HUNGRY GERALD

SJ here and a disappointed one at that. After my great joy in returning to Nom Wah (see the earlier Now Wah posting) I decided to try out another reincarnated old favorite — 456 Shanghai Cuisine which has been getting superb write-ups (including a great New York Times review). I headed off to eat there with visions of extraordinary soup dumpling gallivanting through my cerebral cortex. No such luck! Soup Dumplings were somewhat bland and lacking in that funky tang of crab roe; they were undersized and honestly not soupy enough as if the chef were a miserly curmudgeon trying to save a few bucks on broth and dough. Finally, they weren’t properly heated temperature wise. Which is a bit criminal in my mind. Soup Dumplings need to be blazing! Salt and Pepper shell on shrimp were fine, yet lacking in that spicy umph that would have made me take notice and — not to sound too much like Groucho Marx — the portion size was a bit small for the price tag. Spicy Double Sauteed Pork was neither spicy nor did it have any of the velvety tenderness that one would associate with something that has been “double” sauteed — what the hell is double sauteed anyway? Maybe that one is my fault for ordering something so sloppily named. The final insult came with the Shanghai Won Ton Soup. This should have been an easy one. Alas, nothing about the Won Ton was Shanghainese and the broth tasted of bouillon cubes with a healthy dash of MSG. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

Maybe all this is due to the hype? 456 Shanghai just reopened and it has been swamped with people drawn by great reviews and nostalgia. Maybe the kitchen just couldn’t keep up with the demand? Could be! Could also be that hype is hype and next time I want some fine Chinese chow, you’ll find me in the totally amazing Food Court at the New World Mall in Flushing!

Brunch at the Toronto home of Nir B., the renowned photographer, and Wendy W., the recently retired big time TV journalist. A beautiful old house lovingly remodeled from designs by Nir (a pal for 40 years; yet never suspected he harbored such architectural talent). Big windows bring the rear garden right into the home and saturate the space with such light that you feel miles from urban noise and angst. Lots of wonderful art and photography on the walls.

Nir and Wendy provided a true international feast. A smoked salmon frittata, guacamole, baba ganoush and made-from-scratch hummus. And you know what? If you want really great hummus, let an Israeli like Nir make it — hummus redefined! Dipped Wendy’s biscotti in Nir’s home made red wine. A wonderful meal with civilized, talented loving friends.

Returning to Santa Fe in slow, mellow stages. HG and BSK spent the night at the perfect Sandman hotel at the Toronto Airport. Beautiful design. Efficient front desk. Great price (a penthouse suite for $109). Tired and hungry HG/BSK dined at Moxie’s, the hotel restaurant. Had low expectations. Big surprise. A splendid roast chicken with a goat cheese and thyme emulsion. Top flight stuffed baked potatoes and French fries. Fresh broccoli done right. Knocked off a tasty bottle of Argentine Malbec. Breakfast was super lattes and warm bran muffins. Good stuff.

Nom Wah Teahouse — the birthplace of my dumpling obsession and the oldest Dim Sum restaurant in New York City (serving since 1920!). Back in the 70s HG and I would often spend an early afternoon there hailing the Dim Sum carts and loading up our table with varieties of dumplings, folded rice crepes and buns while studiously avoiding those scary dishes of chicken feet. We would eat and drink tea until our stacked plates began to sway like skyscrapers in the wind. Back then your check was determined by the amount (and type) of plates left on the table, and crafty HG would often “joke” with the surly waiters by “hiding” the majority of plates on his lap. A practice guaranteed to cause great embarrassment to your children. It was the spot where I first used my barely learned chopstick skills to SLOWLY convey a slippery Har Gow (shrimp dumpling) to my waiting lips. Suffice it to say that Nom Wah is responsible for making the rattle of a loaded Dim Sum cart the most hunger inducing sound that I know of.

So it was with great joy (and some real trepidation) that I read in HG’s earlier posting (“Nom Wah. A Great Tradition”) that Nom Wah had re-opened with new ownership and a revamped menu. I could not wait to try it so I gathered up Exquisite Maiko, Mr. Haru and my sister, Victoria (the Restaurateur!) — a hard-hitting posse of Dim Sum lovers if there ever was one — and headed off to the Bloody Angle of Doyers Street.

It was with real relief that we walked in and found Nom Wah to be essentially unchanged. Relief because it is just a wonderful space — a 1930s luncheon spot with red checked table clothes, coat hangers at every table and the warm patina of age. The new owner is the nephew of the previous owner and his love for the restaurant allowed him to somehow do the impossible — renovate and clean the space without changing a thing. The result is that Nom Wah verily hums with joy — It is old fashioned without seeming nostalgic or forced; it is packed with tourists, but absolutely genuine. It is in the details: the mismatched plates and tea cups that have been in service for decades, the tray of condiments (duck sauce, worcestershire sauce, Chinese mustard) that no new dim sum palace would allow on a table, the dappled surface of the mirrors, the tiny bathroom sink with hot & cold faucets. What has changed is only positive. Gone are the surly wait staff and gone are the rickety dim sum carts. In their place are made-to-order dim sum and a group of people (owner included) who just seemed happy to see you, happy that you decided to come into a restaurant that they themselves seem to love.

So…the food? Well, it is totally fine. The Egg Roll is clean and not greasy. The Steamed Pork bun was fluffy and generously stuffed with sweet & savory meat; the Har Gow were silken skinned and the shrimp snapped with freshness. The rice rolls were okay; and I happily gnawed on some steamed spare ribs. There were some menu nods to modernity with notations for “gluten-free” items, some clearly marked vegetarian and kosher options and a quite wonderful “new style” dumpling stuffed with snow pea leaves and shrimp. Without a doubt, I’ve had better dim sum in Sunset Park and out in Flushing and even at Dim Sum Go Go a few blocks away. But, for the two un-rushed hours me and my wonderful family sat in Nom Wah, talking, eating and laughing at Victoria’s stories about throwing dumplings at her first Nom Wah visit, there was simply no other place — no other restaurant! — that I would have rather been. It is an absolute testament to the great job that Nom Wah’s new owners are doing that this old standard has been reborn as a restaurant that I can’t wait to get back to.