Dim Sumday...maybe someday

What real shu maai should look like--in all of its pork filled, shrimp stuffed goodness

Roughly 11am EST, any given Sunday; if I were back in Toronto I would likely be waking up around now, still dazed and dreary eyed from the previous nights festivities, but with the knowledge  that no matter how debilitating the hangover, how foggy or fragile the state of my mind--this is a day of promise.



I am hardly a creature if habbit. Yet, in my wildly sporatic life there is one, nearly unfettered, tradition that comes in the form of many dumplings, both fried and steamed, loads of pork, heaps of sticky rice and more chili sauce than a man with a gastric condition should reasonably consume. Coordinating a crew of two or a few too many is never an issue for this feast of kings. And the chili sauce is sure to burn a hole through your esophagus before the price ever burns one through your pocket.

The Sky Dragon at Spadina and Dundas in Toronto: my second home

One would assume that in a country so close to China, there would be little effort needed to find a bustling brunch spot packed with hungry heads turning in near-full revolutions to catch the cart-lady with the shu maai and har gow or char sui baaw, but after two months of questions, directions, and an unsettling amount of disappointment, I have been without my favorite and most coveted eating tradition since my arrival in Korea.

It is days like today that I long for you, my love. A Sunday is hardly a Sunday without Dim Sum.

The closest thing I've found to Dim Sum in Korea is this pitiful, freeze-packed, likely microwaved poo-poo platter of plastic looking excuses for my most favourite of foods. Quite frankly, the bogus presentation is unnecessarily insulting.