PLAYING GAMES (Mahjong Dumplings)

SADLY, MAHJONG DUMPLINGS IS NOW CLOSED.

Most of the dumpling houses I’ve visited on my search for the best in the city are very modest non-English speaking places that have only been divulged to the world thanks to eager food bloggers like myself. The places in Chinatown, Flushing, and Sunset Park don’t have web sites or twitter accounts and some barely have phone numbers.

I’m pretty confident that won’t be the issue with Mahjong Dumplings, which just opened on the Upper East Side. It’s brought to us by the owners of neighborhood Mexican favorite Cascabel Taqueria and has already stirred quite a bit of media attention on Thrillist, Huffington Post, and Eater. So I don’t think the social media and hipster cred will be the problem here. I worry the issue will lie with the gimmicky concept and mediocre food.

If the overrated Meatball Shop can bring in the crowds with their single dish menu, then there is hope for Mahjong which takes the classic potsticker and stuffs it with whatever flavor combination and ethnic influences its culinary trained chef can dream up. However, Mahjong is not located on the Lower East Side and dumplings are not quite as unique in this city as meatballs. So I think they really have to play their tiles right for this concept to succeed.

As we entered Mahjong Dumplings, indie rock played over the speakers and American craft beers filled their drink list. The only hint of an Asian influence were the chopsticks on the table and the original Karate Kid screening on two flat screen televisions above. Not a single Asian employee in the house. And I learned that the chef is Israeli. I know there’s a big connection between the Jewish culture and Chinese food, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that one can pull off the other cuisine in the kitchen. Do you know any Chinese chefs making falafel or matzoh balls?

The menu, arbitrarily featured the Three Wise Monkeys as their mascot, and listed a handful of appetizers and a full page worth of dumpling options with some silly pop culture referenced monikers (like Run Forrest and Thai Mania). The waitress told us the dumplings are meant to be shared and that everything will be brought out as ready. She also let us know each $4.25 order yields only 3 dumplings. How is that meant to be shared? At least offer an even number of items to share. I think this place is asking for a food fight.

An appetizer dish of cucumber pickles was rather simple and tangy. It was a light vinegary pot of sliced cukes that were well on their way to being full-blown pickles, but instead served more as a crunchy gingery salad. It was enjoyable and tasty, but nothing I wouldn’t be able to make myself at home.

The dumplings came out of the kitchen and after some confusion between us, the food runner, and the table next to us, we finally got our correct order. At first the table next to us got our dumplings and when pressed, the employee didn’t know which dish item was which. I know they’ve only been open a few days, but you think the food runners could memorize a few menu items.

We started with the Boardwalk Crab, which were the only fried dumplings on the menu. They were stuffed with “Maryland-style peekytoe crab”. I’m not sure what “Maryland style” means but it lacked the rich meatiness I expect from true crab meat. The outside was deep fried (possibly breaded) and didn’t even resemble a potsticker. But rather a slightly burned toasted ravioli. The dish conjured images of that anglicized guilty pleasure of a takeout dish: crab rangoon. The light mustard aioli dipping sauce was anything but light and substituted for the usual cream cheese. Technically, these are dumplings but nothing I’ve ever seen at an authentic Chinese restaurant. On the plus side, they were not too greasy and tasted like decent bar food.

The other unique dumpling option was The Italian Job, a potsticker stuffed with a fennel sausage (more like a meatball) and topped with a gutbomb of parmesan cream and a hint of truffle oil. The flavor combination made sense and  I enjoyed the earthy meaty filling, but I found the cream sauce to be a little too gloopy and reminiscent of cafeteria food.

The Traditional Monkey, as the name suggests, were  the closest to the jiaozi I’ve been tasting at dollar dumpling spots downtown. But instead of 4 for a dollar, these were three for just over $4. They were stuffed with traditional pork and cabbage, although there wasn’t much filling at all. The stuffing that I did find was rather bland without any sense of Asian flavors. The only glimmer of hope was with the soy mirin sauce with red chilies. This also had no flavor. The sauce was very thin so it didn’t cling to the dumplings and must have been heavily diluted.

I also found the wrappers of all the dumplings (aside from the greasy fried one) to be sticky and terribly slippery. I couldn’t pick them up with my chopsticks unless I poked them because they kept slipping off. It was frustrating and annoying. And I am far from a novice at using chopsticks, thank you very much. This makes me think that the skins are bought packaged and then overcooked. It seems like they’re already cutting corners and have grand ideas of franchising and mass marketing. Slow down there, Mahjong.

I heard complaints as the baffled table next to us paid the bill and decided where they would go next to satiate their still grumbling stomachs. Turns out they were still hungry. And as I ate the last dumpling, I realized I fell victim to this too. We contemplated trying their fried banana dessert dumplings, but were told they would take 15 minutes to prepare. So we left rather hungry and disappointed. The dumplings were smaller than an appetizer portion so I imagine you’d need about 3 orders each to approach fullness.

The design, the menu, and even the name (what does the Asian tile game have to do with dumplings other than the cultural reference?) are all rather uninspired and lack focus. Too many kitschy elements are going on and none of them add up to a real destination. I’m no restaurateur and certainly no chef, but I feel like this concept would work much better if instead of forcing other cuisines into a Chinese concept, why not show how dumplings are universal and offer every cuisines’ true take on dumplings? You could have jiaozi, ravioli, pierogies, and samosas all on the same menu. Instead we get a little bit of Asian, a little bit of hipster, and just a little bit of flavor. But I bet they’ll have a killer website.

Does Mahjong Dumplings have the best dumplings in New York? They’re still working out all the kinks, but at this point they get a 5 out of 10 because the dumplings and the restaurant are too chaotic and lack much unique flavor.