Lemongrass (Warwick, RI)

 

It's a testament to the connection between man and food, taste and sense, the human transcendence of the collective meal. When we eat dumplings, we are all one. And when we are all one, we eat dumplings.

Cut to Lemongrass, a small Asian cuisine gem with a supple raw bar and a wont for dumplings. The insider's tip to eating here is that the dim sum is not on the appetizer menu, and from there, the average dumpling adventurer might be discouraged. But fear not! You must ask for the fried pork dumplings behind closed doors and in a whisper, and they will provide you the spoils of good eating. Or, you could just ask them to deliver over the phone, which is what we did.

Only mere minutes later did these beautiful puppies show up at our doorstep, ready to be consumed by family. The dumplings were sweet and salty, cooked almost to perfection and with a dip of soy sauce they simply melted in your mouth. And I must admit that for several moments I was taken to another dimension.

What brought me back to earth was the small hints of unperfection - a stray herb in the presentation and a bite of one dumpling that resulted in a disappointing volume of pork and goodness.

And yet, we arrive at my recommendation: which is that while following E and I around the world on our Transcontinental Dumpling Adventure, you must stop in Warwick, Rhode Island, for the momentary bliss.

4 out of 5 stars.

Until next time,

Tyuck!

Super No. 1 (Kapa'a, HI)

Ahh, Hawaii. So majestic. Known most for its pristine beaches, beautiful sunsets, and clear waters. But where there is people, there is food. Kauai is the northernmost island of the main Hawaiian island chain, and only 60,000 permanent residents reside here. You can get the fresh ono, ahi, kalua pig, or taro. Or you can seek out the dumplings.

To find them, you'll go to the old town of Kapa'a, to a little plaza across from the shell station, where Super No. 1 keeps food steaming in tin foil baking dishes. They have an assortment of rices, sweet and sour chicken, and veggies. Now let's get down to the reason we're all here today, the dumplings.

First of all, dumplings are not on the menu. You have to ask for them, and they'll either steam or pan fry and of course, if you're a true dumpling connoisseur you'll order pan fried. In Hawaii you should expect to pay about two to three times mainland prices for just about everything. A gallon of milk will run you eight dollars. A loaf of bread will be six. Expect to pay 9 dollars a pound for organic chicken. Getting hosed is the name of the game here. But it comes with all of the aloha you could ever want. At Super No. 1, a plate of eight dumplings cost 4.65, which is a total steal. Gas out here once cost 4.65 a gallon when the rest of the country was buying it for three. So when they told me I could get eight dumplings for 4.65 I would have been a mad man to say no.

The dumplings arrived in a plastic container, which I've grown accustomed to in the dumpling world, but am against in general due to the nonrecyclable waste it produces. So where they had me at 4.65, they lost me at plastic container and plastic forks. The dumplings came out hot and just a little brown. At first glance, they were impressive. They had a good body, full arrangement, and the soy sauce looked packed with herbs and spices. However, the first bite proved that all was too good to be true. The fried garlic in the pork was way overpowering - I might even say the garlic was burnt- and the dough was just a little too thin for my liking. The soy sauce was tasty, but the dumpling had to soak in it to assuage the overpowering garlic. Although the dumplings were a total steal at their price, I give them a safe rating right in the middle.

2.5 out of 5 stars for Super No 1. on Kauai.

Until next time my dumpling loving peeps.

Oh, and follow me on instagram @tyucktyuck where I will begin posting dope dumpling photos along with my other bidness.

Tyuck!