Lai Lai Dumpling House is near Strake Jesuit, the high school I once attended in southwest Houston. Rumors used to swirl there that the restaurant’s dumplings were so good they would lure boys into playing hooky. When I recently heard that the restaurant had been renovated by new management, I was inspired to go back to check out the “new” Lai Lai. I wanted to see if the dumplings would re-plaster a familiar grin on my face.
It had been more than five years since my last meal there. Fresh paint and a younger, more attentive and energetic waitstaff were the two main differences I noticed at the new-and-improved Lai Lai. In the old days, the waitstaff usually consisted of a solitary grumpy older man or woman who was generally apathetic to guests. This time we were cheerfully greeted, quickly seated and our drink orders taken by a team of young servers.
Happily for me, the menu still has the old favorites I have so often reminisced about. In fact, as soon as I ordered the assorted steamed dumplings, I was suffused with a sense of contentment. I was about to enjoy a long-delayed dumpling fix.
The steamer tray of assorted dumplings contains beef, chicken, pork and veggie dumplings. Hints of garlic, green onion and sesame oil are consistent in each filling, but not too overbearing. You can tell which is which. I found myself favoring the meat dumplings, as the texture of the filling was more appealing. If I had to pick just one? The pork dumplings, they’ve got me hooked.
I was struck by how perfectly stuffed, folded and steamed the dumplings were. The wrappers were tender, the fillings robust. I sat there content and full, but willing to try still more. So we then asked for an order of chicken dumplings, fried this time instead of steamed. By the end of the hour, the two of us had consumed all 20 dumplings.
On a bad day, I respond to delivery of the restaurant check in the style of George Constanza of Seinfeld, with subtle jabs of anger directed towards the monetary reflection of my own consumption. But when the check arrived at Lai Lai, I didn’t feel like George. Even though we were disappointed in our inability to sample even more varieties of dumplings, our bellies were full – and so were our wallets. The meal, including soft drinks, cost us just $18. I walked out of Lai Lai feeling less like a hunched George and more like a psyched Kramer, pushing open the door exuding a sense of confident excitement.
Lai Lai Dumpling House, 9262 Bellaire, 713-271-0080
Hours: Mon.-Sun. 11 am-10 pm