

It’s an absolute must if you want to experience the meal in its full cacophonous glory, or if you’re looking for hard-to-find offal cuts. This is a west-side staple, and one of the oldest dim sum services in town. Overall: As Cantonese-style cooking has waned in the Valley, Great Wall Cuisine in Phoenix has bucked the trend.

A coconut bun was only vaguely coconutty, and a pineapple bun was more airy than sweet. You Can Skip: Desserts were a little disappointing on a recent visit.

Duck tongue leans more neutral in flavor, so mostly you’ll taste the Maggi sauce, a dark, deeply savory and salty sauce that looks a lot like Worcestershire. Some people love eating the soft bone, but you can also just eat around it. Spit out the small bones and move on to the remaining joints and toes.Īnother delicacy available at Great Wall: duck tongue, a texture-rich treat that is slightly chewy and fatty, with a thin piece of soft cartilage that runs up the middle of the tongue. To eat them, simply bite off a piece of the foot and suck off the cartilage and skin. They are commonly served in round metal steamers, usually found on the same cart where you get your dumplings. It pairs well with nearly every other dish you’re bound to come across.īraised chicken feet (also known as Phoenix claws) are good here - gelatinous and packed with lots of gingery, chile pepper-laced flavor. Don’t skip the house sticky rice, which comes wrapped in a lotus leaf. Keep an eye out for pai gwat (spare ribs), pale in color, very tender, and served in a rich, aromatic sauce. Arrive early (around 10 a.m.) on the weekend, especially Sundays, if you want to avoid waiting for a table.īe Sure to Try: Highlights at Great Wall include classics like siu mai, steamed pork and shrimp dumplings, which are well-seasoned and deliriously juicy. Groups are accommodated with large tables equipped with lazy susans, while scruffy booths hold smaller parties.

The cavernous dining room is dimly lit, with the airs of a fading Chinese banquet hall. Don’t let that stop you from heading inside, though. The Vibe: Great Wall is located in a ramshackle west-side strip mall that looks like it’s seen better days. While there are no strict courses in dim sum, you’ll want to start any dim sum brunch with a pot of hot tea - chrysanthemum, oolong, and jasmine are tried-and-true favorites. Tipping is not included, so be sure to add it to the final total. Most dishes come with three or four small servings, and are generally priced between $2 to $6. Some tips for first-timers: Dim sum is served family-style, and a group of three or four seems to be the optimum number if your goal is to sample as many dishes as possible. You’ll find most of the essential dim sum dishes around town, and with regional Chinese cooking blossoming in the southeast Valley, there’s hope that more dim sum will eventually come our way. In metro Phoenix, the dim sum pickings are slim for a city of this size, and the local dim sum scene doesn’t yet offer what you might find in other big cities - amenities like ultra-cheap dim sum takeout shops, or restaurants with more modern formats, including placemat pictograph menus that have started to replace the iconic dim sum carts.ĭim sum in metro Phoenix leans more traditional, but that’s not necessarily a knock. It’s most closely identified with Hong Kong, the dim sum capital of the world, where the format that we recognize today first took shape in the 1950s. The “Chinese brunch” tradition of dim sum originated in southern China, in Guangdong (formerly Canton) province. You probably already know that dim sum refers to a type of meal, one most often enjoyed on the weekends, featuring a roster of bite-sized dishes that are enjoyed with tea. If you, like my friend, have reached adulthood without partaking in the culinary free-for-all that is a dim sum service, it’s time to acquaint (or maybe re-acquaint) yourself with the small but lively dim sum scene in metro Phoenix. She’s in love, she says, with everything about this loud and happy scene: the bottomless cups of hot tea the shrimp dumplings bulging from their dewy wrappers even the wobbly, slippery hunks of fried tofu that she can’t quite pick up with her plastic chopsticks. Her eyes are glued to the silver serving cart that’s rolling by our table, trailing puffs of shrimp-scented steam into the air. “It’s like a buffet that comes to you!” We’ve just been seated for dim sum service at Mesa’s Mekong Palace Restaurant, and my friend, a dim sum newbie, can hardly contain her excitement.
