Juicy Dumpling Factory

If we had a dollar for every social media post claiming that a new restaurant serving Chinese xiao long bao dumplings is a “Din Tai Fung dupe” (see Mimi Garden, LingLong, Bafang Dumpling, Seven Grams), we’d probably have enough money to build an actual Din Tai Fung – yet nearly no place (save Paradise Dynasty) actually lives up to that standard. Locally owned chain Juicy Dumpling Factory is the latest to float the comparison. Founded in Huntington Beach before expanding to two LA County cities and Costa Mesa, its name references the soup-filled dumplings that became globally popular over the last two decades, but we wouldn’t call them the real draw here.

At the Costa Mesa location, which opened in September 2026, a simple, box-shaped dining room seats around 60 across wooden tables sized for two to six people. Unlike Din Tai Fung, there was no wait when we visited, and the menu isn’t long or particularly surprising, either: six appetizers, 13 mostly Chinese-American-style stir-fried dishes, 20 “traditional pastries and fried rice” items ranging from dumplings to beef rolls, scallion pancakes, and dan dan noodle bowls, plus 12 drinks. Guests order items using pens and paper, and servers verbally confirm the orders before bringing out items – fairly quickly.

One drink struck us as particularly unusual at first sight, and only became more interesting when we dug deeper: “duck pop dolong w/ lemon” ($5). When our server couldn’t exactly describe the flavor, we decided to give it a try, only to discover the menu had misspelled “duck poop oolong” – a traditional name that has nothing to do with its actual ingredients, smell, or taste. Made from camellia sinensis plants, this tea from Guangdong, China is also known as phoenix dan cong, smells of flowers, and tastes of fruit. Sweetened, iced, and paired with citrus, this was a distinctive tea despite its unusual name, and certainly not found widely in this area.

Juicy Dumpling Factory’s foods aren’t quite as unusual. The namesake juicy pork dumplings ($13.50/8) cost roughly the same price as Din Tai Fung’s but aren’t as impressive – nice meat fillings, less soup, and far less delicate skins. Thankfully, they’re neither the only dumplings offered here, nor the best. If you want something that beats something Din Tai Fung sells, order the pan-fried dumplings, available here in a chive, shrimp, and pork version ($15/10) connected with a lightly crispy, lace-like topping, paired with a thick and lightly sweetened soy dip. We found these dumplings to be as tender as the juicy ones inside, texturally more complex, and even tastier with the dip. Versions with chicken or pork and cabbage are $14 each, if you want something a little less expensive without the seafood.