Posted by Teresa Cheng in chinese, restaurant review on August 6, 2008 at 8:06 am

Chinese Traditional Buns
536 Dundas Street West
416-299-9011
Dinner for two with all taxes, tip and tea: $29 (cash only)

There must be something right about meat wrapped in carbs. Most cultures have a variation on the combo, ranging from Ukrainian to Mongolian to Italian. And the Chinese, particularly the northeastern Chinese, are no different. Right in the heart of Chinatown is Chinese Traditional Buns, tucked away unimpressively in the basement of a building, where a taste of northern Chinese cuisine can be had, if you know where to find it.

The atmosphere at Chinese Traditional Buns is similar to many of the delicious, immigrant-owned restaurants in the city – sparsely decorated, florescent-lit and bare boned. Rather than discouraging me from dining there, the characteristics of the restaurant made me even more excited about my culinary excursion because these are pretty reliable signs of good-tasting, large-portioned and reasonably-priced regional cuisine. However, do not be fooled by the restaurant's name - the fare and selection go far beyond just buns.

Taking pride in my substantial knowledge base of Chinese cuisine, I took the lead and ordered for my dining partner and myself. I purposely chose dishes that were both my favourites and representative of northern Chinese cuisine.

We started off with spicy and sour bean jelly ($4.99), which is thick, “clear” noodles made from mung bean starch, dressed with a garlic, soy and chili oil sauce, topped with a generous amount of crushed peanuts, green onions and fresh cilantro. The noodles were light and refreshing, perfect in the sweltering Toronto heat. The sauce was a classic Chinese marinade, flavourful and strong, and paired with the cool noodles, it made for an appropriate starter to the dinner.

Next, we had the sliced pork dressed with garlic ($5.99). This dish is one of my comfort dishes, one I never forget to order when I’m back home in the motherland. So I had high expectations. The pork was drizzled with a sauce that was similar to the one used in the bean jelly dish. Unfortunately, rather than being served a plate of thinly-sliced pork, we were presented with slices that varied in thickness. A big part of enjoying this dish is the oral experience of the thin, fatty slices of pork melting in the mouth. Because the slices here were randomly chopped, the oral aspect of the dish was thwarted. It would have been fantastic had I not known what the restaurant was trying to go for, but because I had those expectations, I was not as enthusiastic as my dining partner.

The stars of the night – soup-filled meat buns of Kaifeng (six for $3.99) and chives and pork dumplings (12 for $4.99) – arrived at around the same time. The meat buns came inside the bamboo steamer they were cooked in. The “soup-filled” part of the dish refers to the juice that gets cooked out of the meat filling and sits in the wrapper that holds everything together. So with the first bite into each bun came a rush of warm soup. The soup was rich, which was a result of the meat filling being cooked inside an enclosed pocket, which helped infuse the flavours of the pork, ginger, green onion, sesame oil and soy sauce. The chives and pork dumplings burst with the potency of the chives, balanced with the muted flavour of the pork.

The final dish was the Lanzhou style beef noodle soup ($5.99). The stock was savoury, yet refreshing, great for people like myself who, oddly, crave soup in the summer. The slices of beef were, however, a disappointment. They tasted like they were simply cooked in boiling, salty water, as opposed to having been braised for many hours. The noodles, I thought, made up for the unexciting beef. They were cooked to the perfect chewy consistency. I loved the noodles so much that I went back a second time just to try another noodle dish – pickled mustard plant and pork noodle soup.

Chinese Traditional Buns also serves a variety of casseroles, soups, dry noodles, house specialties (not signature dishes, but comfort foods that are often eaten at home) and even more types of wontons, buns and dumplings. Vegetarian options are not abundant; it looked like every section in the menu had only one vegetarian dish.

The service at the restaurant is like that of most hole-in-the-wall places – brisk, efficient and meeting the requirements. The servers are not particularly friendly, but do provide adequate service.

One downside of Chinese Traditional Buns is its physical inaccessibility. The restaurant is located in the basement portion of a building, with 12 steps leading down to the entrance, making it very difficult or even impossible for some to make it in.

But the inaccessibility of the restaurant also reminds me that some of Toronto’s most affordable and tasty immigrant-run restaurants are hidden in between more upscale stores, in basements and in the nooks and crannies of our city.