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Albert Yang hasn’t seen the view from Quarry Rock or sampled the dumpling trail in Richmond since he arrived in Vancouver to open the new, 311-seat soup dumpling emporium, Din Tai Fung on Alberni Street, although he is keen to try both the view, and the local fare.
“It’s been all work,” says Yang as he settles into a booth bearing a pot of oolong tea, and two cups. He wouldn’t ask a staff member for it. In a family business, as in dumpling-making, you pitch in.
His brother is here. His parents, too. Cousins are in town. They are behind the bar, training staff, and popping into the glass-enclosed dumpling kitchen that is the heart of the operation.
Yang grew up a restaurant kid, doing homework at a Formica table, and taking orders as soon as he was tall enough to see over the counter at the Din Tai Fung that his parents opened in a strip mall in Arcadia, California, then a “humble mom and pop shop.”
He also learned the art of making Xiao Long Bao, or soup dumplings, but not until he was 12 and strong enough to roll the dough.
“Making dumplings is hard, physical work. It’s very difficult,” says Yang.
Din Tai Fung Vancouver , which opens May 5, is one of 171 worldwide, including spots in London, Manhattan and Dubai, and features Taiwanese dishes and, most importantly, the Xiao Long Bao his grandfather, Yang Bing Li first made to survive, and later, to his surprise, became famous for.
Vancouver food lovers, no strangers to Asian cuisine, have been locked in on the arrival of DTF, arguing passionately on social media for the soul of the soup dumpling. Its 18-fold top, its gush of hot broth on first bite, is seen as a measure of skill, heritage and artistry.
“Xiao Long Bao is a traditional food,” says Yang. “We feel a responsibility to carry that tradition forward.”
But a restaurant is also about hospitality, said Yang, and creating an experience.
Behind the scenes at Din Tai Fung, there have been weeks of dress rehearsals. The interior design, like a stage set, reflects the story it wants to tell: one that stays true its Taiwanese heritage but honours the west coast with a rock garden, and jewel green tones.
Although Xiao Long Bao originated in Mainland China, Din Tai Fung’s have a strong Taiwanese influence.
“They are a smaller in size compared to original versions found near Shanghai,” said Yang, “and we are also known for the incredibly thin skin that doesn’t break.”
Yang’s grandfather, Yang Bing Yi, was born in China’s Shanxi province in 1927 but moved to Taiwan in 1948, where he took a job delivering cooking oil by bicycle.
In 1970, as grocery stores began to pop up, the oil cooking oil business became obsolete. A friend suggested he sell some specialty items that Chinese immigrants in Taiwan longed for, like Xiao Long Bao.
Yang Bing Li set up four tables in his shop, and the first Din Tai Fung restaurant was born.
The business grew from one floor to five, and in 1993 was named one of the world’s top 10 best restaurants by the New York Times.
Din Tai Fung’s Xiao Long Bao has three components, all made from scratch at the restaurant: a soup stock, simmered overnight; pork ground fresh every morning; a dough made hourly, lest it dry out and become too stiff to work.
The cooled broth is mixed with pork, ginger, green onion and sesame oil and nestled in a packet with 18 precise folds (18 is a lucky number in Chinese culture).
The dough, rolled with a traditional dowel, must be thinner at the edges so it can be folded, and thicker at the centre so it can hold the soup. Dumpling trainees drape the dough over a special light box to learn how to get the exact thickness.
“It is that difficult, and that simple,” said Yang.
In the dumpling room, 40 dumpling makers are at work.
“It’s a very skilled position,” said Yang. The dumpling trainers have been in Vancouver for months, working with the staff.
Yang, who was born in Taiwan, and whose father helped grow the Din Tai Fung empire, remembers the original shop in Taipei, with the narrow staircase to the top floor, and the hospitality his grandfather, who died in 2023, showed to every guest.
“In Taiwan at that time there were no elevators, so he carried a disabled guest on his back up that tiny little staircase so he could dine with his friends. It shows the humility and dedication he had, and his ethic about treating our guests like family.”
You might not have to get your own tea, or make your own dumplings, and yes, there is an elevator, but if they get it right, Yang hopes you will feel like part of the family.
See these historical photos of the family:
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