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If you’re looking for dumplings to celebrate Chinese New Year, which begins tomorrow, run, do not walk, to the new Blue Blossom (108 W. 39th St., Midtown).
Its various and varied dumplings — soup-filled, roasted and fried — are the best collectively of any place I’ve been. They reflect the skills of partners Wang Lin Qun and his wife Fang Fang, who earned kudos for their CheLi on St. Marks Place in the East Village..
Blue Blossom is an eye-pleasing, 200-seater on two levels supposedly inspired by the “traditional Chinese concept of qinghua,” its website says, referring both to the color blue and blue-and-white porcelain seen on every table.
Although fine for partying, it’s uptown-comfortable with a mix of upholstered booths and banquettes, round tables and a cozy front bar. The smaller mezzanine is more intimate and better for couples.
Unlike Shanghai-focused CheLi, Blue Blossom offers dishes from other Chinese regions.The illustrated twenty-page menu can seem daunting at first glance, but it’s easy to follow and six of the pages merely announce categories.
The first three display the main reason to go: the dumplings. They come out of a small open kitchen window where a single chef — unlike the army behind glass at much-in-the-news Din Tai Fung near Times Square — somehow turns them out with remarkable efficiency and attention to detail.
Start with the “signature” bao platter ($14 for seven), a colorful array of soup dumplings that taste as good as their candy-like hues suggest. The white-skinned one in the middle is a skillful rendition of the classic pork-and-crab blend. One with black skin harbors fragrant black truffle, while a green dumpling is unusually filled with a mix of pork and cheese.
They were all umami-rich, the fillings freshly prepared inside medium-thick skins. They’re as tasty as those at Din Tai Fung, and they’re significantly larger and more satisfying.
Warning: these soup dumplings don’t merely squirt — they gush, so proceed with care.
Chili oil gives just enough spark to pan-fried, pork and shrimp wontons to elevate the cliche.
The best of the bunch are the roasted duck dumplings (four for $12). The flavorful, finely chopped meat inside purple envelopes has wonderful mouthfeel, simultaneously firm and moist.
They boasted more deep duck flavor than the Peking duck, one of several disappointments from the rest of the menu. The half bird ($45) tasted almost of nothing with the faintest touch of sweet plum sauce.
“Squirrel” fish (filleted striped bass in vivid red sweet-and-sour glaze, $42) with crackling skin marked a distinct upgrade to the old favorite from the Chinese province of Mott Street, although my friend grumbled, “It didn’t look like a squirrel.”
An enticing aroma preceded the “signature” salt-baked chicken ($39) to the table. There followed much parchment-slicing, flame-igniting and meat-cutting by the waiter, but for naught: The result was a mostly dry bird — especially white meat — wasted amidst pungent ginger and scallions.
Blue in Chinese culture symbolizes elegance and calm, but the latter was sorely missing Saturday night when the house was slammed. Overwhelmed waiters in a seeming rush to leave scrambled to bring dishes and clear plates. One fellow splattered sauce on our table and my iPhone, requiring a bathroom cleanse to make it useable.
But I’ll happily go back for the dumplings and give the rest of the menu another chance when the New Year’s celebration is over.
