Tea and treats are a taste of China in Roseville

By Eleanor Ostman

Dim Sum in Cantonese translates to “Touch the Heart.” These tidbits, traditionally served with tea, touch the tummy, too. The little mouthfuls, stuffed with tasty fillings, are addictive. There’s always room for another morsel, so keep them coming.

I’ve eaten dim sum on my many trips to China, where those in the kitchens spend a lifetime perfectly pleating dumplings. Hong Kong is the kingdom of dim sum dining, not classified as a meal. More likely, it is an afternoon teatime experience, but eat too many and dinner becomes optional.

Closer to home, San Francisco is a dim sum destination. The Hong Kong Tea House is one of my favorites. The first time my husband and I were there, the first dough-covered bun we chose from a cart rolling by proved to be centered with delicious barbecued pork. Another cart approached and it looked like the same BBQ treat, so we flagged down the waitress. One bite proved you never know what’s inside.  It was bean paste. After that, we asked questions before accepting a plateful.

But you don’t have to take a flight to experience dim sum. Just go to Pagoda in a strip mall off Fairview and County Road B2, adjacent to Bob’s Furniture and Total Wine. Pagoda migrated there after 14 years in Dinkytown, Minneapolis.

I went on a Thursday night with my neighbors Joni and Raye. Joni and I had been to Pagoda previously for dim sum. It was totally new to Raye, but he caught on quickly. A trio of eaters is the ideal number: most dim sum choices arrive in threes, tucked in metal steamers.

Except for Mondays when Pagoda is closed, dim sum is available daily. So is an extensive menu of traditional Chinese dishes, so varied one wonders how the kitchen can turn out such an array. We focused only on the dim sum list, choosing eight varieties. We had favorites, and one or two that we didn’t love. But how do you know?

By tradition, tea must be poured first. We chose Jasmine, sipped while waiting to have our hearts touched. In a sudden flurry, containers arrived in no particular order. The first was fried shrimp egg roll, a finger-sized crunchy Chinese version of egg roll with just a hint of filling. For all of us who have become devotees of plump Vietnamese egg rolls, it was a disappointment. Give it a miss.

But then things went uphill. The courteous way to eat dim sum is to take just one from a container and put it on your plate. Eat that choice before selecting another.

We savored classic chicken and shrimp sui mai, tucked into dough cases, and steamed vegetable dumplings. I was a bit surprised that the steamed pork soup dumplings had no soup in them, as did ones eaten in China, where broth dribbles down your chin at first bite. Black pepper beef short ribs were rather tough, but earnestly seasoned.

Looking for a veggie, we checked the box on the menu for Chinese broccoli in oyster sauce. I’ve often seen the long and rather stringy greenery on China trips, and when I asked what it was, the invariable answer was “Chinese vegetable.” With oyster sauce, Pagoda’s version was tasty, though chewy.

Topping our favorites list were deep fried blobs of sticky rice filled with a trace of chicken and pork, resembling mini-footballs, sweet and crunchy. Delicious. And of course my go-to dim sum, steamed barbecued pork buns. I could eat them by the dozen, since I experienced them on my first China trip in 1979, where, for a dime, I bought one from a street vendor who cooked it over fire in a 55-gallon drum.

Pagoda serves dim sum from carts on Saturdays and Sundays, all-you-can eat for $40.

Probably a good deal if you have a hearty appetite. Our eight choices, plus tea, tax and tip, totaled $90.78 and filled us up. No room for a custard bun dessert.

For a different experience, Mandarin Kitchen in Bloomington is worth a trip on weekends. It’s as close to a Hong Kong-style dim sum palace that you’ll get to in the Twin Cities, and there’s always a line. Here’s a tip: fight your way inside to put your name on the list before getting in the queue.

When you finally get a table, focus on carts rumbling by, filled with dizzying choices. The bill quickly rises if you order wildly. Be sure to ask what’s inside all those tidbits to make sure it isn’t bean paste.

Pagoda, 2401 Fairview Avenue #133. 612-378-4710