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You can spot the larger, newly relocated Bun House by the gang of people outside looking with wonder at the creations inside: perfect creamy-white closed Cantonese steamed buns prettily stamped with a Chinese character. These help to identify the bun’s filling, among them lamb, pork, beef, chicken, fish and veg. If you can’t read Chinese, the wall menu also makes clear which is which, and the dessert bun comes in its own holder – handy for both identification and catching creamy custard drips.
Because there are only so many buns one can eat, the small but well-though-out menu takes in a selection of small dishes and rice pots too, as well as beer and tea. The buns are as you’d expect – fluffy, light dough wrapped around delicious morsels (ie, more filling, please), but added sides make the whole into a fine lunch. A rice pot of chicken, ginger and spring onions was almost as good as homemade, and chilli tripe, while looking like something out of ‘Alien’, offered a deep and delicious fermented black bean flavour. Sides of smashed cucumber and picked daikon were perfect accompaniments in a space cutely taking its design cues from Hong Kong tea rooms of the 1960s.
Before you leave, be sure to order Bun House’s pièce de résistance, an exploding custard bao of ridiculously rich and messy intensity. It’s the best thing here.