Rickshaw Dumpling Bar

I am not going to say we were unexcited. Whenever a dumpling shop opens up feet from your front door, it’s cause for celebration. Ok, it’s not my front door, it’s my boyfriend’s. But that’s good enough for me to jump up and down and raise my hands over my head and declare once again that dumplings are, like, the greatest food on the earth.

So we walked down 8th Street last night, half past seven and just about an hour before heading to the Iron & Wine concert, to get some at the newly opened Ricksahw Dumpling Bar.

Overall, I like Rickshaw better than Dumpling Man. The wrappers here are more glutunous and less doughy; the fillings more varied. We had the Szechuan Chicken (with chili and soy beans), Peking Duck (with shredded cabbage and scallion), and Shrimp (with jicama and scallion). Six dumps costs you $5.55 (they have a kitschy pricing system where everything is in multiples of the same figure, except the Waterlemonade, which is exorbitant at $3.95).

The dumplings were good (but not transcendental; that requires a lot more pork and duck fat). The best were the Peking Duck with a side of hoisin sauce (aka Chinese ketchup). There is a photo booth in the back where you can get six black and white photos for $3.

I have one major beef with this dumpling shop – and it had nothing to do with the food. It’s the massive amount of trash each meal produces.

We ate at the restaurant. “Stay in!” we told the cute-as-a-button cashier, who was bizarrely a dead ringer for my college friend Sonja.

But that does not mean you get real silverware and real plates and little dipping pots for your sauces. Everything is wrapped the same as if for take-out: for our meal, we had three paper boxes, each with a plastic dipping container; the noodles came in a plastic bowl and each drink came in a plastic cup. We went through a pair of wooden chopsticks each and two plastic spoons and a pile a napkins. It was a gooddam Glad packaging convention by the time we were done.

Anyway, in case Rickshaw hasn’t noticed – earth space is precious. Why can’t they use re-usable supplies for sit down dining? Would the cost of a Hobart and dishwasher cost them so much more than the cost of providing huge amounts of plastic and paper ? Even though I liked the dumplings a lot, I felt like a middle-class shithead with all the refuse a few bites produced. Ekeing it out on the margins, like some of the places in Chinatown, not only produces damn tasty dumplings, but also produces vastly less serving crap. My verdict: I would rather go to Joe’s Ginger for some pork fat dumplings served in a bamboo basket that’s as old as time.

Where: 53 E. 8th Street; 212-461-1750