HITTING THE SAUCES (Rickshaw Dumpling Bar)

SADLY, RICKSHAW DUMPLING BAR IS NOW CLOSED.

Generally, the proper sauces to apply to Northern style Chinese dumplings are soy vinegar for some salty sweetness and sriracha for heat and more heat. Some spots (like Excellent Dumpling House) make their own dumpling sauce usually with a bit of both of these. Other newer more hip places (like Dumpling Man) include those staples on the table, but also offer creative sauce concoctions with green curry or coconut milk. Rickshaw Dumpling, which years ago I might have said were my favorite dumplings in the city, has seven different types of dumplings and does a sauce pairing with each one. It’s a far cry from wine pairing at Del Posto, but it’s the same idea.

Anita Lo used to be the chef here when it opened on 23rd Street (quite a ways from Chinatown) in 2006. Since then, she has re-focused on her fine dining restaurant Annisa (which serves foie gras dumplings) and racked up the television appearances (Top Chef: Masters, etc.). So she is no longer a partner in the dumpling bar; or the truck which now roams throughout the city for lunch. Which may be part of the reason this place has been on a steady decline. It’s been years since I stopped in for some lunch, but I remember it has never been as good as my first time. It never is, is it?

Rickshaw has undergone a few more changes since I was here last. They no longer offer their dumplings fried, which surprised me. I do prefer the healthier and lighter feel of steamed dumplings but fried dumplings are possibly the most popular Chinese street food. I can only imagine steaming the dumplings is easier and cheaper and maybe because of that this restaurant has begun to feel more and more like a budding fast food chain.

I was pleasantly surprised when the girl behind the register told me they could put together a sampler platter of all their dumplings – they offer seven different varieties. This was never a possibility in the past when I wanted to try all they offered. The only way to do that in the past was to order a single dumpling. If that was allowed, I never understood why it wasn’t possible to make a combination plate. I imagine it had something do with money.

And speaking of money, these might be the most expensive dumplings in the city at close to a dollar per dumpling. The seven cost me $10 and I can only imagine that I was paying for the sauce as well since each dumpling has its unique dipping sauce and I got a full container of each. It felt like the dumpling version of a wine pairing except the food was served in plastic containers and the aesthetics were much closer to McDonald’s then Daniel.

The dumplings were laid out next to their respective sauce and I assumed, for flavor and progression, I should work my way down the line. So I started with the most authentic Chinese dumpling: the Classic Pork. It had a filling of cabbage, ginger, and scallions (aside from the pork, of course) and was served with that most famous of dumpling dips: soy sesame sauce. I found the filling to be rather flavorless and the wrapper to have a rubbery consistency. The sauce was bland despite the saltiness and didn’t really help the dumpling in any way.

Second was their most popular (and my favorite in the past), the Chicken & Thai Basil. The textures inside were as fun as I remember with fragile glass noodles, crunchy carrots, and a citrusy sprig of lemongrass. The spicy peanut sauce may have been a bit too rich, but helped bring all the flavors and textures to life. It only suffered from the same problem as all the dumplings here, a dry chewy wrapper.

The Szechuan Chicken had a strange bready quality inside (perhaps from the white soy beans) and any flavor was overwhelmed by the aggressive spiciness of the chili soy sauce. I missed much rich, gaminess from the Peking Duck dumpling, but the cloyingly sweet hoisin sauce did help bring out some of the flavors if it was rather saccharine on its own.

I’m not sure that the crustaceans inside the Shrimp dumplings had been been deveined because I saw dirty black streaks on the meat. The flavor reflected that with a strange earthiness, which was only saved by the clean spicy flavors of the creamy wasabi sauce. The newest addition to their dumpling family is the Kimchi Beef, which consisted of a sweet and spicy meatball with some nice funky Korean flavors. The sauce served was named “Mimi dip” and its bright coral pink color and sugary mayo base resembled a certain burger chain’s secret sauce.

The meal came to a close with the Vegetarian Edamame. A pulpy edamame puree filled a grainy whole wheat wrapper. The two flavors together sucked all the moisture out of my mouth and while the light lemon sansho sauce imparted some flavor, it was so salty that it made me visit the water station three times to re-hydrate myself. If only the meal concluded with a tasting of their Chocolate Soup Dumplings, I might have left with a little more flavor on my lips and felt I got my money’s worth.

All the dumplings suffered from the same lukewarm, generic wrapper. The fillings were hit and miss with some working really well with the sauce. It’s obvious a chef was involved somewhere down the line in the creation of these flavors, but now it truly feels that the cooks (none of whom were even Asian on my visit) are just following a very specific guide book.

As it stands now, Rickshaw has a foothold on the possibilty of a fast food dumpling franchise, but in terms of flavor, is not even in the running with the likes of the authentic Chinese dumpling houses in Chinatown. For the same price as the food here, I could ride the subway downtown and back, order my fill of dumplings, and still have change leftover. But truth is, I would only get two predictable sauces. But when it works, it works.

Does Rickshaw Dumpling Bar have the best dumplings in NY? I appreciate the different, creative fillings but the wrappers are thin, dry and uninspired and the sauces only work part of the time. 5 out of 10.