Gai mei bao (ji wei bao in Mandarin), also known as cocktail bun or coconut bun in English, and is literally translated into “chicken tail bun,” is one of the most popular types of bao in a Chinese bakery. It was originally made (according to Chinese food legends) from the scraps of leftover bread and dough at Chinese bakeries, where they’d mash together leftover scraps of bread with some sugar, butter, and coconut and try to sell them as actual bao the next day. It’s called “chicken tail” bao because of the shape of the bun itself, so there’s no actual chicken or tail in it. I always loved this bao, but I didn’t actually find out what it was called in English until several years ago. I’d try to order “coconut bao” in English and Chinese at bakeries, but I was not consistently getting the same thing handed to me. Sometimes, it would just be a plain milk-type bun with coconut sprinkled on top (ugh, so boring and plain). Other times, it would be stuffed with just coconut but nothing else. There wasn’t that buttery, coconuty, slightly sweet gooey filling on the inside that I really loved.

So the other day, I decided to do a side by side tasting of three ji wei bao: one from Nice One Bakery, one from Mei Lai Wah (famous for its long lines and pineapple cha siu bao that I think have too much fat pieces stuck in them), and one from Manna House Bakery. I always loved the Mei Lai Wah one, but I strongly disliked the lines. Plus, when I’d try to pick one up later in the day, they’d oftentimes be sold out of it, as they didn’t make as many of them as they do the bo lo cha siu bao. The Manna House Bakery one is my go-to since there’s no line or wait; it costs $1.75, the same as Nice One, which I’d never had before. Mei Lai Wah’s was the most expensive at $2.50 + tax, so $2.70. That’s over 57% more for the Mei Lai Wah one!

Well, I took them all home and sliced them to see their innards. I laid them all out side by side. The verdict? The Nice One was the worst with the least amount of filling. It was nearly pathetic and a sad excuse for a ji wei bao; that’s the first and last time I ever get one from there. The Manna House one had good filling and was tasty as always, but honestly, it could not compare to how much filling the Mei Lai Wah ji wei bao had: Mei Lai Wah’s was STUFFED to the brim with filling. Plus, the filling was just richer and had a stronger, more defined mouthfeel. The filling color for the Mei Lai Wah one was much more yellow, whereas the Manna House one was more white, which likely indicates how much more butter the Mei Lai Wah version has (for better or for worse… for taste or for your cholesterol…).

I will still get the Manna House ji wei bao out of convenience, but the best ji wei bao/gai mei bao in Manhattan Chinatown is most definitely the Mei Lai Wah one. I will always go there for the best version assuming I’m there earlier in the day and there’s no wait. I’ll never get the Nice One ji wei bao again, but I do quite love their baked cha siu bao and baked bo lo cha siu bao. Maybe my next taste test of Chinatown bakery items will be a true side by side of the bo lo/pineapple cha siu bao from Nice One, Mei Lai Wah, and Manna House next!

Since I was going to be in the Chinatown/SoHo area for Kaia’s Halloween parade yesterday, I decided to book a 15-minute oolong tea tasting at Chi Cha San Chen Taiwan Tea, which opened last summer on Bayard off of Mott Street. I had never heard of them before, but they had lines around the block when they opened for months and months. I always wanted to go, but I refused to wait in the crazy line. Chi Cha San Chen is a high-end tea shop based in Taichung, Taiwan. They make tea drinks with pure tea leaves grown in Taiwan (no powders), and make all their own toppings, like tapioca, jellies, etc. They differentiate themselves with what they call a “teaspresso” machine that is supposed to brew tea to ideal conditions. I had never heard of them before (and definitely didn’t know about them when we went to Taiwan in June-July 2017), but I found out that they have won international taste tests for their oolong teas. Some have called Chi Cha San Chen “Michelin-star-like” tea in the tea community. Though I am an avid tea drinker and always intrigued by different, pure teas (none of the flavored garbage. Yes, I’m looking at you, David’s Tea, UGH), I always find it a bit amusing whenever I hear about tea “awards” since tea is pretty personal. What could be delicious for one person can be completely revolting for the next.

The tea tasting was a bit of a disappointment. I thought I would get to try several teas, but instead, they only let me choose one out of the five types of Taiwanese oolong they sell. They told me that if I came back with up to three friends, we could all choose a different one so we could taste four at the same time, one each. I was not happy with this, but I figured I’d just choose one and come back at a later time. I chose the medium strength oolong. They precisely measured out exactly three grams of tea, then poured in perfectly measured tea at a specific temperature and brewed for six minutes on the dot. They strained and poured it for me in a cup that is shaped like a chawan. They wouldn’t let me have any second or third infusions (what a waste!!). While the tea was very aromatic, almost floral, and not even the least bit bitter or acidic, the “tasting” experience put me off. Tastings are supposed to include more than just one, otherwise it just seems like a sad, glorified sample. Plus, the price was quite exorbitant: 15 grams of tea, or exactly five brewings, for $22. Ouch. I’ve bought plenty of premium tea before, but only one of them, the “Chanel” of green teas, which was a bamboo green, that I got while in Sichuan, topped this price.

I think I will stick with their tea lattes and made-to-order drinks, which are all made with loose leaf, instead of trying out their vacuum-sealed loose leaf ones. I liked it, but not enough to buy it to make at home. That just seemed a bit too steep for me.