The fascination with truck food has reached a fevered obsession. I hear rumors of a “dumpling truck” on the streets of Manhattan and immediately head for Mad Me-Shell’s office.“We must find this mythical dumpling truck!” I insist, like some kind of addict seeking a fix.
A few quick taps on her keyboard and Mad Me-Shell produces the answer – Rickshaw Dumpling Truck at 45th Street and 6th Avenue. Their slogan – “We believe that dumplings taste better in the street.”
“How did people eat before the Internet?” muses Mad Me-Shell.
We all but sprint down 6th Avenue. During our speed walk, we have some time to reflect on the virtues of truck food. What about it, exactly, has so completely consumed us? And, why don’t we get the same kind of rush from a street cart vendor, of which there are hundreds in Manhattan?
Mad answers unequivocally. “I don’t eat street meat.”
Growing up in the suburbs, food wasn’t mobile. It came from the kitchen. Perhaps the appeal of truck food is the inherent mystery of a sparkling vehicle that magically appears on a street corner bearing food. Maybe it’s the artisanal quality of the food, made on the premises. Or, maybe it’s the low overhead, affordable prices and no need for a reservation. After all, there’s always a table available on 6th Avenue.
We turn the corner of 45th Street, and there stands the mystical, raspberry-colored Rickshaw Dumpling Truck, opened for business. It’s like encountering Shangri-La in the mist for the very first time. There are probably 20 or more smartly dressed urban professionals in line and we cue up behind them. A chalk board lists the specials of the day, and there’s a nice shade tree protecting us from the harmful rays of the sun.Here, I must note that Rickshaw Dumpling Bar has a bricks and mortar location in the Flatiron district. The truck is kind of a mobile brand extension, for those of us who are too lazy to hop a subway downtown. If you’re not already starving, check out their website for key moments in dumpling history.
I order their signature menu item - Classic Pork & Chinese Chive Dumplings with cabbage, ginger, scallion and soy-sesame dipping sauce, as well as a side of Chili Sesame Noodle Salad. You get six hot dumplings in one of those smart white cardboard takeout boxes. Mad Me-Shell goes for broke and requests both an order of Classic Pork as well as Chicken & Thai Basil with spicy peanut dipping sauce. The whole order is wrapped up in spiffy brown paper tote bags – all the accoutrements of takeout, but with instant gratification.We take a seat under some nearby trees. Mad offers me a taste of the Chicken & Thai. The dumplings are succulent and the peanut sauce has a smooth and spicy kick.
Mad is indeed “chopstick proficient.” I am a klutz (maybe it’s all those people on the street staring at me), but within due time I develop a “stab and lift” technique that manages to get the dumplings into my mouth.
At this point, I completely forget my table manners. “Are you sure you have room for 12 dumplings?” I ask Mad Me-Shell.A slight chill engulfs 45th Street.
“Uh, that would be ELEVEN dumplings,” she points out, indignantly. “You ate one of mine.”
I decide to focus on my Chili Sesame Noodle Salad.
My alfresco faux pas aside, we agree that the pork dumplings are indeed a classic. And, the Chicken & Thai Basil is nothing short of high cuisine. You can see the steam rising off the plump, glossy, pillows. The dumplings are fresher, hotter, more tender and flavorful than anything I’ve consumed in a restaurant. With truck food, consumption is almost instantaneous. Your entrée never idles on a warming tray, waiting to be delivered to the table.
Clean-up is a breeze. Everything goes back into the brown paper bag and dropped in a nearby trash can. And, no haggling over the tip. The hike back to the office is helpful in suppressing any potential for a dumpling coma, so we’ve had an outstanding meal, and a little exercise.
Who needs full-service dining, anyway?©2009 T.W. Barritt all Rights Reserved
