Xiaolongbao, like pizza, is one of those divisive foods that’s almost too annoying to talk about. Everyone has an OPINION, and everyone is RIGHT, and everyone ELSE is a degenerate hayseed with the palate of a sucking chest wound. See, because Sally-Sue had them in New York and those are the real ones, but Jammy-Josh went to this place in L.A. and those are the best ones, and Marky-Mark is disgusted that anyone would ever eat xiaolongbao outside of Vancouver because, um, he cares about authenticityyyyy?, and fuck you all because Frankie-Fronk flies all the way to Shanghai every day on his lunch break but go ahead and eat rancid baby socks stuffed with pork-flavored clay if that’s what you’re into.

People.

Listen.

It’s just a dumpling. A tasty dumpling, yes, and an ingenious dumpling, but still—A DUMPLING, YOU GUYS. If you’ve been fortunate enough to avoid the current xiaolongbao internet frenzy, first of all, congratulations! And second of all, allow me to catch you up. Xiaolongbao, otherwise known as soup dumplings, are steamy little Hershey’s Kisses–shaped pouches that come from eastern China. Generally (confidential to nitpickers: I say “generally” to indicate that I am generalizing), they have a pork filling in the bottom surmounted by a jelled meat aspic, all bundled up in neat pinwheel-topped packages. When steamed, the aspic melts into broth inside the dumpling, producing a small wonder: a tiny bag of soup! First you must pierce the skin and let the interior steam (but not the soup!) escape, so as to not boil your mouth. Then a quick dip in soy/vinegar (or not) and a few ginger slivers on top. Then down the hatch! It’s a hot, salty, meaty, smooth, surprising treat. Xiaolongbao are delicious. You will enjoy eating them. Then, when you are done eating them, PLEASE CALM DOWN.

Din Tai Fung is a Taiwan-based restaurant chain whose xiaolongbao are the stuff of international legend. It has a Michelin star. The New York Times called Din Tai Fung one of the top 10 restaurants in the world. It has locations in Sydney, Seoul, Singapore, Kyoto, Los Angeles—and now Bellevue’s Lincoln Square. People are freaking out.

The interior of Din Tai Fung, with its institutional chocolate brown and buff wood walls, unforgiving lighting, and ever-present droning din, resembles a vaguely upscale cafeteria. Near the entrance, a picture window frames a stark white laboratory in which teams of men in white lab coats fill and fold endless trays of dumplings. (One wonders if, in the restaurant’s off-hours, they rent the room out for alien autopsies.) Diners stood outside the window like children at a zoo and snapped photos of the dumpling folders. The dumpling folders folded on.

On a Saturday afternoon around 2:00 p.m., the wait for a table was two hours. Alternatively, we were told, we could stand near the bar—or, as I would come to call it, the
Humanimal Shitshow Goodtime Corral—and wait for a couple of seats to open up. We chose the second option and joined the throng of lurkers staring predatorily at the 12 or so diner-filled bar stools. It is a fact of nature: Standing in a hungry crowd waiting for a first-come, first-served bar stool in an overhyped restaurant turns ordinarily civilized humans into mercenary bionic lions at the last watering hole on Planet Thirsty. It was brutal. Eventually, after 45 minutes of bobbing, weaving, treachery,
silent seething, and confrontation (“Um, ma’am, we were next, actually”), we secured two seats. Soon we would secure xiaolongbao. It had better be fucking worth it.

Well, it wasn’t.

The xiaolongbao ($1 per dumpling, 10 to an order) were fine. They tasted good. They sat in their little bamboo house and they were cute. And when you picked them up, they sagged with soup. They were not, however, particularly hot—the skin-piercing steam-valve technique was unnecessary—and, consequently, had achieved a congealed gumminess around the extremities. The rest of the food (all in tiny portions) was abysmally ordinary: pale, elderly green beans; rice cakes that defied chewing; shrimp and pork wontons whose thick skins evoked store-bought ravioli.

Maybe they’re still working out the kinks in the new operation, maybe they were hit hard by the crowds that day, maybe everything will be better in a month, but who cares? I will never return to Din Tai Fung in Bellevue. Not when I can go to the International District and for half the money get three times more food that’s 10 times better. Maybe I won’t find xiaolongbao on the menu, but oh well. It’s just a dumpling. recommended

Lindy West was born an unremarkable female baby in Seattle, Washington. The former Stranger writer covered movies, movie stars, exclamation points, lady stuff, large frightening fish, and much, much more....

44 replies on “Please Calm Down”

  2. This is a thing?

    My mom buys frozen ones from some Chinese hole-in-the-wall operation uptown in a semi-abandoned plaza (in Toronto) and we steam them at home. Pretty good. But yeah, I guess I wouldn’t know. 2 hours is fucking ridiiiiiiiiiculous.

  3. Way better food for way less money in the ID?!? Is that *really* that big a surprise? I wouldnt drive to Bellevue for much of anything really, especially not to wait two hours to eat dumplings. But I am sure the bridge and tunnel douchebags cant get enough of this flavor of the month…

  4. Good soup dumplings are worth a bit of a wait, but only if you’re already in a city that has multiple restaurants selling them.
    Competition is key when fad foods are involved.

    Good, fresh soup dumplings are a treat. Bad ones are the food equivalent of a leaky diaper.

  5. while even mediocre dumpling is good sometimes, but really good soup dumplings do not come by often.

    we use to go to the Din Tai Fung in Taipei when I was little, and it was good. As their popularity grow, so did the price, and the line. I have not been to one in years.

    I would like to give it a try, but I will probably go on a weekday ……

    BTW, I think it was good that Ms West pointed out the shortcomings of this operation, but some of the comments didn’t read like criticism, they were more like straight up bitching, nasty and unprofessional. The one that needs to calm down is Ms West.

  6. Um, no… I won’t calm down, XLB is my religion, don’t mock the god I bow down to, and I won’t mock your Dick’s burger obsession 😉 Religious Food Freedom!

    To quote my other hero (someone you probably mock for being such a successful hipster), Anthony Bourdain:

    “I’ve eaten at some of the best restaurants in the world, I would have a very, very, hard time finding anything more perfectly constructed than these.. ..if you measure this one food item against any single dish that any chef anywhere in the world makes, this is as good”

    Thanks for the review though, this is what I had been reading on Yelp… not worth writing home about, but worth writing an article about.

    Now, go out and join my XLB Facebook group (http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=57…), and for the record, the XLB I had was not even in China or Vancouver (little China), it was in Malaysia… 🙂

  7. While I’d like to see Soup Dumplings more available, I just make my own. This recipe is pretty good and reasonably easy: http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/v… Try to get thicker dumpling wrappers, they hold up better.

    I also make my own aspic for the soup by boiling a half pig’s head and some trotters, instead of the chicken-stock and chicken wing thing. Mmmm… viceral.

    Makes about 60 dumplings, easy. Froze the leftovers and steamed them up when we were craving them. Delicious. Screw 2 hours of waiting and a drive to $#%&ing Bellevue.

  8. Having eaten many times at the outstanding Din Tai Fung in Taipei I found my meal in Bellevue to be worth the wait. The cuisine is that of small homestyle shops all over Taiwan and is originally from Shanghai. The food you get in the ID is Cantonese sized to American Biggy Piggy portions, go eat that if you want. Then you will not be cluttering up the restaurant with your snide profanity. As a writer you should be able to express yourself without falling back on curses.It is what someone says when they have little else in going on. Eat up!

  9. The most remarkable dumplings are the ones with fresh, thin skin. Din Tai Feng is famous for this.

    Seattlites rave about their locavore pasta-making restaurants that sell small appetizers for $15, and where all of the plates are the serving size of tapas. Why shouldn’t a beautiful Taiwanese-Shanghainese restaurant be seen as in the same league?

    Or…. If you want the huge portions of Cantonese food that has been marred from the time in the U.S. with the thick, pre-frozen dumplings that would be sub-par anywhere in China or Taiwan, please go to the ID. Then my wait is shorter.

  11. You can get xiaolongbao at Bamboo Village in Wallingford. They don’t bring them around in the dim sum carts, you have to ask for them, though.

  12. @ #5 – Has anyone every accused Lindy of being Professional?

    Lindy, I love you because your reviews are honest and hilarious, without fluffy language and a bunch of pomp and circumstance.

    Two hours for fucking dumplings? You gotta be shittin’ me.

  16. My experience at Din Tai Fung was pretty bad. They employ approximately 100 servers (seriously at least 4 for each table), and yet the service was TERRIBLE. Our drinks did not arrive until after we were done eating, and then about 5 minutes apart (each person received theirs separately). Then we had to wait about 25 minutes AFTER finishing our belated drinks to get the bill despite asking twice. Then it took another 15 minutes to get our cards run. We were there over 2 hours after being seated, when we only intended an hour or so. The food was only OK, the dumplings were good, but not worth $1 each. The rest of the food was boring.

  17. I’ve eaten at Din Tai Fung in Taipei, Shanghai and LA, and it’s definitely one of my favorite places for xiaolongbao. Like any new restaurant, I’d give them a little bit of time to shape up. I haven’t been to this one yet, but I’m not going to wait 2 hours to get fucking xiaolongbao. In that time I can almost make it to Vancouver, where there are plenty of great xiaolongbao places. Let the hype die down, let the staff learn how to do things right, and I’m sure it’ll be a great place. I’m just glad there’s a restaurant for real xiaolongbao in Seattle finally.

  18. I’ve been to Din Tai Fung in Taipei and in Tokyo and I would agree with the New York Times that it is one of the greatest restaurants in the world. I was/still am extremely excited about a branch opening locally.
    I went to the new DTF in Bellevue a few weeks ago and was both pleased and a little disappointed. I think Lindy is absolutely correct that none of the xiaolongbao were served hot enough, although I didn’t find any fault with the texture of the wrapping (of course, we didn’t let them sit around very long either).
    I completely disagree regarding our spicy shrimp and pork wontons (which were delicious), a tender wrapping and good balance of sauce and spicy.
    I’m not sure what the deal is with their dumpling temperature control (perhaps they’re trying to avoid lawsuits from N. Americans who are unfamiliar with the scalding hot internal temp of xiaolongbao?), whatever the reason, I hope they get it resolved and crank it up because the quality is already almost there.

  22. Shit got real in this comments section, y’all. I’m glad all the people being mocked in the article showed up to reinforce their unwarranted fanaticism for soup dumplings.

  23. YOU ARE THE WORST PERSON IN THE WORLD, LINDY, AND I HATE YOUR STUPID ASS-FACE! /heaving breaths

    Like many in this thread, I have been to Din Tai Fung in Taipei. They were definitely the best xiaolongbao I have ever had. There are many restaurants in the SF Bay Area that also do a great job with them. Surprisingly, in Shanghai, I had pretty crappy ones that were not small and not soupy, and this was from a place where Bill Clinton visited.

    I have to agree with Lindy that the rest of the food at DTF is not that great and kinda overpriced. Also, don’t expect good service there, because their main objective is efficiency. That’s why the hostess and servers have the radio headsets.

  27. Lindy tried hard to sound like the disinterested hipster, an effort that probably masks her Chinese-food ignorance, but if you read the details you can tell she is sophomoric when it comes to Chinese food:

    You don’t go to a Chinese place and order green beans unless your Chinese food taste is honed at Wild Ginger.

    You didn’t order the spicy beef noodle. Why not? That’s where you might separate pretenders from contenders, and since you didn’t, let me tell you they were as good as those in Taiwan or China. Wonderful noodles.

    And if you knew a little more about what dumpling houses offer, you would know that it’s actually most appropriate to order hot and sour soup at a dumpling house where it’s not made to fool Amurrikans.

    And….”rice cakes?” What the….WHUT? Why would you ever ever order rice cakes at a dumpling house, and then JUDGE THE SAID DUMPLING HOUSE BY THE VIRTUE OF ITS RICE CAKES?

    Yes, Lindy, please YOU relax and don’t try to review Chinese food next time. Stick to film or Gallagher shows in Bremerton, where your ironic timbre is spot-on.

  28. Please stop calling them xihoaihwewh. Even the chinese people I know and have dined with at din tai fung don’t call them xciehgwoiahewa.

    Also, not sure where you ate, but except for the long wait it doesn’t sound like din tai fung.

  31. Here in Minnesota they are called “juicy buns” and they sell them at many little Asian joints in strip malls. They ARE good, but I had no idea people in Seattle were passionate about them.

  32. In Minnesota they are called juicy buns. I get them at the little Asian joint behind Target in East Saint Paul. Yum. I had no idea people were actually passionate about them, though. 🙂

    Oh, and #30, there isn’t any actual aspic in them once they are steamed at all. The aspic-y stuff turns into broth. Don’t be afraid.

  35. BillyT, The only thing worse than ignorant people, are ignorant people who think they know their shit. Just so you know, dry fried green beans are ubiquitous in every Szechwan restaurant (Szechuan is a region of China) and are an excellent benchmark for the rest of the restaurant’s offerings. Spicy Beef Noodle Soup at DTF is the worst thing on their menu. This is true in Bellevue, Taipei, Shanghai, Tokyo, and Arcadia. “Real” chinese food aficionados know where to get beef noodle soup, and it’s not at DTF. Hot and sour soup at dumpling houses? Hot and Sour soup is from the Szechaun region. Which is not known for dumpling houses. It’s mind-blowing how someone so arrogant can be so wrong about everything they type.

  36. Am I the only one who thinks some of these comments written by douchebags (<– or so it would seem…) like @27 were actually written by Lindy herself to make it look like she totally saw into the future and predicted that a bunch of people would read the article who would need to be told, repeatedly, to please calm down??

    Nice try, Lindy, but you can’t fool me!

  39. @28, regarding your two concerns:

    Please stop calling them xihoaihwewh. Even the chinese people I know and have dined with at din tai fung don’t call them xciehgwoiahewa.

    I believe Lindy should also use the term “white cheese” when reviewing Italian restaurants — even my European friends don’t use the word mozzzamarellia!

    Also, not sure where you ate, but except for the long wait it doesn’t sound like din tai fung.

    I’m not sure how you arrived at this comment thread, friend, but let me direct you to an interesting article about little oriental soupy dumplings: http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/please-calm-&hellip;

  43. Alright, I can’t take you seriously with all the caps, italics, and exclamation marks. While telling people to calm down, I really think you should calm down. This type of writing distracts me from what you’re actually writing.

    I do agree. Xiao Long Bao is overrated as a food, especially at Din Tai Fung. The first and only time I went, I had high expectations because of 1. The long wait, 2. The multitude of positive reviews, and 3. The fact that it was legit Chinese food. I was unfortunately, disappointed and vowed not to eat there again. Not too sure why there’s such a demand for them. They’re small dumplings. It puzzles me.

  44. I am lucky enough to have discovered them under the ungainly moniker of “steamy juicy dumplings” in a little place in Dallas. I fell in love with them. A couple of years later, I read about the soup dumpling craze and thought to myself “I should try those”. That’s right, I didn’t make the connection that the trendy little dumplings I was reading about were the ones I’d already fallen in love with…that took me a couple more years.

    I’m hoping that the steamed-rib-glutinous-rice-yam concoction that I’ve fallen in love with hits it big next. At least then I’ll know what it’s real name is because the joint I visit doesn’t stand on the kind of formality that gives you real names.

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