Food trends come and go but the tradition of transforming yourself into a pulsating lump of grease and MSG on Sunday morning isn’t going anywhere. Dim Sum offers the discerning glutton the chance to not only enjoy a dumpling but to become a dumpling.
Dim Sum has become particularly popular among the nation’s piss-wrecks because it offers a fantastic, judgment-free environment to get back on the beers at 10:30 am. It’s pretty much Disneyland for people who have dealt their livers another 10 punch combo on the weekend.
All good dining experiences are accompanied by a pleasing ambience. Dim Sum is no different. Enjoy the sounds of intermittent angry outburst from the kitchen, plates crashing and bogans pronouncing menu items with the linguistic flair of gorilla communicating through a 1990’s Yak Bak – “bring us those dumplings with the yellow shit around em, and those little fuckers with the fluid shit inside, ay”.
For some extra entertainment, watch those very gorillas become enraged at their inability to use chopsticks and resort to just grabbing food with their hands and in the process eating an unacceptable amount of paper at the base of pork buns.
Others prefer to grab off the cart as it comes around. A Chinese lucky dip of sorts. Similarly, others prefer to grab the actual cart to make sure it doesn’t pass them by before every item has had a chance to marinate in the thick cloud of rancid gas they’ve been cultivating all morning.
It is strongly advised one fulfils their toilet needs before going in. Or the chilli oil will rip through you and you’ll find yourself embarking on a journey through an active kitchen, down a hall, through a room giving haircuts and after a few minutes arrive at an oddly homely toilet.
Once you find the toilet you will then need to deal with the crime scene in the toilet from the last bogan who detonated a dirty bomb. 18 cans of Jacks and two late-night kebabs make for a scene that would make a Dutch barnyard-star feel squeamish.
Naturally, your meal isn’t finished until you’ve covered the paper table covering like you were a 3-year-old with a bowl of spaghetti. Don’t worry about the shame, the staff wouldn’t use paper coverings if they thought very much of you. It’s expected. Just let it happen.
After several beers and 1.5kg of delicious grease, you’re ready to really take your Sunday by the horns- a 3-hour nap followed by a moment of self-reflection of whether you truly needed those last 3 plates.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?