The Sunday dinner menu at Bao Bao was not, as I thought, a more varied affair with bigger multi-course offerings going beyond the restaurant’s signature dumplings.  I was, I admit, wrong to assume otherwise since nowhere on its website did it give that impression. Yet differentiating it from its regular menu as “Sunday dinner” implied a broader range of dishes.

It didn’t.  And our table of four, however, was hardly disappointed with what we ate, though we all expected it to be, well, fuller.

The dining room and bar at Bao Bao

Chef Cara Stadler’s Bao Bao is a dumpling house in the strictest sense. (Interestingly the kitchen does not prepare—as the restaurant’s name suggests—the typical Chinese buns known as cha sui bao or pork buns; yet “bao” literally means wrapped treasure and not necessarily referring to buns.)

Other than a few dishes on its regular menu such as a Taiwanese beef and noodle soup or such salads as the Asian slaw or smashed cucumbers, dim sum is the total sum of its parts.    And at this Sunday dinner it exemplified the esoterica of regional Chinese  dim sum artistry.

Smashed cukes with garlic, sesame and chili oil

These Sunday dinners feature the cooking from a different province each month. When I first looked at the online menu a few weeks ago, the flavors of Beijing were the highlight.  I was excited about that since it’s different from what’s usually available here.  But the following week had changed to Cantonese specialties, the cooking of which is more familiar. And that’s the menu we encountered last Sunday night, a menu filled with new and novel dishes.

Asian dining in Portland has grown by leaps and bounds in the last 10 years.  Miyake introduced his higher order of fusion Japanese that makes his cooking virtually world-class.  Boda in Portland and Long Grain in Camden have their high moments too for authentic Thai street food served well. The extraordinary Tempo Dulu is the only restaurant in New England that prepares the exotica of Southeast Asian fare.  And with the opening of Empire Chinese in 2013, Mainers finally had the chance to experience fairly authentic Cantonese cooking with a few fusion touches rather than an ersatz American-Chinese menu typified by orange chicken and sweet and sour pork—the stuff of Chinese restaurants in strip malls.

Pan-seared shrimp and bacon dumplings at lunch

I’m not suggesting that these American-Chinese dishes don’t have appeal. One Portland food personality swears by the orange chicken at The Golden Lotus (511 Congress St.), a dish, to me,  akin to soda pop. Yet I‘ve surreptitiously wolfed down the orange beef from Panda Express at the Mall.  But these dishes are as Chinese as an American in Paris. If you like cornstarch and MSG, go for it.  But I’d much rather experience the real stuff.  While I don’t plan a trip to Hong Kong anytime soon I might cross the bridge when in New York next week to experience the great surge of mom and pop Chinese restaurants in the city’s boroughs, especially Flushing, Queens,  where the real meal is a virtual melting pot of authentic provincial cooking of China in these unassuming restaurants. For sure I’ll hit chef Joe Ng’s inimitable Redfarm  for Chinese fusion fare at his West Village brownstone  aerie.

Redfarm NY’s signature pac-man dumplings and scallop ceviche with caviar

In many ways Stadler’s Portland and Brunswick outposts are culinary revelations in a sea of schlocky Asian cooking. Stadler’s cooking is subtle but exciting, though I don’t always like everything she cooks, and I probably prefer Tao-Yuan for its greater range of dishes.

I haven’t frequented Bao Bao since its early days.  A year later and the place is as popular as ever. I stopped in for lunch last Saturday and there was just one space left—a seat at the bar. The waiter behind the bar was overwhelmed with food and drink orders coming at him left and right.  The waitresses serving the room seemed just as frenzied if not  dazed over which dishes went where?

I ordered the Asian slaw and the shrimp and bacon pan-seared dumplings. The couple sitting next to me had a great pile of dishes in front of them–some of which  arrived by mistake.  They happily ate what was served to them. But by the end of their meal the intended order of 5 dishes had grown to 8.  Meanwhile I’m certain that my meagre meal had whizzed by me several times in error.

Asian slaw

I wasn’t complaining, but I was getting hungry.  Eventually I had a fine lunch starting off with that glorious Asian slaw tastefully crafted with red cabbage, peanuts, pea pods, crispy shallots, carrots and peanuts.   The dumplings had great flavor too with the counterpoint of shrimp and bacon.  Though pan-seared dumplings tend to be greasy–and these were wet with grease on the underside.

I was primed for dinner the next day, and the pacing and service was much better.  Worried about getting a table—Bao Bao does not take reservations—I put my name on a list as suggested by Chris Peterman–Stadler’s group manager, sommelier and an alumni of Central Provisions.  When we arrived at 6 our table was ready and the feast began.  We started with the slaw and cukes.  The cucumbers—similar to the ones served at Empire—were fresh and bracing and is a standard dish at many regional Cantonese restaurants in China.

Sunday dinner crowd at Bao Bao

Then the fun began with the feast of dumplings: Kung Pao chicken and Pork and Cabbage started the brigade of Stadler’s dumpling lineup.  They’re very well seared crisp on one side giving it great texture and crust, and the underside remains soft but still somewhat greasy.

Bao Bao’s classic dumplings: Kung Pao and pork and cabbage

The Cheung fun roll was a sheath of rice noodle wrapped around confit pork belly, water chestnuts, sesame and soy. It’s typically part of a dim sum menu and resembles a kind of Chinese version of a tamale made from wide rice noodles.  This was the most novel dish so far.  The mixture of spices and textures were so appealing, and the gelatinous thickness of its casing assuaged the assertive filling within.

Cheung fun rolls

Cantonese fried rice was a typically hearty bowl filled with Maine scallops, shrimp, Chinese sausage, XO, ginger, cilantro, carrots and peas.  Though it would have been nice to have had a substantial main course of fish or meat, this meal was, after all, glorified dim sum.

Cantonese fried rice

After the Cheung fun rolls, Zong Zi was the most exotic.  Stuffed into a steamed bamboo leaf was sticky rice, braised pork and peanuts.  It was delicious and we should have had two of these.

Zong Zi

Har Gao, steamed dumplings filled with shrimp and water chestnuts, was a delicate dish compared to the hearty pan-seared dumplings that preceded.

Steamed Har Gao dumplings

The desserts were interesting in our choice of chocolate mousse and coconut balls, though my favorite Bao Bao sweet is the buns filled with sugary bean-curd paste.

Thai gimlet, coconut balls and chocolate mousse

The cocktails shouldn’t be missed.  We had great Mai Tai’s and Thai lime gimlets, which at $11 each pad the bill noticeably, making Sunday dinner there upwards of $50 each (the dumplings are all under $10 but if you order everything the price climbs proportionately), not bad when it’s easily double that elsewhere and often not as good.

Bao Bao Dumpling House, 133 Spring St., Portland, ME 207-772-8400 www.baobaodumplinghouse.com

Rating: exemplary cooking, showcasing fusion Asian fare in a dim-sum menu

Ambiance: The usual hipster cool vibes in an urbane setting

Service: can  be uneven but that night went off without a hitch

Bar: full

Parking: street

$$$ moderately expensive; a full menu including cocktails can run about $50 per person