Originally posted on National Post | News:
In this summer series, the National Post reporters and photographers bring us tales of that annual Canadian rite of passage for young people taking their first dip in the labour pool: The Summer Job.
‘Cha siu bao, ha gow, siu my. Barbecue pork buns, shrimp dumplings, pork dumplings. Barbecue pork buns, shrimp dumplings, pork dumplings…”
It was a singsong I heard often as a child. My grandparents, immigrants from Hong Kong who followed their children to Canada in the 1970s, would take me to eat dim sum in Toronto’s Chinatown several mornings a week. Older ladies pushed small carts of food up and down rows of customers’ tables, and I would point to what I thought was tastiest in the bounty of bamboo steamer baskets.
A Chinese-style brunch popularized in China’s southeastern region of Guangdong and Hong Kong, dim sum translates to “dot heart,” “delight heart” or “touch heart.” The…
View original 780 more words