Writer Tim Wu furiously attacked lousy dumplings in Slate yesterday—and good on him for doing so.

In his amply researched and incredibly passionate essay, Wu singles out the qualities of both good and heretical specimens of the dumpling species. He also relates a story of how his borderline-psychotic dedication to high-quality dumplings almost got him arrested at a pan-Asian place that had the temerity to disrespect the ideal form of the food.

Flipping out on the management is not good form, but there’s something misguidedly admirable about a foodie serious enough to raise Cain. And like all good critics, Wu doesn’t just sling mud; he also sings praises. Here’s his description of the lowly dumpling’s majestic potential:

The most decadent dumplings come, unsurprisingly, from Hong Kong. Recently, I sampled the ‘yellow-river crab supreme dumpling,’ the equivalent of Manhattan’s $32 hamburger. Available only in May and June, the dumpling is made in front of you from female crabs whose eggs have been mixed with meat. When consumed, they create a flavor explosion comparable to good foie gras.

In a word: damn.

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