(Bloomberg) -- The Taiwanese dumpling chain Din Tai Fung has one of the food world’s more devoted fan bases worldwide. But after attending the recent preview of its very first restaurant in New York City I feel the need to assert bragging rights: I’ve now eaten at 18 of the Taiwanese chain’s eateries, in 10 countries and on four continents, over the span of three decades. Scoff if you like, but those stats count for a lot in the global community of DTF devotees, whose numbers are sure to swell rapidly in my own city, now that it hosts the chain’s biggest restaurant.
The 25,000 square foot space can accommodate 450 diners at a time, and the chain’s reputation for fast and efficient service means it should be able to feed four-figure crowds. Every day. Since it’s on Broadway, a stone’s throw from Times Square, out-of-towners will be heavily represented in the clientele.
It’s a safe bet that many of them will have eaten at one of the family-owned chain’s restaurants — there are over 180 locations worldwide. They may do a double-take upon entering DTF NYC: It looks and feels very different from the brightly-lit, simply-adorned spaces that are the chain’s signature elsewhere.
The Broadway eatery is, appropriate to its location, a theatrical experience. You enter through a glass cube at street level and descend one level by a spiral staircase into a luxurious, softly-lit dining room. The large space is offset by well-appointed alcoves with bamboo partitions that provide a patina of privacy and cane lamps that would not look out of place in one of Beijing’s five-star hotels. There’s even a luxe bar, serving high-end spirits and interesting cocktails like an Old Fashioned made with Taiwanese whiskey and Oolong tea syrup.
Like the cocktail, the sumptuousness is a nod to the setting. “It’s New York… there are different cultural expectations of ambiance here,” says Aaron Yang, one of two brothers who represent the third generation of the family that owns the chain.
Probably, the most striking concession to New York’s dining culture, especially for veterans like me, is the availability of reservations. In almost every DTF worldwide, you turn up, have your name taken at the entrance and then wait, sometimes for upwards of an hour, for your number to flash on an electronic signboard. Yang says that, a few months after the launch, the Broadway restaurant will be able to accommodate some walk-ins. When that happens, be patient. (If it’s any consolation, I once saw Bill Gates in a long queue at the DTF in Seattle.)
But you’ve been impatiently waiting to hear about the food. Happily, the most important thing about DTF is unchanged at the New York location: The signature soup dumplings known as xiao long bao, or XLB to the cognoscenti. These hand-made, ping pong-ball sized delicacies are available with three kinds of fillings: Kurobuta pork, a crab-and-pork combo, and chicken. By DTF’s exacting standards, each dumpling must conform to the so-called “golden ratio”: the dough skin must come together in a crown of precisely 18 folds.
You add a little vinegar, soy sauce and tendrils of ginger, and pop a dumpling whole into your mouth. (Some DTF experts will first poke a hole in the wrapper to release the juices and slightly cool the hot broth; I am not one of them.) The slightest pressure causes it to explode, releasing a soup that is three parts umami and one part salt. The perfectly seasoned meat filling (my preference is always for the straight pork version) is tender, and goes down with a couple of chews.
There’s plenty else on the menu, from sweet-and-sour baby back ribs and spicy wontons to braised beef noodle soup. Some fans swear by the chocolate and mochi dumplings. As a diabetic who eschews desserts, I can’t tell whether this departure from tradition lives up to the hype, but everyone around me seemed to love it.
For me, it is enough that DTF NYC has the XLB: What a luxury it is to have the world’s greatest dumplings just a few subway stops from home.
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