Food at St. James Palace fit for an emperor

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Dragon Palace owner Yuk Ho (centre, with dumplings), with nephews Jian Ang (left, with Szechuan ginger beef), and Long Chen (right, with fried bananas). (DAVID LIPNOWSKI / WINNIPEG FREE PRESS) Photo Store

Dining Out

Dragon Palace

3060 Portage Ave., 831-7727

Licensed

Wheelchair access

4 1/2 out of five stars

Many Chinese restaurants serve dumplings -- potstickers usually and, more often than not, good. Dragon Palace makes pot-stickers too, properly pan-fried on one side only, but they were just one of a few different dumplings that -- apart from one bland batch with a relatively thick skin -- were excellent.

However one particular batch was even better -- steamed, silken packages that were simultaneously meaty and delicate and full of juices, bedded on lightly sautéed onions. Superb, in fact.

It was a version I haven't had anywhere else, and they were an add-on to a Peking Duck dinner which, for that matter, was also a version I haven't found anywhere else -- if, in fact, it does exist out there. Most other Peking ducks have turned out to be just barbecued duck -- usually delicious, true, but still, well, just barbecued duck. Nor have any of the others cost anywhere near Dragon Palace's astonishingly reasonable $40 for four, which I once named as one of the three best bargains of the previous 10 years. And it's the quality and generosity of that dinner that nudges the rating up to that extra half-star.

It needs at least one day's notice -- two is probably better -- to properly season, hang and inflate the duck, which then comes to table in a series of courses. First, platters of crackling, crisp and utterly fat-free wafers of tawny brown skin, and succulent slices of the meat, which are folded, with spears of scallion and cucumber, into hoisin-smeared steamed pancakes. Then more of the meat is diced and stir-fried with crunchy bits of black mushrooms and rice vermicelli, to be wrapped in lettuce leaves, à la Harvest In Snow.

One tradition is to follow with soup made from what's left of the carcass, but I found it pretty bland in the past. These days there's the option of having the remaining bits of meat mixed with either thick, fresh Shanghai noodles or fried rice. And if you have trouble making up your mind, as I did, you'll probably end up with a half-and-half sampling of both. As I did.

Every mouthful was marvellous, but there's more than just duck to this dinner. Almost as soon as you sit down, amuse bouches of deep-fried wontons and spring rolls appear -- nothing special, but unexpected, and a nice crunchy send-off. And to finish with, there's luscious, caramel-swirled fried bananas with ice cream.

There are few easier or nicer ways of entertaining a group. In fact, it was a passel of visiting relatives that brought me here (and yes, they loved it!). It was so good I could have had it all over again the next day -- sadly, there were no leftovers. It was also a reminder that a review of the regular à la carte menu was long overdue.

As Chinese menus go this one isn't extensive. Most of the dishes on it are familiar -- no fish maw, no jellyfish, nothing to intimidate the timid.

What it does offer is fresh ingredients, carefully prepared, with oiliness kept to a minimum and prices that are also reasonable, with most from $7.28 to $12.88.

One interesting starter is the cool shredded chicken in hot (i.e. spicy) peanut sauce, the chicken with the dewy freshness of the just-cooked, and a peanut sauce was richer and thicker (i.e. more peanutty, than most). The "hot" part was actually pretty tame. In fact, although the menu labels itself Northern Szechuan, nothing described as spicy raised a single bead of sweat.

The spiciest of the dishes I tried was bean cake with minced beef and chili sauce, with remarkably smooth tofu (a dish known elsewhere as mapo tofu). It was hotter than the peanut sauce, but not by much. If you like yours hot, let them know.

But you don't need to be a heat-seeker to eat well here. They do a beautiful job with shrimp, which turned up plump, pearly and bursting with juices, whether the main item in a sauce of minced pork, egg and garlic (it isn't called lobster sauce, but it was pretty close), or as part of the house chow fan, a tangle of seductively soft rice noodles, tossed as well with several meats and a few vegetables in an aromatic black bean sauce.

It's a rare Chinese menu that doesn't list some version of Szechuan ginger beef, but these crisp squiggles of beef were exceptional, garnished with strips of carrot, celery and onions and jazzed up with a shock of ginger.

The meat was almost candied, but not in the least cloying, and as addictive as salted peanuts. I also liked the mooshi, with a filling of tender chicken with the contrasting crunch of bean sprouts and black wood ear mushrooms.

The interior of the restaurant is spotless and pleasant, with a handsome lacquered screen sheltering the door, and walls adorned with Chinese embroideries and mother-of-pearl plaques. It's a true family restaurant -- both in terms of clientele and the people who own it -- and you'd have a hard time finding a nicer, more solicitous family.

It is also very popular, with both an in-house clientele and (judging by the steady stream of takeout orders) those who dine at home. Reservations would be wise, especially on a weekend. Note: closing day is Tuesday.

marion.warhaft@freepress.mb.ca

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition December 3, 2010 D3