Best dumpling restaurants to try for World Dumpling Day 2026
Published 24 September 2026

A few blocks from the South Promenade and Blackpool's Pleasure Beach, this neighbourhood Indian is everybody's idea of an invaluable local resource – ‘it definitely makes Highfield Road a better place to eat, drink and socialise,’ notes one resident. The name means something like 'At the sign of the pomegranate', and behind a leafy-green frontage, the place exudes a family feeling, with cooking that is steeped in the Subcontinent's ancestral traditions. Sharing platters encourage a sense of togetherness (try the yakni Kashmiri pulao served straight from the stove), although most of the menu works in the expected way, with naan breads and parathas served alongside main dishes such as beef bagla bhuna, Afghan chicken or a family-style lamb curry.  You might preface these treats with Darjeeling chicken momo (dumplings) or the unmissable lahsuni houmous accompanied by a tandoori roti. Other attractions include a highly popular supper club, occasional live music, charity events and a proper Indian breakfast/brunch offer. Varietal wines do their job, while fruity cocktails offer a true taste of Blackpool. 

A wave of panic has swept through South Kensington. It seems TFL plan to expand the tube station, developing the buildings around it, one of which houses Daquise, London’s oldest Polish restaurant (established in 1947). This threat to its continued existence has sparked such a resurgence of interest that it now has a new lease of life and pressure on tables has doubled.

As it last appeared in the Guide in 1987, we thought we should take another look. Our findings? There’s no doubt Daquise is an institution and the Guide is glad to have it back in the listings. Outside remains unpromising, but inside is a noisy, high-ceilinged, chandelier-hung dining room (much larger than we remembered – we suspect two rooms have been knocked through), with plenty of white-clad tables and a brigade of thoroughly professional waiting staff. The menu deals in reasonably priced Polish classics, and we were particularly impressed by the Polish-style stuffed eggs and the ‘ruskies’ (pierogi dumplings made with cheese, potato and onion), followed by generous plates of pan-fried calf's liver with apple and onions as well as a spot-on veal schnitzel topped with a fried egg and served with mashed potato.

To drink, there’s a line-up of straight and flavoured vodkas – we loved the orzechówka (hazelnut) version with our sweet cheese-stuffed pancake – as well as a straightforward list of European wines starting at £26. And the good news is that with a six-month break clause in their lease (yet to be invoked), you still have time to try it yourselves before it's gone.

‘Cheap, delicious and authentic,’ is one snappy verdict on this constantly rammed, no-bookings Chinese. Queues come with the territory, long waits are inevitable and the whole experience can seem a tad perfunctory, but there’s no disputing the sheer quality of the food. Regulars praise everything from the Shanghai dumplings in soup (‘great depth of flavour’) to the BBQ roast duck, ‘beautifully cooked’ salt-and-pepper squid and a host of peasant-style regional specialities. Also try the 'dazzling' prawn wontons with house-made salad cream (a throwback to old Hong Kong). To drink? Bubble tea, perhaps. Helpings are more than generous, so expect to be well-fed.

‘They have the longest noodles I’ve ever eaten,’ declared an ardent fan of this cheap, cheerful and highly delicious eatery on Walworth Road. Homely decor sets the scene (vintage wooden furniture, tiled walls, big mirrors), while the kitchen specialises in regional cuisine from the Xinjiang province in north-west China – so the menu is also big on fried dumplings and skewered BBQ ‘shish’ (try the cumin-spiced lamb). Helpings are large for the price, culminating in the must-order da jan pi (aka ‘big plate chicken’) – a chunky stew loaded with pieces of free-range chicken, potatoes, peppers and handmade belt noodles. The place is always packed with locals and service is brisk, although there’s no rush to leave. Drink Chinese tea.

It’s noisy and tightly packed but what really stands out is the service: here is a Chinese eatery where the staff are genuinely friendly and cheerful, tending to everyone’s needs with ‘unobtrusive efficiency’. Like the Xi’an Impressions original in north London, the food is an ‘outright bargain’ and truly authentic, with top honours going to the long, flat, hand-pulled noodles from Shaanxi province: the minced beef and vegetable version comes highly recommended. Other ‘deeply satisfying’ platefuls show off the kitchen’s street-food repertoire, from spicy smacked cucumber to the now-famous stewed pork burger. Portions are exceedingly generous.

The formula could hardly be simpler: izakaya-style eats and drinks at the back end of the week in a simple white-walled space lit by paper globe lanterns in the evening. Much of Margate's culinary renaissance has been happening along the Northdown Road, and Mori Mori is an integral part of it. Regulars never fail to praise the uplifting atmosphere, which has none of the stuffiness of formal Japanese dining. Smartly compiled sushi boxes, noodle dishes teeming with umami seasonings, okonomiyaki and gyoza options, and a list of savoury nibbles all press the right buttons. It feels like 'clean healthy cooking', but without the earnestness, and staff invariably make everybody feel welcomed like old friends – the modest dimensions of the place giving it an intimate feel. Nobody would forgive us for failing to mention the matcha cheesecake with malted caramel crumb and coconut, which has its confirmed devotees. Sake and skin-contact wines lead the drinks range.

Since opening in 2015, Dong Huang’s no-frills, 20-seater handmade noodle and dumpling spot has acquired quite a following among students, academics and in-the-know locals. You can't book, and there's often a queue before the shutters are raised – although that's part of the fun. Top calls are the xiao long bao (steamed soup dumplings), which you can see being made in the open kitchen, although the laminated menu holds other treasures too. Expect myriad dishes made with their delightfully chewy handmade noodles (from soups to fiery stir-fries), plus a host of steamed buns, congees and spiced beef tendon. It’s Shanghainese comfort food at its best. Cash only.

Readers might remember Poon’s in Chinatown and Covent Garden from '70s and '80s editions of The Good Food Food Guide and Amy Poon, who grew up and worked in her parents' restaurant, has brought the family business back to life in the New Wing of Somerset House. Expect Chinese home cooking including an exceptional sesame prawn toast, the family's signature wind-dried sausage and freshly made wontons. It's worth knowing about the pre-theatre set menu for £28 per person.

On Southampton’s main pedestrianised shopping street, Shanghai Bay is nevertheless as inconspicuous as can be. Look for the tiny frontage next to a Wendy’s hamburger joint and clamber up a flight of stairs. The capacious first-floor restaurant will immediately take you back to Chinatowns of old: red lanterns everywhere, a large dragon mural in relief, round tables for parties (full of Chinese families on our visit), and stackable red-upholstered metal-framed chairs.

Service also induces a feeling of nostalgia – it's buzzy but brusque, although the waiters warm to anyone ordering ‘proper’ Chinese food from the vast menu. Dim sum is served all day, although evening orders are likely to yield lunchtime dishes kept warm for too long, such as our sticky rice with wind-dried meats. Best were the freshly cooked specialities from the main menu: a high-class rendition of ‘pig kidney seafood with seasonal veg in broth’, which highlighted the humble egg (served poached, salted and in a gelatinous 1000-year version), matched with an admirable seafood broth, nuggets of kidney and plenty of gai lan. A dozen deep-fried oysters were also crisp and succulent in all the right places.

Dim sum dishes that didn’t need to be served à point were also enjoyable – from tender ‘mixed beef tripe’ (mostly honeycomb) to sweet, doughy salted-egg custard buns. Good, too, were the freshly fried mixed meat croquettes with their crisp exteriors, chewy rice pastry and flavourful fillings. Drinks prices are invigoratingly low: just £1 per person for a big pot of fermented pu-erh tea, and £4.95 for full glasses of the basic house wine. 

The Wen family hails from Shandong province (between Beijing and Shanghai), and the cooking of that eastern region – along with some excursions into the Szechuan repertoire – constitutes the backbone of their appealing city-centre venue. Café-style decor beneath a raftered ceiling creates an informal atmosphere, while the menu deals in lively home-style cooking. 

Where better to start than with Mrs Wen's minced pork dumplings, pleasingly hefty specimens with soy and chilli for dipping? A sizeable portion of marinated jellyfish in coriander and chilli, textured with Chinese leaf, is deeply moreish, likewise chicken on the bone dressed in chilli oil (another terrific cold appetiser). The chef is also a dab hand when it comes to tofu, note the lip-numbing mapo, electrified with Szechuan peppercorns and doubanjiang (fermented bean paste). Lamb is still quite rarely seen on Chinese menus: here it appears in a passable stir-fry with onions and plenty of cumin. 

Looking to celebrate? look no further than the braised whole sea bass with bamboo shoots and black fungus, a showpiece dish and an absolute treat. To finish, plump for the deep-fried crispy red-bean paste. A wine list compiled in conjunction with Leeds' natural wine specialists, Wayward Wines, yields some enlivening possibilities. 

A taste of real-deal Nepalese cooking without having to endure a long-haul flight to Kathmandu, this cheery townhouse basement has all the homespun flavours and authentic artifacts you could wish for. The carte is quite short but group menus offer much more variety – and great value too. Meat eaters might plump for spiced pork momo dumplings, peppery bhutuwa chicken or the YYY lamb suffused with cumin; others could pick butternut squash and braised chickpeas with turmeric or bakula banda (spicy stir-fried white cabbage and broad beans), followed by kesariko dahi (creamed saffron yoghurt with marinated oranges and crushed pistachios). Citrussy Nepalese Kuwa beer is the drink of choice.

A real diamond in the rough, you might easily walk past the unprepossessing front of this Chinese café without realising the delights that await within. However, step inside the tiny DIY-decorated space and grab a chair at the counter overlooking the open kitchen, and you’ll witness magic at work. James Kirk-Gould, formerly head chef at that high-rise 24-hour London restaurant Duck & Waffle, now offers extraordinarily good-value Chinese home cooking in this Birmingham suburb – currently in the sweet spot of gentrification (it's still scruffy and cheap, but there's cool stuff to do and eat here and a palpable sense of community). Kirk-Gould is helped front of house by partner Cassie, whose fudge-making business next door provides the sauce for the soft-serve ice cream that is the café’s only pudding. Eating here feels a bit like having dinner with friends, partly because of the warm welcome but also because the menu is so short that you more or less have to eat what you’re given. If that’s the much-praised fried chicken, served crisp and crunchy in a puddle of chilli oil and Szechuan peppercorns with, say, a side of smacked cucumbers, beaten about and then macerated in lightly spiced sesame oil, you will marvel at the freshness and flavour. The drinks menu, also brief, offers Tsingtao beer, as well as green and chrysanthemum tea if you want to stay authentic. Just like the food, the bill will astonish you for all the right reasons.

Coventry doesn’t make a show of it, but genuine Chinese mainland food can be unearthed in the city. Look for the signs: several ethnic supermarkets in the centre of town; a stall at the indoor market selling esoteric specialities; lots of Chinese students and this unassuming restaurant. As you enter the simple, brightly lit premises, you’ll be immediately convinced (and comforted) that this is no anglicised ‘chicken and cashews' joint. The neon-lit sign is in Chinese script, as is much of the voluminous menu. Tables are easy-wipe, there's no alcohol licence and the dining room is populated by a young crowd. Even if you're au fait with the intricacies of authentic Chinese food, you may need a few minutes to get to grips with the huge menu. Szechuan cuisine dominates, and many of the dishes come topped with a forbidding layer of dried red chillies and chilli oil. Numbing Szechuan peppercorns further assault the tongue in impressively huge concoctions such as ‘Szechuan-style pig’s red, with hairy belly’ (the enigmatic translation adding to the allure). Here, beneath the fiery, oily surface you’ll find rectangles of shiny blood pudding, segments of springy beef tripe, tantalisingly resilient black fungus, and… slices of Spam. Yet there’s also plenty of opportunity to savour food that's gentler on the palate: an appetisingly seasoned plate of fried noodles with seafood, perhaps, or thin slices of highly savoury belly pork on a bed of pickled vegetables. At inspection, the standout dish was a generous bowlful of pork dumplings, their delicate wrappers submerged in a flavourful chilli-hot broth, with Chinese cabbage providing relief from the heat. Order steamed rice (not, as far as we could discern, on the menu) to counteract the ferocious spicing. Staff are admirably patient with newcomers, while pricing is moderate (given the gargantuan portions).