This man knows how to coax superior flavor from simple ingredients. His Colombian-style tamal costeno - braised pork belly with sweet potato, jalapeño slices, a spring onion and a perfect little carrot, all cooked in a banana leaf - was inspired. His grilled beef heart, paired with a sweet onion tart he said was a tribute to legendary Lutece chef Andre Soltner, was very good. Meanwhile, the new cook to watch here is Michael Coralli. The bowl was brushed with painterly strokes of black squid ink. And what a meal: Ward stopped by with a scallop escabeche, topped with spicy pork carnitas, salsa brava and a bit of cauliflower. The Tiger Lady cocktail (charcoal rye, Chinese black-bean vermouth, ginger, chicory and a copper-toned cherry) was a lovely way to finish our repast. I adored her Lost in Translation (a frothy-topped mix of rum, absinthe, shiso, Thai basil, lime, pineapple and a sprinkle of Madras curry and macadamia). Thankfully, Gunshow’s wildly talented beverage director Mercedes O’Brien always commandeers a cocktail wagon. (I like that.) Gunshow turns 5 in May, and Ward tells me they use carts as appropriate to the dishes. But unlike the antique ladies at dim-sum houses who won't take no for an answer, once you pass on a plate, the cooks won't bother you again. In what amounts to a cooking laboratory led by executive chef Joey Ward, chefs stop by your table to offer and explain their dishes (many with Asian flavors). Kevin Gillespie's Glenwood Park restaurant hardly qualifies as a traditional dim-sum parlor, but the spirit of showmanship is there.
But what fun to languish here for a couple of hours on a lazy-drizzly Sunday, celebrating a friend's birthday, red lanterns bobbing high above our heads to mark the Chinese New Year. With just the buffet alone, we had to pace ourselves. Unless you detest dim sum or are in the mood for a Western breakfast, I'd decline the $60 option, which includes a substantial cooked-to-order entree (shrimp and grits, steak and eggs, French toast, chicken and waffles or a half-pound burger).
#DIM SUM ATLANTA EVENING PLUS#
For $45, you get tea or coffee and a mimosa or Bloody Mary - plus as much as you want from the endless spread of hot entrees, soup, fruit, granola, yogurt and darling little sweets (pecan tarts, banana cheesecake). Instead of carts, a buffet is laid out with an endless variety of bites: shrimp shumai, fried-shrimp money bags (how appropriate), sesame chicken (skip it) and crispy shrimp poked into a tall shot glass, with sweet-chili sauce for dipping (cute). Housed in a spikey ziggurat-style skyscraper, this posh Buckhead hotel offers dim sum on Sundays only. Luscious! We sipped a pot of oolong and ended the feast with fried sesame balls filled with red-bean paste (oh, how I love thee) and the piece de resistance: balls of cakey, sweet dough with a bright yellow, vaguely salty egg custard at the center. Some of the better noshes we devoured at Royal China were the pillowy, soy-drizzled rice-noodle rolls (cheong fun) and custardy ovals of baked eggplant, with a dollop of shrimp paste schmear on one side and a fermented black-bean sauce spooned around the saucer. The beef stew we sampled had complexity and depth, with a whisper of five spice, a few chunks of carrot and lots of chewy, gristly pieces of tongue and what-not. Then move on to something fried - I love the shrimp balls molded around sugar-cane skewers - or maybe a soup. Start with a basket of steamed pork and shrimp siu mai (they look like meatballs in a crinkly, open-faced dumpling wrapper).
The best time to go, however, is on weekends, when the room is energized by dim-sum sophisticates. At this old-school Hong Kong-style banquet hall with low panel ceilings, orange-vinyl chairs and shiny gold curtains, you can enjoy cart service weekdays until 3 p.m.
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