Long Island Restaurants

Shang Hai Pavilion

Shang Hai Pavilion (Photo by Bill Davis)

One of life's great mysteries is how the soup gets inside a Shanghai soup dumpling. Although the owners of Shang Hai Pavilion wouldn't reveal the secret of what they term "juicy dumplings," word has it that it's the gelatin in the chilled broth that allows it to be enclosed in dough with a meat-based filling. Later, when the stuffed wrapper is steamed, the soup liquefies again. The trick to eating such a dumpling is to plop it into a deep ceramic spoon, pierce it with the end of a chopstick, then sip off the savory-sweet liquid before finishing it off.

Although both the pork and the pork and crab juicy dumplings made for enjoyable eating, I was even more impressed with the turnip shortcakes, delicate puff pastries filled with pungent white shreds. Curry puffs, made with the same ethereal baked dough, enclosed a subtly spiced chicken filling.

The interiors of the light vegetarian "dou miao" dumplings were mostly of spinach. They were very good, better than the much heavier steamed chicken dumplings. Neither the oily overcooked scallion pancakes nor the salty ice-cold "drunken" chicken revealed the best this kitchen can do.

But the deeply flavorful corn chicken chowder did. So did the "country flavored" soup, tomato-y and brimming with vegetables. Both the seafood and the pork hot and sour soups packed a peppery, vinegary punch. And I liked the smokiness of the "qui cai" tofu vegetable soup, something I'm not used to seeing on Long Island menus.

Another unconventional soup -- one that qualified as an entire meal -- was the smoked fish and noodle soup, a sweet broth filled with fresh egg noodles and meaty smoked buffalo carp. On another visit, I enjoyed red-cooked buffalo carp's belly, oblongs of fish -- some parts a bit bony -- glazed with a sweetish brown sauce. More sweet than spicy, tangerine beef was neither as piquant nor as compelling as another batter-fried dish, crispy chicken with celery. Crispy shrimp with walnuts proved delectable -- plump deep-fried shellfish lightly coated with a coral-hued mayonnaise-like sauce.

In the case of the glazed spicy baby chicken, the poultry had been hacked into succulent bone-in pieces that had to be eaten carefully. The effort paid off. Comparable in texture to short ribs, the meat on the Wu Xi spareribs fell from the bones with a prod from chopsticks. If I had to pick a favorite, though, it would be the lion's head casserole, huge, soft pork meatballs served with baby bok choy. I didn't grow up in Shanghai, but, to me, the dish somehow tasted like home.

For dessert, a big bowl of sticky rice pudding was quite gluey. I preferred red bean cakes, another example of flaky puff pastry used to advantage.

Would it not be to the dining public's advantage if Long Island had more restaurants like Shang Hai Pavilion?

Reviewed by Joan Reminick, 4/21/06

Hours