HUNGRY GERALD

During HG’s lengthy residence in Colorado (and now Santa Fe) there was one thing missing from HG’s idyllic life. A great Chinese restaurant. So, ironically, as soon as HG left Denver a great Chinese restaurant opened in the Mile High City. The restaurant is Star Kitchen (Mississippi and Federal Boulevard). Big, nicely lit room. Swift service. Exquisite Cantonese food — Steamed chicken dumplings, Fried pork dumplings. Big, juicy deep fried shrimps balls. All fresh and flavorful. Then came a platter of sauteed greens with garlic. An extraordinary dish of Japanese eggplant in a robust sauce redolent of garlic and ginger. Shredded pork with Chinese mushrooms and bok choy. Sesame chicken (crisp and not too sweet). HG and BSK were with friends with conservative eating habits so the restaurant’s renowned seafood dishes were untried. That will be remedied next time. Star Kitchen is reputed to have the best dim sum in the great land mass between California and Chicago. Those little yummies will also have to wait until our next visit.

SJ here. Christians have their Church bells. Muslims have the sound of the Muezzin calling the faithful to prayer. In my gustatory devotion, I have the sound of a dim sum cart rattling about while shouts of “Har Gow!” pierce the din of a crowded hall.

My place of worship is now the East Harbor Seafood Palace (714 65th Street in Dyker Heights, Brooklyn). Consistently packed with mostly Chinese clientele, East Harbor is modeled after the huge, dim sum palaces of Hong Kong. It is loud with crowd noise, shouting dim sum cart attendees and the badly amplified voice of the maitre d’ calling waiting diners to their tables. Expect a good 30 to 40 minute wait. Trust me, it is worth it.

I’ve tasted great made-to-order Dim Sum in Manhattan’s Chinatown and in Vancouver and always reveled in the fresh flavors and textures of that methodology. But the carts at East Harbor– owing perhaps to fast turn-around –dish out food that is every bit as fresh as those made-to-order spots and packed with even more flavor. The basics are covered to perfection — Shui Mai, snappishly fresh Har Gow, silky rice noodles, pillowy pork buns, crunchy spring rolls; but the carts keep arriving with things we’ve never seen before: finger length peppers stuffed with pork and crab, garlicky Chinese greens, tiny cockles stir-fried table side in black bean sauce, dumpling varietals with cashews and nuts, and definitely a few things I can’t even name. You see, when the carts keep coming, and you had your 45-minute-starving-to-death wait, you enter into a dim sum frenzy and begin grabbing just about anything for fear that it may all just disappear. At most dim sum spots, this fear is justified — dishes do disappear and the glum Dim Sum car attendants will look at you like a madman if you dare ask if that steamed pork rib dish is going to return. However at East Harbor dishes DO reappear and if you ask for something — crazily enough! — the staff is actually helpful! Yes, East Harbor Seafood has polite staff. They are nice! Nice to us! Nice to my son! They brought water when asked and more chili sauce and even said “no problem” and rushed off to get me some Hoi Sin sauce for my pork buns. This is an amazing thing for a Dim Sum palace — unparalleled actually!

So, the Dim Sum at East Harbor was completely top notch. I would hasten say it is the best in New York, except I know that there are some spots in Flushing that I have not yet tasted. But great dim sum AND a pleasant staff? Don’t know if that will happen in Flushing.

While noshing on our dim sum we noticed that the table next to us was filled with some mighty serious eaters. There were about 15 of them, a family — grandparents down to grand kids — and simply enormous. Each of them hitting upwards of 300+ pounds. All Italians from the neighboring community of Bensonhurst, Brooklyn. And they were being brought enormous and extensive casseroles of seafood — lobsters, crabs, prawns, crayfish maybe — and eating it with unmatched gusto. Shells cracking, fingers pulling at shreds of crab meat, juices dripping onto chins — pure joy!

And I didn’t taste it. So, a trip to East Harbor for a non Dim Sum meal is in order and all HG readers should prepare to read all about it!

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.