Ask your parents where to go for dim sum and chances are Maria Restaurant will make the list. Unfortunately, Maria’s days of glory are over and a visit to the long-standing restaurant may leave you half-contented. The décor remains as patrons from the past will remember it. Rows of funhouse mirrors still stand at the same spot in front of the restrooms. Heavy curtains continue to make the inside dark even in broad daylight. And the bric-a-brac of spacious wooden flooring, round tables, antiquated air-conditioning units and worn-out Thai artifacts lend the space a slightly shoddy feel. All of this is set off by saffron-colored napkins and blue neon lighting. And old-school servers in bow ties appear to be lost in time like the rest of the place. None of this keeps regulars from coming back for the extensive menu of steamed specialties. Ordering is easy: just choose your favorites from the photographed menu. On weekends, the staff circulate around the dining room with a cart of dim sum trays for your picking and pointing pleasure. Sadly, the quality of Maria’s dim sum has dropped from excellent to ordinary, and a few selections have fallen even farther. On good days, be prepared to be wowed by piping hot har gao with generous shrimp stuffing and fluffy steamed buns with custard filling. On bad days (and there are more and more of these lately), you’re likely to be put off by lukewarm gummy pork sui maai and chewy bite-sized pork spareribs. If you prefer something heartier, the menu features a variety of Chinese dishes, including fancy items like shark fin soup with crab meat and Peking Duck. Even the recommended Yeung Chow-style fried rice that includes small cubes of ham and barbecued red pork failed to impress: The rice was unforgiveably soggy and the overall taste was a bit too sweet, and with basic cooking skills, one could easily whip up this dish at home and put Maria to shame. Raat naa pla tao si (noodles with deep-fried fish fillets in black bean sauce) was better, but hardly a standout. Maria has managed to survive the winds of change with scores of loyal followers—a feat all the more impressive considering that the restaurant opens for only 3 hours a day. If you’re in the neighborhood, by all means drop in for a shot of nostalgia, but these dumplings aren’t worth crossing town for.
