I love dumplings. I give classes on dumplings. I basically look like a giant overstuffed dumpling. Needless to say, I’m all about dat dumpling lyfe. I’m always on the looking for new places to cop these little bundles of meat filled joy in and around the city. The last time I had dumplings in the West Island it was a catastrophe. The pitiful plateful of burned frozen dumplings were more disappointing than if season 8 of Game of Thrones was rewritten and then fucked up a second time. I didn’t let this one bad experience extinguish all hope of finding dumplings worth eating west of the 13. In the spring, I noticed a very unassuming store front when I was driving along St. Jean. I remember seeing the sign for this store. The sign was of a dumpling. Was this the sign I was waiting for? Finally after weeks of papered up windows and disappointed drive-bys, the windows were clear and there was signs of life… or signs of dumplings inside. I tried Mama Dumplings.
