Well… it was not good. All the dumplings had pretty much identical flavour. Bland. There was no oomph or energy about them. The fillings were dull and tired. Some of the dumpling skins were tough around the edges. It was like shopping centre food hall Chinese. Genuinely awful.

We were still keen to review a dim sum experience, so we left the food on the table and fled.

Ten minutes later we were seated at the heaving 8 On The Point restaurant in East Perth, which has queues out the door and hundreds of dim sum lovers – mostly Chinese families by the way – chowing down inside.

The difference between the two restaurants could not have been more stark. Silky, smooth, alabaster white and translucent dumpling wrappers were a hallmark of this large riverside restaurant. The fillings too were booming with flavour. Even the chilli oil condiment had greater flavour than that at the other place. The service, under restaurant boss Tim Lung, was fast and furious and helpful, and this despite a depleted roster of wait staff.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

Dim sum is comfort food with a capital D for diabetes. The very act of sitting in a restaurant as trolleys clatter by laden with chicken feet, squid tentacles and Shanghai dumplings brings on an instant dopamine hit. Such pleasure, such sated desires, such lust for food that goes down too easily and then sits like a brick in your lower abdomen because you always order too much. The clever cart drivers are like pilots, doing a go-around when you wave them off, but always nearby, until your resolve breaks and you wave them in for just one more landing. A quick touch and go to drop off a few more steamer baskets and they’re off again, re-entering the circuit for a fly-by of another table.

Squid tentacles are a staple of dim sum carts. Many are tough, cold and soggy with grease. These, on the other hand, were tender, hot and covered with a crunchy, crackling, barely-there batter, seasoned with chilli powder and salt. A little more salt would have been good but can’t complain. Importantly they were still good 10-15 minutes later, when we idly picked at the dish.

Wok fried radish cake was never a dish I would have ordered at a dim sum restaurant until I ate it for the first time at 8 On The Point about four or five years ago, which was the last time we visited. An epiphany? No, but damn close.

It is served with an XO sauce, arguably Hong Kong’s greatest gift to the world. 8’s XO is okay. The ingredients for this luxe sauce are very expensive. Believe it or not top-notch dried scallop and dried shrimp are more expensive, much more expensive, than the fresh stuff. It would be common sense for many restaurants to go light on the seafood components. Not saying they have at 8 On The Point, but their version lacked the big umami punch that an expensive, no holds barred XO delivers. Having said that, I’d still lick it off a flip-flop.

Fresh king prawn dumplings were the very apogee of dumpling construction. The wrappers were tender and silky, but robust enough to give a good chew. The prawn stuffing was chunky – not an over processed paste – and it had swagger: big flavours, but subtle too.

Shanghai dumplings – hand made at 8 On The Point – are those soup-filled creations which we have difficulty with. One should lever it on to a ceramic spoon, bite a nick out of the bottom part and allow the hot soup to cascade into the spoon from where it can be sipped. Such technique ensures you don’t suffer from third degree burns if you just pop the entire thing in your mouth and burst it. Ouch. The soup was clear and clean and ripping with flavour. The beef ball inside was soft, not the hard puck of over-processed filling one often gets. The scent of good beef and spices assaulted the nose and then the palate. Spot on.

Steamed prawn and chives dumpling was another exemplar. We often forget that the dumpling wrapper is the most important part of the dish (the same way that pasta is more important than the sauce in Italian cooking) and these were exemplars of dim sum steamed cookery.

Some advice: the dim sum menu is massive, which means many of the dishes do not make it on to the carts. Grab the menu and have a look for your favourite dishes and order from the wait staff. We, for instance, love those big, floppy, handkerchief sized, thick squares of steamed rice wrappers rolled around a range of sauces and fillings. They are in the Rice Paper Rolls section of the dim sum menu. The beef and coriander version is slippery and big on oh my God-inducing flavour.

We’re big fans of this busy, brilliant dim sum restaurant. It delivers across the board with flavour, variety and rapid, friendly service.

Eight is the luckiest number for the Chinese. 8 On The Point is lucky that it cares about its product and, at least in our opinion, delivers above and beyond many of Perth’s dim sum offers.