Dumpling To Rule Them All: Shengjian Bao in Beijing

Imagine if China were to adopt a Harry Potter inspired "sorting hat" immigration assessment policy. It's easy if you try. Laowai would fall into two distinct camps - on one side, wall-hiking, wind-energy advocating, hemp-underpanted Beijingers; on the other, money-grabbing, street urchin-kicking, spiritually moribund Shanghainese. Yes, you're either one or the other. But a single unifying truth bridges this ideological divide: The best dumplings come from Shanghai.

Jiaozi and baozi, homely as they are, look boorish and unrefined in the company of soupy xiaolong tangbao or crisp-bottomed shengjian bao ... like someone trying to start a Mexican wave at the ballet. Beijingers – admit defeat and take solace in the fact that, dumplings aside, the rest of Shanghai's culinary offerings are rubbish. And then head to newly opened Meiming'r Shengjian Bao at 93 Gulou Xidajie to drown your sorrows in scalding, porky soup.

OK, the skins are a bit thick, and there's none of the atmosphere (or queues) of Yang's Fry Dumpling in Shanghai, but flavor-wise, it's sticky, sesame-seed smiles all round. What's more, the price is the same as the aforementioned Shanghai institution: RMB 5 for 4. And the xiaolong tangbao above, whilst not so impressive, are RMB 6 for 6. That's a lot cheaper than Din Tai Fung.

Far from the supercilious stares of Shanghai folk, grunting, ham-fingered northerners can now enjoy authentic buns that don't fall too far short of Shanghai's finest. But nobody is. On the two occasions I've stopped by, the place is empty. My guess is that wary locals are sticking resolutely to their greasy doornail dumplings (mending roubing), available across the street. Come on citizens, put aside pride and get some of the good stuff.