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Yank Sing Dots My Heart (San Francisco CA)
Chinese

In a city of over 2,500 restaurants, many famous and fabulous, how does one select where to eat? For me it was easy as I began searching one specific subset of them, those serving Chinese food. It was approaching Chinese New Year in this city with one of the largest Chinese populations outside of China is a great time to come to eat. New Yorkers may say that their city has the largest Chinese population outside of China, but we can not compete with San Francisco's biggest and best New Year parade. My goal was to sample Chinese food and banquets, and dot my heart with dim sum galore.

Off I went to indulge just before the festivities of the Year of the Ox began. I arrived at a time when Chinese restaurants are at their busiest because the parade, purported to be the world's largest Chinese New Year event, attracts over half a million people. This year it was to be held on February 22nd at the end of two weeks of festivities, cost twenty dollars for bleacher seats, be two-plus hours, and a spectacle of block-long dragons, giant paper-mache mannequins, marching bands, cavorting kids, and more. And my luck, I could not stay to watch it.

Just a few days before the parade, reservations in the best of places should have been loaded with hassles, but they were not. I visited many Chinese restaurants, was more often the guest of others who selected all or parts of the menu, and I dined at a New Year's banquet ordered by another. That being so, I won't tell you about Tommy Toy's Cuisine Chinoise (at 655 Montgomery Street) or the five star dining award winning sophisticated Mandarin restaurant atop the Woolen Building at Ghirardelli Square, or even about dinner at the Empress of China located in the heart of Chinatown at 838 Grant Street. I won't share my experiences at Mings in Palo Alto (1700 Embarcadero) or the lunch enjoyed at the Imperial Palace at 919 Grant Avenue. Though all had good dishes, I'll review the only place I visited often and in charge of menu choices. Actually, I did not order, I selected from plates carried aloft or others on stainless steel trollies pushed about.

You guessed it, I'm talking about one terrific dim sum parlor, no ordinary eatery, but rather one that some time before, Gourmet Magazine had called "one of the finest dining experiences in San Francisco;" more recently, Bon Appetit agreed using other but similar words. I headed there not only because they touted it, but also because it is the only restaurant in this country only open a few hours in the mid-day that only serves dim sum. There is yet another reason, because my husband had been there two months earlier and advised it offered the best dim sum he'd ever eaten. That's hardly faint praise from one who has almost perfect taste buds trained on lots of Chinese culinaria at our and others' homes, and hundreds of Chinese restaurants, dim sum parlors, and more.

Thus, I grabbed a cab at my hotel less than half an hour after arriving by air and rushed to this golden oldie whose name translates to "City of the Ram" (referring to Guangzhou) called Yank Sing. Actually, there are two in this city, one a biggie, though you'd not believe that it seats 331 and the other a small place seating about ninety.

My husband and I have eaten at the Pan Shi in the namesake city, the ultimate of dim sum eateries, a place that touts it can make hundreds upon hundreds of "dot the heart" delicacies. I've indulged in almost a hundred there (been back twice after our joint visit) and I do agree theirs has excellent taste and sometimes elegant presentation. I also concur that the service is unexceptional, sometimes rude, and ambiance it doesn't have.

One of Yank Sing's managers, John Shao, proudly told my husband that Yank Sing can make hundreds, but in reality on any given week day serves about sixty, a double dozen more on week-ends. He also told him there is no menu and that they serve only from 11:00 am to 3:00 pm weekdays, and on Saturdays and Sundays 10:00 am to 4:00 pm at their Battery Street location (427 near the corner of Clay), 11:00 am to 2:30 but only on Sundays at 49 Stevenson Street, in the financial district. What he didn't say, but should have, is that their restaurant is upscale, their service impeccable, their food fantastic with lovely presentations, and that the place is spit and polish. He also failed to advise that the Har Gao (shrimp dumplings) come rabbit-shaped (as they did at the Pan Hsi) and also shaped as gold-fish.

As an unabashed lover of dim sum, married to another, it was worth my rush by taxi to taste at my first visit and at subsequent ones, almost every one of their treats. In business for over 30 years, my wait to savor the many bite-sized delicacies created nearly one thousand years ago for the Imperial Court during the Sung Dynasty, did not disappoint.

On the ground floor, some tables look out onto the street where one can marvel at the horse-heads awaiting carriages at their copper-headed posts. Upstairs or down, tables have privacy, white cloth napery covered with white paper place mats, museum quality glass teapots, and an attentive waitstaff that knows names and ingredients, and wants to serve.

Though a bit more expensive than most dim sum places, I actually enjoyed paying for wonderful food, folks who serve as they should, spotlessly clean bathrooms, and other delights that touched my heart.

A personal favorite at dim sum eateries is Pocket Soup. If available, I have to have one, sometimes two, of these large dumplings that arrive ready to spurt hot soup when pierced. Would Yank Sing have them? Could they satisfy my cravings for Snowpea Leaf Dumplings, paper thin Har Gao, Pot Stickers, and more? And most importantly, would they be as good as I was led to believe.

They were even better, I can say as I gorged on more than any human being should at one sitting. To make sure that my reaction was not compensation for the tasteless tacky stuff endured in the air, I returned several more times. My conclusions, if you like dim sum or deem sum as they spell it, this is a place not to be missed. It is not a gigantic Hong Kong style eatery seating hundreds in one barn-like noisy room. Rather, the beautiful Japanese-style fresh flower display at the entry gracefully and peacefully sets the stage for the most elegant dot the heart dining I've ever had.

As I write this review, I can still taste the lightly fried cylindrical fish roll encrusted with almond slivers and the chicken rolled in sesame seeds wrapped with a band of seaweed. Both were light and lovely, not greasy though fried until golden. I can even taste the slices of Peking Duck, hardly served in a traditional manner, their mite of meat attached to skin so crisp I can still hear it even though they had been stuffed into steamed buns and covered with hoisin sauce and scallion slivers. I can feel my surprise as I bit into a piece of bean curd with seafood when I sensed a tiny taste of hot pepper.

I recall the Spring Rolls boasting barbecued chicken and veggies in a thin crispy crust and Potstickers likewise filled but tasting differently. I recall the Pocket Soup in its small tan ceramic pot covered with extra soup so that piercing would in no way scald a diner, and the rabbit and the goldfish-shaped Har Gao, the spinach-infused and the orange dumplings with their different fillings. I think of the mango pudding sporting a half strawberry; all were delights to dash for.

For me, going to Yank Sing rewarded with food a cut above what most good places serve. Madame Anna Chan, its 1958 founder, would be pleased to know, were she there as will her son Henry, who owns the place, that I loved every visit and pretty much loved everything except what they called Spinach Tortellini and the excess dough on the snout of the goldfish-shaped Har Gao.

I learned there that Henry wrote a cookbook called Classic Deem Sum. I've owned it since it was published by Holt, Reinhart, and Wilson in 1985, and never connected it to this restaurant but did when I was there because I spotted the bar tender selling copies. He also sells three sauces originated in 1949 by Anna's husband. spiced chili oil, chili pepper sauce, and a chili XO sauce ($2.95, $2,95, and $4.95 respectively). A taste test comparing them to the competition will be reported in a future issue.

As I wonder about the quality of them, I wonder what I can do to entice Deem Sum International, Inc. dba Yank Sing to open a place near me. Owner Henry Chan and operations manager Norman Louie, I listened to your crispy Peking Duck, are you listening to me?

_____
Jacqueline M. Newman, editor-in-chief of Flavor and Fortune, has published dozens upon dozens of articles, spoken on three continents about Chinese food and food history, been a restaurant reviewer of foods of all cultures, and has studied Chinese food in homes and restaurants worldwide.