Let Jean Teng show you how to do yum cha right.
All photos by Jin Fellet.
Yum cha is ritualistic. Being absorbed into the cacophony of Sunday morning chaos at a Cantonese restaurant pretty much always feels the same, no matter which one it is. There’s the same families hanging around the entrance, kids glued to a tablet as they await their turn; trolleys navigating circular tables covered in embossed yellow tablecloths; regulars pointing at steaming bamboo baskets that contain soft, savoury morsels.
There is ritual in how people order, too: pretty much the same thing, every time, gathered in groups they’ve been performing the dance with for yonks. I would warn against going alone. It is not a chic place to bring a book. In fact, it’ll only make you sad, probably.
Yum cha is basically the Chinese version of brunch, with small sharing plates that a non-Chinese person may liken to “tapas” (not me). Each steamer or plate may have around 3-4 portions and skew savoury – where the majority of options are steamed, the rest fried (and some sweet). It’s pretty straightforward, though there is an authoritative air in the way Cantonese people approach yum cha. There can also be some intimidating tension due to the inherent competitiveness of securing a table/getting what you want/satisfying everyone in your group.
You may have heard people calling this culinary outing yum cha or dim sum, used interchangeably – different countries have different norms. In Cantonese, yum cha means “drink tea”, and dim sum are the dishes themselves.
Having originated in Guangzhou, China, its existence – and abundant popularity – in Aotearoa can be attributed to our long history of Cantonese immigrants, which dates all the way back to the 1860s, from the first arrival of goldmine diggers from Southern China (where Guangzhou is). A lot of Chinese cuisine in the early days was Cantonese, like the assimilated foods we’re familiar with from takeaway shops (sweet and sour pork, chicken fried rice) due to this migration pattern. The plethora of regional Chinese food came later.
In Auckland specifically, the introduction of yum cha as a weekend brunch staple is often claimed by Pearl Garden in Newmarket, which opened in 1975 (and is still around today!). One of the owners, the daughter-in-law of founder Pauline Kwan Suk Yan, told NZHerald that, “It was a challenge to get Kiwis to get used to this new concept of Chinese dining, or even to the idea that the dishes were meant for sharing.” Very believable, considering sharing plates only became in vogue less than 20 years ago (and servers still love to tell you that “everything is designed to share”).
By the time I arrived in New Zealand, just after the dawn of the new millennium in 2001, there may have still been fewer yum cha places than there were McDonalds, but we didn’t lack for options. It is one of life’s many pleasures, trotting along to the lazy susan on a do-nothing weekend day. Please let me facilitate this.
The Guide
YJ Huang is a barista who has a coffee machine behind the counter at Sun World in Newmarket, a large Cantonese institution that has been around since 2000. He hawks caffeine under the brand Eternal Coffee and spends about half his time working the floor during yum cha service, being hailed down by people with empty teapots and running orders. I consulted him to bring authority to this guide. The thing that surprised him the most about getting a peek behind the scenes at a yum cha restaurant, he told me, was the way things get steamed, in bulk – steam billows out from the multiple holes that have towers of bamboo steamers placed on top. Science.
TEA: Tea is fundamental to the yum cha experience – I often make a face of despair when I see a group of uninitiated drinking cold water instead. When you get a table, often the server will ask what tea you’ll like. If a total beginner, just say, “jasmine”.
The other options include oolong, pu’er, and osmanthus – a lot of Chinese diners like pu’er tea, which sort of has a more complicated flavour profile and may be more earthy, darker, bitter than floral jasmine.
The one thing YJ wants everyone to know is that you need to pay for your tea. It doesn’t come with the meal. “It’s essentially paying for your seat,” he says.
To let your servers know you need a refill, pick the teapot lid up and put it on a jaunty angle atop the pot, and they’ll come around and fill it up with hot water.
HOW TO ORDER: Some yum cha places will have trolleys, some will just give you an ordering sheet to tick what you want. The latter is becoming increasingly common, especially in Asia. Both versions are generally dependent on customers knowing what’s what – in fact, this is why YJ reckons yum cha service is easier than working at a cafe. “You don’t have to explain the dishes,” he says.
With trolley service, if in doubt, just point (it’s not rude, promise). If you spot a certain type of dish across the room, see its quantities dwindling, and want to catch it before it runs out, you can go up to the trolley, but make sure you take the card with you.
YJ says if you want to hail down a server, you can wave (again, not usually seen as rude in Chinese dining culture, unless you’re annoying about it) and call out “m’goi’, which is sort of like “excuse me”. If you’re not Chinese they might be either really impressed, or make fun of you – mileage may vary. (On second thought, if you’re white, maybe just “excuse me” will do, but YJ told me that we should encourage it, for the culture.)
ORDER CARD: If your yum cha restaurant does trolley service, there’s a rectangular order card segmented into S, M and L, where servers will record what you order as you order it (take this up to the counter with you when you pay). Keep this at the edge of the table so the trolley minders can access it easily.
Here’s what a semi-exasperated YJ wants you to know about the order card: “There isn’t a small, medium or large version of these dishes. That’s just how we categorise them.”
THE ETIQUETTE: “Proper” etiquette seems to largely rest on the family you’ve grown up in. My mannerless family had zero yum cha-specific rules, but there are a couple of common and easy ones to adhere to: the youngest person at the table always serves the tea, and if you want to acknowledge someone else for pouring your tea for you, you can tap the table with two fingers in thanks.
WHAT TO ORDER: Have I banged on yet about how personal a yum cha order can be? I’ve never met anyone that didn’t have a regimented way of going about it.
But there are some dishes I’d recommend beginning with – the “Starter Pack”.
(One thing before we begin: There are usually two sides of a yum cha menu, one being dim sum, and the other cooked dishes you can order directly from the kitchen, like fried rice, or noodles. This guide only covers the dim sum.)
Cantonese names are written phonetically so you can order them out loud.
Yum Cha Starter Pack
Chicken feet (feng zhao)
Obviously, you want to order chicken feet. There is no world in which you’re reading a story about yum cha, presumably wanting to impress people by assimilating neatly into this bamboo-steamer universe, and not order the chicken feet. Just slip them bad boys into your mouth, nails first, and suck the meat off.
Pork spareribs (pai guat)
Steamed with black bean, this is knobby, cartilage-y goodness, with a hit of saltiness that will definitely require a few sips of tea to wash it down. YJ thinks this is the best dish at Sun World.
Prawn dumplings (har gow)
A Starter Pack should always include the most basic of yum cha dumplings, the har gow, a parcel of juicy prawn encased in a translucent wrapper, slightly chewy and stretchy. I personally would steer you towards the prawn and chive dumplings (gao choi gao), if you’re willing to take a step up.
Steamed pork buns (char siu bao)
These are point-blank delicious, and a picky eater’s dream: if your friend only eats chicken nuggets and fries, order them this. The outside is fluffy and cloud-like, with a sweet, sticky pork filling that is impossible to hate. I feel like sometimes people avoid ordering this because they think it’s too obvious but I think you’ll regret it if you don’t.
Siu mai
Like dumplings but a lot meatier – a meatball of pork and mushroom that is squishy and juicy. Again, intensely savoury, and my second pick for what to satisfy a picky eater with.
Congee (juk)
Rice porridge that bulks out the meal if you’re worried about not getting enough to eat (although this is really never a concern at yum cha). It’s good as a balance to other intensely flavoured dishes – not quite as flavourless as a palette cleanser, but will make you feel better than roast pork.
Rice noodle rolls (cheung fun)
I love cheung fun! It’s a silky smooth thin noodle that is rolled in some sort of internal filling, whether that’s prawn or beef or even a youtiao (dough stick). The youtiao makes it a top-tier carb on carb snack, especially because it’s doused in creamy sesame sauce that makes it a borderline dessert.
Egg tart (dan tart)
The only real dessert dish worth eating at yum cha in my opinion (though others could disagree; the molten egg custard buns are also popular). It’s a glassy, smooth, sweet egg custard surrounded by flaky pastry.
