The Dim Sum Phoenix: Jing Fong's Measured Return to Form

I am a generally lazy person; not only that, but I am also indecisive. I am sent into a crisis if I see two options at a restaurant that I cannot decide between. I have often been that despised person, asking for a bite here and a taste there; a trait good in someone looking to understand a restaurant but not so appreciated in a dining partner. Like an exile of tables, I find refuge in the beautiful field of options in Jing Fong. Nom Wah, Golden Unicorn, and every restaurant in Flushing are all giants in the fierce New York dim sum scene, but Jing Fong has risen out of the ashes of an extended COVID-19 closure to come back swinging. 

The buzzing line outside the door shows the mix of loyal locals and steadfast regulars waiting excitedly for a seat. It was a downpour on my first visit, and the canopy of umbrellas protected my weary head from the rain. 

I entered the restaurant with a milling flurry of carts piping steam and the faint smell of tea in the air. The foyer was less of a waiting area but a trading floor. The different names and their reservations screamed aloud as a waiting crowd of hungry diners milled about. After much pacing, my group went to a table and sat with other ravenous and excited diners. This spot is too popular for luxuries like a table per party; reservations are seated in batches. This communal dining comes in handy as you can covertly glance at your compatriot's dishes, silently applauding or judging their choices as the carts roll on by. 

Being at a table, passed by each server piloting their cart, feels like you are sold on each dish, hawking crispy-salty-starchy turnip cake coated in a sweet sauce that gives the texture a nice balance of flavor—pork buns with a pillowed outside and a bright red filling almost too adorable to handle. Following up the first of many steamed pastries, we detoured the various shrimp dishes, inhaling delicate and well-filled shrimp rice rolls that set the bar for the Cantonese classic. Then we moved on to some celery and shrimp cake that was decently flavorful but not worth the $6.50 cost and loss of room in my stomach. A clear favorite was the meat-stuffed bean curd, a juicy treat surrounded by a blanket of salty umami tofu skin. I inhaled two before my friend could even get a bite in their first one. Feeling terrible about my greed and gluttony, I ordered another for him. The classic chicken feet, gelatinous, piquant, and honeyed, finished this slate of savory dishes. The tender dish was a great game to pass the time while strategizing what else to pick off a passing steamer. I never say no to them when I grab dim sum.

An assault on my senses awaited me upon my return to the sweeter side of the menu. I recommend diners steer clear of durian puffs. If you have ever hated yourself so much that you wanted to eat rotten onions drowned in NyQuil syrup with the faintest whiff of drunk’s vomit, you have found your fruit in this belch of nature. I was begrudgingly coaxed into biting the durian-filled puff pastries brought over to our table and had to spit it out. I usually brave any bite for the sake of adventure and politeness, but this proved too much to handle, and it ended up in a disposable napkin. Try it if you dare. 

After many cups of tea, I washed the cruel taste out of my mouth. A delicious, sweet sesame ball announced a strong return to form, cracking apart to reveal its thick, decadent, sweet sesame paste beneath. The split is a mandatory part of the experience, so you can play with your food like a child. Finally, we arrive at the piece de resistance, the egg custard and lava buns. To be sure, the egg custard buns were less piping hot but more cloying, leaving me staring at textured white buns feeling uninspired. By far, the core of the meal and the dish that keeps me coming back is the Lava Bun, black with a stripe of gold through it and as hot as the name would suggest; the juxtaposition between the salted egg yolk and sweetness creates something you cannot stop eating. If you get anything at this establishment, get these and order two.

Jing Fong is a mainstay with New Yorkers for a reason: the atmosphere, speed, and steamed pastries keep it on the map and make it the place to be. It is a classic that anyone should feel happy going to, but it still may need a bit more time before it reaches the heights of its pre-COVID-19 glory. I will keep returning for those fabulous Lava buns and classic dim sum that sets a high bar for New York City. 3 out of 5 Spoons.