nowhere, motorists don’t really seem to want to stop for you, even if you wait for the green walk sign before crossing, and people (for the most part) seem to look at you suspiciously. “Why”, they might wonder, “would he chose to walk through here?”.

Once you actually reach there, though, things are quite different. You start noticing huge temples, beautifully decorated pagoda-style houses, all with ancient symbols and lettering you have to assume are traditional characters. And on the ground floor of these magnificent, rustic shrines, the infamous McDonalds logo. And KFC, and Bank of China, jewelry stores, fashion boutiques. Quite the odd mélange: intriguing, yet somewhat worrying.

After asking around, I found myself outside DN Dumpling (大娘水交, Danniang Shuijiao), a small, very red dumpling fànguǎn that that was somewhat busy but not overflowing with tourists.

I asked about xiǎlóngbāo, and was directed to the second floor, which you’ll discover after ascending (and descending a little), opens up to an elaborate seating area, also decorated in sharp red and white. You order at the counter—either point, or they’ll give you a notebook you can flip through—get seated and wait for your dumplings.

The actual xiǎolóngbāo, which I think is made with crab meat (although I can’t confirm this, anybody know for sure?) costs CNY 18, and comes in a traditional bamboo steamer, six pieces in all.

You also get chilli sauce and garlic paste as condiments, for which you can ask for (or they’ll offer you) a small plate to dip dumplings in.

How did it taste? Much to my delight, I found the Shanghai xiǎolóngbāo were much closer in taste taste to the Nepali momo than any jiaozi or the baozi I’ve had. And this, of course, means I liked them quite a bit. My only complaint would be the portions; six pieces just isn’t enough for lunch (although I will admit they asked me ‘how many’ when I ordered).

I asked for another one, banking on my four-weeks worth of Chinese to ask if they came with any other meat.

“No,” I was told, resolutely, “but we have a selection of water dumplings”. Shuijiao! The lady behind the counter didn’t really speak much English—thus, knowing some Chinese definitely helps—but was well-equipped to handle yìngwen-speaking guests, which I’m assuming she’s used to having. She promptly produced a notebook with a listing of water dumpling choices in English, and asked me to pick one.

I went for the one with pork and crab (it was spelled “crad”, but I’m guessing I can’t be too wrong in assuming), which cost CNY 5.5. These aren’t served those really fancy bamboo steamers, but they’re still very good:

The water dumplings weren’t all that different, save for the presentation and a slight variation in texture (since these actually were boiled as opposed to just steamed). Once you get over novelty of xiǎolóngbāo, you could easily get used to paying less than half the price and enjoying shuijiao instead on a regular basis. I’d imagine smaller, less fancier stores would have them for even cheaper.

On the topic of dumplings, however, the momo (Nepali: म:म:) still reigns sumpreme. Perhaps it’s because I grew up on them, or that they’re usually made with some small amount of mountain pepper (Nepali: टिमुर), or simply the strength of my association of momo with the dumpling food family; for whatever reason, momo is a perfect food. And the xiǎolóngbāo is to be respected for being able to come so close to it.