TMG Blog

One bottle against fifteen dim sum dishes

The trolley has been past three times, the table has har gow, siu mai, cheung fun, a plate of fried taro dumplings, chicken feet and a basket of char siu bao on it, and there are two more steamers coming. Somebody has poured you pu-erh. You have one bottle of wine and roughly fifteen dishes to get through in ninety minutes.

This is the case where the usual question — what goes with this dish — stops being useful. Nothing goes with all fifteen. The real question for a Cantonese lunch is different: which wine interferes least, and resets your palate fastest between things that have nothing in common.

What you are actually asking the wine to survive

Run through the table honestly. Har gow is delicate and slightly sweet — prawn has natural glycine and it reads as sweetness — with a translucent wrapper and nothing aggressive in it. Siu mai is pork fat and dried shrimp, savoury and much heavier. Cheung fun arrives swimming in sweetened soy, so it is salt plus sugar together. Fried taro dumpling is lard and deep-fried starch. Chicken feet are braised in fermented black bean and chilli and are almost entirely gelatin and salt. Char siu bao is a sweet bun around a sweet filling.

Three of those are delicate, three are fatty, two are sweet, and most are salty. A wine with a strong personality will dominate the delicate ones and get flattened by the sweet ones. A wine with high tannin will fight the steamed seafood. What survives all of it is acid, moderate alcohol, and restraint.

One more variable that no pairing article mentions: you are drinking tea at the same time. Pu-erh and other dark teas carry real tannin, and a mouthful of strong tea immediately before a mouthful of wine makes the wine taste thin and bitter. Drink water in between if you care about the wine, or accept that the tea is winning.

The default: something sparkling, and specifically not the driest one

Bubbles do two mechanical jobs here. Carbon dioxide physically lifts fat off the tongue, and the acidity of a traditional-method sparkling wine resets your palate between the taro dumpling and the har gow. This is why Champagne is the standard recommendation for dim sum, and the standard recommendation is right.

It is also expensive, so here is the useful detail: go Brut, not Extra Brut or Brut Nature. A Brut carries roughly 6 to 12 grams per litre of residual sugar, and that small amount of sugar is exactly what keeps the wine from tasting sour against the sweetened soy on the cheung fun and the sugar in the char siu bao. The fashionable zero-dosage bottles are the worse choice here, not the better one.

Alternatives that do the same job for less: Crémant de Loire, made largely from Chenin Blanc, which has more orchard-fruit weight than most Crémants; Franciacorta, made the same way as Champagne with similar ageing; or a Cava that has been aged well beyond the entry level. All three sit comfortably in the HK$180–400 band.

If you want a still white

You want aromatic definition without aromatic aggression, and enough acid to keep working through the fried courses.

  • Grüner Veltliner from Kamptal or Kremstal. Its white-pepper character sits alongside ginger and spring onion rather than arguing with them, and the acid is high.
  • Albariño or Godello from Galicia. Saline, citrus-driven, textured enough for siu mai but never loud.
  • Dry Chenin Blanc from Vouvray or Anjou. Quince and chamomile, high acid, a waxy texture that handles fried food better than a lean wine does.
  • Dry Furmint from Hungary. High acid, smoky, still under-priced for what it is.

Riesling belongs in this group and it works. It has just been recommended so often, for so many different Asian dishes, that it has stopped carrying information. A dry Alsace or Clare Valley Riesling is a good dim sum wine. So are the four above, and they will not have been on the table last time.

If you want red

You can, with conditions: low tannin, high acid, served cool at around 14 degrees. Cru Beaujolais, Schiava from Alto Adige, chilled Cinsault from South Africa, or a light village Pinot Noir. These work best from the siu mai onward — that is, once the fatty and braised dishes arrive. On har gow they add nothing.

Two things that genuinely do not work

The first is heavily oaked Chardonnay with steamed prawn dishes. Vanillin and toast from new oak against the iodine and mineral character of shellfish produces a metallic, slightly bitter result. Unoaked Chardonnay is fine. It is the barrel, not the grape.

The second is tannic red with anything steamed and marine. There is a specific mechanism here that is worth knowing: iron in wine catalyses the oxidation of the unsaturated fats in fish and shellfish, and the aldehydes that result taste unmistakably fishy. Wines with higher iron content produce a stronger effect. So this is not an arbitrary rule about colour — a low-iron light red is much safer with a prawn dumpling than a big red is, and that is the actual reason.

The one everybody suggests and few people test is New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. It is not wrong, it is just loud. Its green, passionfruit-and-cut-grass character is more assertive than har gow is, and by the third dish it is the only thing you can taste. If your table is mostly fried and braised dishes it holds up. If it is mostly steamed, it does not.

None of this is a rule. It is a set of reasons. Bring the bottle you want and now you know what it is walking into.

Where to start

The wine that survives fifteen dishes is the one that resets your palate fastest rather than the one with the most personality — and against sweetened soy and char siu bao, a Brut carries the few grams of sugar that keep it from tasting sour. Start with the bubbles and keep a high-acid still white in reserve.

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