Restaurant review: Yao Fuzi Cuisine(2)
In the end, I chose the spoon route and sloppily dribbled the vinegar. The dumpling's wrapper felt sheer and supple in the mouth. A first chomp brought the rush of broth, followed by satisfying morsels of shrimp and pork. Someone in the kitchen had unquestionably mastered this preparation.
Our growing feast captured the interest of the young man who seemed to be in charge. When our server brought over the shrimp dish, he followed with another saucer of vinegar.
"First, try the shrimp by itself. Then, dip the shrimp in the vinegar. You'll notice a startling difference."
The man was Chris Yao. He and his father, Alex, operate the restaurant ( fuzi is a Mandarin word meaning father-son). Alex Yao mastered Shanghai-style cooking while working in that city's hotels, and both he and his son worked in various Dallas restaurants (Alex at Great China, Chris at Steel as well as Sushi Sapporo and Cafe Miso in Addison) before venturing forth on their own four months ago. Father cooks; son mans the front of the house.
And Chris Yao's guidance on the shrimp helped unmask the brilliance of the dish. Firstly, the shrimp were gossamer, with just a touch of snap. The clear, tea-leaf-infused sauce glossed the shrimp with a lilting, herbaceous muskiness. But dipping the little critters in vinegar awoke unexpected flavors that resembled mustard or horseradish. Dunking or not dunking felt like straddling a portal between two different but equally bewitching worlds. Which to choose?
More memorable dishes emerged on this and a subsequent visit: Tender shards of double-cooked pork (first braised, then sautéed) came on a large platter with silken cabbage, surrounded by rice-flour buns each shaped like a squashed Pac-Man. The buns are the same ones used for Peking duck, only here we layered the pork and cabbage between their bouncy folds.
The aforementioned stir-fried rice cakes had the downy texture of American dumplings, but with a meaty pounce from fresh-tasting squiggles of pork. Pork belly anchored another entree, which translates as "red cooked pork." The striated blocks of meat were slowly braised in a soy-based sauce and then surrounded by baby bok choy, which kindly set the palate back to neutral between porcine bites.
Two creations veered from the Shanghainese theme but proved thoroughly successful. From the regular menu, hunks of fried soft-shell crabs were tossed in a Cantonese-style black bean sauce with zigzags of onion, fresh ginger, scallion, sesame oil and (for a homespun touch) jalapeños.
And, since folks in these parts favor spicy preparations, the Yaos added a Sichuan dish to the menu: fish (variety changes daily) with Sichuan peppercorns. It's hard to describe the woodsy, otherworldly flavor of Sichuan peppercorns, which until recently were banned from import because of FDA frets. But once you've known that taste, famous for slightly numbing the tongue, you'll instantly recognize it forevermore.
At the second meal, a tablemate specifically requested something spicy. His entreaty was obliged with a snowy slab of steamed Chilean sea bass with ginger, scallions and potent but not ferocious red chiles scattered over the fish like edible confetti.
We started that second dinner with a selection of traditional appetizers: cold chicken and duck, kimchi-like cabbage and some funky deep-fried fish that had acquired a meaty texture and tasted of five-spice seasoning. The younger Mr. Yao stressed that these dishes excite the appetite, though I could see how less adventurous types might steer away.
But, after such a riot of wild, unbound treats, be open-minded at dessert. Fusion throwaways like tempura cheesecake were offered, but when I asked Mr. Yao for something truly Chinese, he brought out a hot dish of red rice bound with fruity red sesame paste. Its sweetness exactly matched the tenor of the meal.
I left that second meal mentally compiling a wish list for Yao Fuzi. I'd love to see a broader wine list offered. Less goofily Americanized desserts would be great. And I yearn mightily for the Chinese menu to be translated into English.
But my biggest wish? To see this surprising restaurant filled with eager customers.
