Din Tai Fung (Junction 8)

 

Xiao Long Bao

 I had this more than a month ago. A really long time ago. 

But I’ll be honest with you. 

I’ll have it every other week if I could afford it – financially and physically. 

What’s wrong with having steamed pork dumplings even more than the occasional chocolate, you say? 

When they start getting more addictive with each little bundle you pop in your mouth is why. And have I mentioned the varying results that occur when you do? Sometimes they burst in an explosion of fragrant broth out of your mouth at your dining companion, which isn’t always a bad thing. But then sometimes they blast back inwards into your throat, and you end up violently hacking up the entire thing, saliva and dumpling and all, at the same dining companion, which is when you realise that there’s much more skill required in handling those humble looking things than you initially thought. You also realise that the diners in your immediate vicinity staring at you. 

So when I say these are addictive, I mean it. If I had a rumbling, sexy baritone of a voice like those movie trailer narrators (This Summer…*dom dom dom* A hero is chosen…*dom dom dom*) I would be able to warn you effectively. But since I don’t – and I will very probably only end up sounding hilariously sleazy if I try – I just have this to say: Watch how many you have eaten. They are worse than snacking on Pringles while watching a Germany/ England match. 

Each famous dumpling skin, when eaten the moment they arrive on the table, is soft and supple yet doesn’t break when you pick one up by its tip. I’m convinced there’s some mad science that has gone into the fine balance between achieving almost paper-thin skin and yet being able to contain a ball of succulent minced pork and broth. Apparently the original Taiwan outlets are even better. I’m almost afraid to imagine. I never used to like XLBs. Never used to like the vinegar and ginger slices either. 

I still don’t know what was wrong with me then.