The contents of this blog are matters of opinion formed over one more visits. There has been some artistry applied and metaphors and similes should not necessarily be taken literally. All meals are independently paid for - the author has no conflicts of interest to disclose.
I went a little off script and bought us xiao long bao from a brand that isn’t the one that we have for years established that my wife loves. These are the pork & crab meat soup dumpling 冷凍鮮美蟹肉小籠包 from Synear 思念, which was obviously always going to be a problem because it’s rare for her to have a seafood and enjoy it.
The instructions on the box were clearly written in English. I scalded my right forearm as I was placing them into the steamer and had to run my arm under water for 15 minutes – the perfect time to cook these XLBs and then let them cool a little before eating.
I did not have any particular adverse feelings about these xiao long bao, though my wife had one and immediately did not want to have any more. They didn’t taste extremely crabby to me, though I did think there was some particulate matter inside them, kind of in the texture of a thin prawn shell (though it must have been something else, as this is not in the ingredients list).
Would I buy again? As a single man, maybe. But as a husband of a woman who hates them, no.
Whilst Xibei (西贝餐饮), one of China’s largest restaurant chains is embroiled in a nationwide scandal involving the overreliance of pre-packaged, frozen, and parcooked ingredients in their restaurants, I have no problem enjoying their deeply and obviously and intentionally pre-prepared roujiamo.
I found this microwave, airfry, and eat roujiamou at a local Chinese grocery store a couple of months ago, before all the controversy. It is made by Xibei’s 西贝 放心早餐 divison, focused on heat-and-eat breakfast foods. This particular roujiamo (酥皮腊汁肉夹馍), purchased for around $6, was really good.
The filling is advertised as having greater than 50% meat by mass, and encompassing a mixture of 30% fatty and 70% lean meat. Both these claims appear likely to be true, as I found the filling to be both meaty and tasty, with the other 50% made up of spices, capsicum, chillies, and other vegetables.
The mixture of the fatty and lean pork was excellent, producing a melt-in-your-mouth texture whilst retaining a degree of bite and chewiness.
The pastry, cooked in the prescribed method of microwave then airfry, was thin, crispy, and not at all too bready – more than can be said for some of the lesser restaurant roujiamos I’ve had and reviewed on this blog.
I honestly think this $6 roujiamo is superior to a good number of restaurant alternatives, and would not be that offended if it were served in one.
Sadly on a subsequent return to the grocery store this was nowhere to be found.
Straight off the heels of having tried the Chive and Egg Dumplings from Ruyee, here are my brief thoughts on their Golden Potstickers with Chives Egg and Dried Shrimp (黃金鍋貼 韭菜鸡蛋虾皮). Dedicated readers do not have to fear, for these quickly jotted down thoughts will not interrupt the usual posting schedule.
These are clearly smaller than the previously reviewed egg and chive pockets. The photo on the packet has them being cooked still stuck together as a batch, though they did not come this stuck together in the packaging.
Though the supermarket I brought them from advertised them as chive, egg, and prawn, I could not appreciate any prawn whilst eating them, and a subsequent a close reading of the packaging revealed that the prawn was only dried prawn.
I’m open to any suggestions about how to de-carbonise the sides of my stainless steel cookware. Barkeeper’s friend doesn’t get rid of all of it, so often I find it’s less drama to just use carbon steel.
All faffing aside, these were only fine. The wrapper to filling ratio I felt was weaker than that of the ‘pockets’, and given the choice of the two I would choose those instead.
Ruyee Golden Potstickers with Chives Egg and Dried Shrimp (黃金鍋貼 韭菜鸡蛋虾皮) 9369999096892
I truly cannot believe how terrible this is. It is so dry and crumbly, too sweet, similar in quality to Ülker Halley’s (Turkish) variant, and overall inferior to both competing choco pie products from Orion and Lotte.
The worst part was that I had to buy a whole bag of them. 10 for $6, even more expensive than Lotte, and coming close to Orion prices.
The Chinese domestic market simply cannot compete in some regards, which explains why I’ve never seen this in Australia before now, and will never buy it again.