The restaurant trade is Darwinian. Only the fittest should survive. How Dim-t has endured for since the mid-2000s and expanded into a mini chain of half a dozen outlets is an absolute mystery to this reviewer. He and his dining comrade visited the Hampstead original and were mostly disappointed from start to finish.
Dim-t (why an additional letter is appended to the name is utterly unclear) has evolved from its original steamed dumpling dim-sum proposition to offering what is billed as “a taste of Asia.” The term is patronising. There is no such thing as a taste of Europe, so why assume so for a much bigger landmass? Even chefs more highly talented than those working at dim-t might struggle to execute successfully offerings as varied as Indonesian nasi-goreng, Thai red curry and Korean fried chicken. To describe your dishes, which dim-t does, as “authentic, traditional, delicious” constitutes a misnomer on all counts. These conditions would only be satisfied were the customer a Brit with little experience of real Asian food. And, they had low expectations at the outset too.
Our evening in Hampstead began inauspiciously with the staff having no record of our booking – never a good sign. We were also told at the outset that the dim-t seasonal special of “longevity noodles” – launched to coincide with the pending Chinese New Year – was not available, since the necessary ingredients had not arrived. This was despite advertisements for the dish being present on all the tables.
It did not improve much. A snacking dish of prawn crackers with which we were initially presented was stale. An accompanying glass of South African Chenin Blanc tasted as if it had come from a bottle open for some time. All the acidity and drive had gone from the wine. The bottle itself looked like something off a supermarket shelf. To begin the more structured part of the meal, it seemed only logical to try a selection of dim sum. Despite having asked whether we could mix and match across fillings, we were told no, this was not possible. On the basis of the server’s recommendations, a set of pork and prawn dumplings and another of spicy beef duly arrived. Curiously, they came with a side that we had ordered to accompany our mains. It was hastily whisked away. We were told (and had to assume) that a fresh one was subsequently going to be prepared. My dining comrade was even less generous than I in her assessment of the dim sum. On a scale of one-to-ten, I scored them six. She offered four.
Dim-t somewhat redeemed itself with the mains and dessert, although the battle had already been lost by this stage. Crispy aromatic duck was certainly crispy, if less aromatic than we might have liked. There was also a disappointing ratio of meat relative to bone. The presence of the latter obviously helps boost the venue’s margins, but clearly reduces the pleasure for guests when consuming the dish. Fortuitously, the next offering of miso salmon (pictured) did comfortably hold its own and was a pleasing array of flavours, textures and colours. Mochi, or Japanese rice cakes, provided a solid finish, daintily arranged and tasty too.
A generous assessment of the venue would give plaudits to its décor (cool and contemporary without being intrusive or incongruous), the charisma of our main server and the relative value-for-money offering. Two people could comfortably eat and drink here for well less than £100. Fine dining this is not, but nor does it intend to be. However, rather than shining brightly, dim-t felt like a distinctly dim experience.