In 1932, when Japan invaded Harbin, a city in Manchuria, Jenny Hu’s grandmother ran a restaurant. “They liked it so much that they didn’t kill her,” says Hu, who carries on her grandmother’s legacy and secrets with her beloved Dutchess County restaurant Palace Dumpling. “This is northern Chinese cooking,” she says of the cuisine offered. “Every region in China does things differently and this is our way. Nothing has changed over the years.”
Hu met Joe Conetta, an environmental pathologist, in her homeland. They got married and opened Palace Dumpling on Route 9 in Wappingers Falls 14 years ago. The place rose to legendary status. (Underneath the main desk, they still keep a hard copy of the November 2014 issue of Chronogram that profiled the spot.)
Word has long since spread to students at Marist College and the Culinary Institute of America, but because taking an Uber or getting delivery is pricey, Hu decided to go to them, adding another location. Opened in February, Palace Dumpling’s second spot is located at the northern border of the Town of Poughkeepsie in a sprawling new strip mall filled with fast food outlets. The place is so cavernous, Hu put a map on the paper menus.
Compared to the carved wood panels with faux jade designs at the original location, the décor at Palace Dumpling Poughkeepsie is full-on kitsch, though it never distracts from the fare. The new place is also much brighter. The large parking lot replaced portions of the Hudson River State Hospital, an abandoned psychiatric institution once popular with people who enjoy exploring historic ruins. On a hill above the stores, several gothic structures are being torn down to make way for its modern replacement. Palace Dumpling’s façade and interior blend in with the nondescript retail surroundings, but don’t be fooled. Hu’s grandmother’s cooking techniques notwithstanding, Hu’s secret to success is simple and fail-proof: Every dish is scratch-made with fresh ingredients to-order.
Peer into the kitchen, where two women knead, roll, fill, and shape dumplings from 11am to 9pm every day (except Tuesday). Hu is eager to strap on an apron and knead clumps of dough for the noodle dishes, passing each portion through a manual cutting machine.
Subtle, yet sublime flavors and textures blend in harmony. Except where indicated, spices are used in a sparing, understated manner. Nothing stands out–in a good way–unless hot sauce is added. The vegetable dumplings ($11.99 for 12 steamed, fried is $2.00 extra) crunch with authority and reveal a tinge of ginger. No two are exactly the same, of course, but the dough-to-filling ratio is yin-yang perfect.
Sesame Noodle ($11.99) lacks the chewy texture and the blast of high-sodium brownish goo served at some Chinese food emporiums. Here, the understated sauce, which includes real sesame seeds that can get stuck in the teeth, is complemented by a generous blanket of cucumbers, carrots and onion on top, elevating what can be a more pedestrian dish in less deft hands.
Palace Dumpling offers fare that appears on Chinese food menus across the land: wonton soup, fried rice and chicken lo mein. Lesser-known items include spicy tiger vegetable ($12.99), celery bean curd stick ($6.99), and Agair vegetables with horseradish ($6.99).
Because the kitchen in the new place is bigger, Hu can offer a six-piece dumpling soup with pork ($15.99) and beef ($16.99) along with fiery hotpot mala tang. A vegetarian medley ($12.99) serves as the base. In the protein servings, quail eggs join chicken ($14.99) and beef ($16.99), along with fish and shrimp ($17.99, the most expensive items on the menu).
The menu includes over 30 dumpling offerings across seven categories from vegetable to seafood. Some dumpling stuffing combinations may seem to make strange bedfellows, like lamb with squash ($13.99 steamed), pork with shrimp and chive ($13.99), egg with zucchini ($12.99) and chicken with corn ($12.99). But suspend your disbelief until you’ve tried.
Angela and Michael Medel swear by the Shrimp with chive and egg ($15.99). They came from New Paltz, happy that one of their favorite spots moved closer to their abode. Their toddler is a picky eater, but likes just about everything she’s tried here. Poughkeepsie native Sara Adler says enthusiastically, “They make their own noodles and you can taste it. Their fried rice is unbelievable, you have to try the egg and chive dumplings, and the sauces are amazing.” (That’s two votes, now, for the egg and chive.) The popular precious fluids are limited for take-out, but the soy, sweet ginger soy, chili oil, and garlic vinegar flow freely for in-house diners.
In an age of processed convenient food, Jenny Hu maintains tradition by serving fresh, handmade fare that has brought her family some local fame. Sometimes, it takes a strip mall to magnify the legacy.
