Every time we have a meal at Kiew Leaw Ning (Liaoning Restaurant), we like to play count the stereotypes. Grim-faced staff—one. Waitress picking her nose as she approaches our table—two. Massage parlor next door—three. Waitress with a thick mainland accent—four. Questionable hygiene—five. Funny menu translations—six. No other customers speaking Thai or English—seven. Cooks coming out to the dining room to watch CCTV—eight. Straight-out-of-the-‘70s framed posters of the Taj Mahal and other random locations on the wall—nine. And so on. The loser has to buy the first round of Tsingtao beer (large bottle)—so really everyone wins. In addition to the imported piju, there are at least two other reasons to like Keow Leow Ning. The best thing might be that it is open until 5am, which means we can stumble in after the bars close and fill our stomachs with homemade dumplings, braised fatty pork and greasy pan-fried vegetables. Or it might be those dumplings, which are excellent—and cheap. As for the Tsingtao, we only wish they’d invest in a refrigerator that works (but they do have ice). The first thing we always do is turn to the “staple food” page for the selection of dumplings, which come 10 to a plate. Basically they’re just variations on a theme—ground pork plus an herb or vegetable. We order “pork dumplings with fennel”—the “fennel” turns out to be ginger—and “baked pork dumplings”, which are not baked but steamed and then pan-fried on one side. The crescent-shaped dumplings here are smaller than what you find in most places, but deftly formed with what you’d guess are delicate hands—until you see the TV-loving (male) cooks. The stuffing is juicy and flavorful, and the ingredients are not ground so small that you can’t make out the individual flavors. Another guaranteed winner is the “shallot griddle cake”, which is freshly made, crisp without being too oily and great with beer. It’s not all dumplings at Keow Leow Ning, although dumplings are the only items on their extensive menu that we’d drive across town for. Creatures of habit, we order standards like braised bean curd and “kidney beans” (green beans) fried with spare ribs, both of which are respectable but also coated in enough oil to keep them warm throughout the meal. Shredded potato and peppers is another familiar item—we usually see this as a cold dish but here they also offer it hot. Speaking of “oil” and “hot,” if you choose to order one of the “kata” (hot plate) dishes (beef), we recommend that you stand clear of your table when you hear it coming—that or put on a welder’s helmet. The hot plates are covered with inverted bowls, which the waitress will want to remove as soon as she sets the plate down. Don’t let her. And don’t order the “noodles with sesame seeds”, unless you like chewy cold noodles with sesame paste that resembles peanut butter.
