Paddyfields, Hyth Bridge Street, Oxford

A stalwart of Chinese food in Oxford, Paddyfields is a fairly authentic restaurant next to the only Chinese supermarket in Oxford.  This isn't exactly true, but Jing Jing on Cowley Road has a entirely different selection of produce.

The haunt of tour busses full of Chinese visitors who cannot face local cuisine that challenges their sensitive palates, it also caters for students (all you can eat menus can't be bad) and locals who fill the restaurant on weekends.

We were one of those latter, this Sunday past, as we wanted to indulge in yum cha/dim sum, and Liaison was too much trouble to get to.

Service was perfunctory as always, which is fine if you know that's just the norm; you don't tend to go to Chinese restaurants for service. It is almost a badge of honour to serve excellent food with short, sharp, sometimes violent, service.

Paddyfields is good, and sometimes very good, but most of the time it is mediocre.  Quite aside from the service, the food is some of the most hit-and-miss we have come across.

This particular Sunday was one of the better, but far from best, days.

Har gow, that staple, were enormous, crunchy full of prawns, and this time just slightly over.  Sometimes the wrapper falls apart quicker than England in a World Cup, and this time it was just acceptable, but the filling was bland from the frozen filling and bordering on mealy from being left on the steamer for just too long.  It's a shame that the items can't be steamed for just the right duration; it makes all the difference, even if the filling is frozen rather than fresh.

Cheung fen were fine, with quite thick wrappers, and the same frozen prawns filling the dumplings.  Always better than no cheung fen, but not as good as decent cheung fen.

The siu mai were excellent, and we had double portions.  It was one of the best dishes we had this time, with bouncy and sweet chopped pork enveloped by wonton wrappers.

Fen zhao (chicken fet) were fine, but nothing to write home about.  Warm, not hot, and tasty but not excellent.  Ho hum.

I am sure you are now sick of hearing the washy washy review of what we were served.  Why did we stay if it were so mediocre, and why do we return?  

Pork buns, lotus rice, and chive dumplings all follow the previous prescription, and so does this entire post.

It's worth going to this Sunday ritual,and it's worth putting up with the lack lustre food.  It's not nearly as good as what these dishes should be, and below minimum expectations, but it is still better than no dim sum.

To sum up, we were served two dishes we did not order, which were taken away with apologies, and we weren't served three dishes we did order, which were taken off the bill with apologies.  We had to ask for water for our tea, and dishes arrived sporadically.

All of this sounds like a disaster which we should not recommend, but it is one of the few options for yum cha/dim sum in Oxford, and by no means the worst, and so we return.

Take from that what you will.  Lunch for two usually £30 or so, and for four this time just over £50.  But we are greedy; you can eat well for less.  The staff are really friendly, despite inattention, and we do appreciate that.

A return to Inn Noodle - Bayswater

Inn Noodle
106 Queensway
London
W2 3RR



Having previously mistaken the place as being called 'Noodle Inn' (a far more sensible name), we return to Inn Noodle with the fabulous V in tow on a wet spring evening. Wine was on the cards, and probably shenanigans too. Definitely shenanigans.



Orders took a while to arrive, which mattered not, as we had much to catch up and understandable as there was a long queue for takeaways by the door. A's only adamant choice was the gai lan sauteed with garlic. This was almost perfect, with a sweet crunch and soft wilted leaves, the dish could only have been improved by having garlic cooked with it, instead of being topped with the pre-fried garnish. Not even close to haute cuisine, but why should it be? This is probably the most delicious way to inject green into your day.



Having texted V earlier in the evening to let her know of our imminent arrival, she had responded: "you know I have a one tracked mind", further inquiry on what that track might be, elicited: "prawns!"

Ok, in a 'real' restaurant with table cloths and menus without photos, I might have quibbled about the prawns in chili and garlic. A certainly didn't care for the slightly doughy batter, and we wondered if the gluten to starch ratio was too high. However, for a simple eatery, the prawns were big, tasty, and doused in fiery fried chili: grease+salt+spice = happy.




Wontons in vinegar/soy and chili oil. Delicious. These were actually incredibly good wontons, and superior to the ones we tried at the excellent Baozi Inn.



The highlight of the evening (overshadowing even the effervescent V), was the Cantonese roast duck. Not realising there was a choice, we received the boned version. Ever a gnawer of bones, I was disappointed to be deprived of my usual entertainment, and doubly so when I tasted the duck. The meat was plump and juicy, and tasted of soft yielding duckiness. The skin was crisp, oh so crunchy, with a melting layer of fat below. The soy sauce was savoury and salty, but balanced the sweetness perfectly. This is, without doubt, the single best Cantonese duck I have had in the UK so far, since I moved over in 2003.



Some shanghai siu mai, just out of interest. Unlike the yum cha cousin, the filling is made with glutinous rice. This version wasn't like mum's; the filling was almost entirely rice, soaked in sauce. Good, but not great.



Pot stickers - like the wontons, the filling was exceptional. The wrapper was thick, but in a good way, holding together the filling and a pocket of juice akin to xiao long bao - soup dumplings. We actually queried whether these were pot stickers or simply jiao zi, as no evidence of frying was apparent. On the underside (not pictured), a light brown surface had been achieved, but not to our satisfaction.



The damage: an eclectic selection of the weird and wonderful for distraction while chatting to a good friend. Add a bottle of wine and it came just shy of £50 for three. Given that the local pub in Bayswater (a horrible place) was charging close to £20 for house wine, this seems like a pretty good deal. Plus, the duck can't be praised enough.

Sea Palace - Amsterdam

Sea Palace

Oosterdokskade 8
1011 AE Amsterdam, Netherlands



One of the first things we saw, as we looked for our hotel, was the astounding floating palace across the main canal.



The Sea Palace is a truly awe-inspiring sight. Built in a very traditional Chinese style - seating over several floors rather being totally open plan - the restaurant seats up to 700 guests over three floors. Nowhere else in Europe have I seen such a grand undertaking.



So why are we sitting in a Chinese restaurant in Amsterdam, when I espouse all the virtues of eating local, when visiting new places? Well, being weary from travel, and hedonistic - bordering on noisome - revelry, we deserved a little respite, and plus it was my birthday. It's my birthday and I can eat dim sum if I want to.



The menu contains what one grows to expect, with a few Hong Kong favourites that aren't often seen in the UK, such as water-chestnut jelly, and peppers stuffed with fish paste.



Pots of steaming Jasmin came and went. Our cups even had doilies. How cute.



Spying on what the other tables are ordering. This place is immense.



Most, if not all, Chinese restaurants seem to give you: good value for money; good food; good service; good presentation; but you may choose at most two. We would like to report that Sea Palace provided three, with presentation sadly lagging far behind.



Prawn cheung fen. The sheets of starch was delicate and thin, filled with very fresh prawns. The taste was superb, although the sauce was just a smidgen too heavy for the lightness of the dish. Utterly delicious, but looks like somebody had peed on it.



Taro croquettes. Ethereal, crisp, filled with a creamy and tasty pork-based filling. Although the insides were like molten lava, the silken strands of crisp fried taro lovingly cradled around the filling wasn't greasy. The chef had drained the croquettes well but not allowed them to get cold.



Pork siu mai were large, flavoursome, bouncy, and filled generously with giant and very fresh prawns. These were a positive delight, and superior to anything found in Chinatown in London.



The feng zhao were well prepared with a gelatinous mouth-feel that makes or breaks the dish. Well seasoned, but not quite as falling-off-the-bone as we have had at Imperial China.



Taste: 9/10. Presentation... we reserve comment.



Ox tripe. There are (at least) two types of tripe from beef. The usual one found is honeycomb, which tends to cook into a gelatinous mush; we opted for the other type, which cooks to a surprisingly crunchy texture and has a less intense flavour. This was one of the best preparations I've had, with a slightly softer bite (a tribute to the cooking time), and a lovely stewed sauce.



It looks pale and bland, but was incredibly savoury and flavoursome.



Steamed ribs. However I try, I cannot recreate this at home. The rib tips being cut to no more than a cm square, doused in a wine sauce and steamed with black beans. Utterly delicious.



Peppers stuffed with fish paste. In a previous life, I used to order this regularly, but since the UK, it's not been sighted on menus.



Although officially it's fish paste, the ingredients are actually the same as the fish balls one finds in Chinese supermarkets everywhere. This incarnation was slightly disappointing, with the pepper not quite charred enough to have softened sufficiently, nor giving off that gorgeous sweet aroma that cooked peppers can have. The dish was also slightly cold by the time it had reached us.



The view from our corner window seat was staggering. With almost 180 degree views of the waterfront, on such a frosty but sunny day, there couldn't have been many better spots to sit in Amsterdam.

Service was prompt, courteous and mostly efficient - not something I associate with Chinese food. The food was exemplary, and if were a local, I would definitely choose a table to call my own.



The damage: €32.10 for 8 very generously sized dishes, and two servings of tea. Approximately £30 due to the British economy going down the gurgler, but compared with our recent misery at Yo! Sushi, this was a definite bargain. If you're in the neighbourhood, run there now. I mean you, yes you, run, right now.

Cafe Opium - Yum Cha

Cafe Opium
67-69 George Street
Oxford
OX1 2BQ
01865 248680



A cold Monday saw us craving that which used to be frequent, but in which we hadn't indulged for far too long: yum cha.


The sign from the now-defunct Opium Den.

Back to Cafe Opium for lunch on Monday, and we were surprised by the peace and tranquility. Only three tables of two were occupied.





The restaurant is actually quite capacious, and well presented. It's a shame that business is so slow at this time of year.



The requisite cups of Jasmin tea came in big mugs, which is highly unusual for Chinese restaurants. This meant that the water cooled more slowly, making it difficult to drink. It also lacked the finesse of small gulps of hot tea, and somehow detracts from the delicacy of eating dim sum. Surprisingly, with refills, they brought out hot water in traditional tea pots. Go figure.



Lovely, lovely chilli oil dipping sauce. Filled with shallots, dried shrimp, and spicy goodness.



Starting with the usual suspects: the har gau (虾饺 - miniature prawn dumplings wrapped in wheat starch wrappers) were incredibly fresh. In fact, the 15-20 minute wait on the kitchen, which had me worried about making it back to work on time, must have been spent assembling the dishes from scratch, instead of the usual pre-frozen or long-refrigerated stock. These were definitely not left over from the weekend, as the prawns had a delicate sweetness and bounce to the bite, and the wrappers were suitably thin but chewy, and flavoured from the juices of the filling.



The handiwork was not as delicate as some places can be, but I've found that Opium Den can be inconsistent. Perhaps in pushing this order out, they went for a rougher, larger plait.



The siu mai (烧卖 - a pork and prawn filled dumpling that uses an ultra-thin wonton like pasta wrapper made from wheat and egg) had the nice bounce and chew of a well made Chinese meatball. Topped with a wolf berry (or goji berry, if you are looking for it in a poncy 'health food' store), these were larger than the average dumpling in most restaurants. One often finds crab roe as the colour contrast on these dumplings, so the goji berries were a bit of a cheat, but added a faint sweetness. The filling is usually made by roughly chopping pork by hand, and mixing in a little chopped prawn to add flavour and texture contrast. The mixture is beaten with water and a little starch to make it juicy when steamed. The chopped pork has a tender, but bouncy texture, very different from minced or ground meat.



The feng zhao (鳳爪 - chicken feet, often in a bbq-esque sauce) were very nice. Gelatinous, but with enough bite not to run off the bone, these were well flavoured with the sweet sauce that is usually described as 'BBQ', but is in fact a mixture of oyster, hoisin and soy sauces. Not the best that I've ever had, but no complaints for this yum cha must-have.



The pan fried turnip paste (萝卜糕 - a paste made from starch and grated Chinese white turnip, flavoured with Chinese sausage, dried shrimp, Chinese mushrooms, and other dried umami-enhancers, steamed until solidified, sliced and then pan-fried) was very well done. Because of the delicacy of the paste, many places will douse it with oil before frying, to ensure that it does not stick. This was crispy without a hint of grease, and the specs of dried meat and shrimp added bursts of flavour without overwhelming the paste itself. The crispy coat was the perfect foil to the soft unctuousness both in the paste itself, and the other dim sum items.



The pork ribs, which is not an item I tend to order, was well flavoured and had that little bit of chewiness that rib-meat tends to retain, which makes the bursts of flavour more intense when chewing.



The prawn cheung fun (肠粉 - a thick but very light sheet pasta made from steamed wheat starch, usually rolled around a filling of prawn, pork or beef, and doused in a sweet soy-based sauce) was the weakest link. The cheung fun itself was slightly thicker than I would prefer it, meaning the sauce that clung to the surface wasn't quite able to add enough flavour to the starch. The starch itself is all about texture, and has little flavour other than a slightly floury note. The prawns in the filling tasted old, which is surprising given how nice the prawn dumplings were.



The final dish that came was the nuo mi ji (糯米鸡 - literally glutinous rice chicken, is a parcel of sticky rice with a meat filling (usually chicken, Chinese bacon and sausage, Chinese mushrooms) doused in a sweet-savoury sauce, wrapped in lotus leaves and then steamed. The lotus leaf adds considerable flavour to the rice). The portions were small, and so the rice-to-filling ratio was difficult to judge. The filling should not spill out of the rice, nor should it be non-existent; in this case, it was ample by ratio to the rice, but anaemic by most standards. One of the best incarnations I have eaten used pieces of wing in the filling; the bone adding robust chicken flavours, which just goes to show that it's not the price of the ingredient, but use thereof, that counts.

All in all, a very nice lunch for two. Cafe Opium is one of the better yum cha places in Oxford, and although can be inefficient, noisy and with that floor-staff attitude: that customers are an exasperating nuisance, unique to Chinese restaurants, the food is still worth the visit.



Lunch for two. The damage: £26.50 including a 10% service charge. Not bad at all.