Din Tai Fung enjoys mythological status in the L.A. area, owing in large part to its perfectly hand-pleated xiao long bao. The soup is visible through the impossibly thin wrappers and each little delicate bite is famously consistent, whether you've had two pieces or 2,000 in your lifetime across multiple international locations.

Eater contributor Lucas Peterson extolled the virtues of Qingdao Bread Food's boiled sole dumpling with Chinese parsley (and that garlic sauce that it comes with), and though I've always favored QDBF's potstickers and beef noodle soup, on a recent visit it finally clicked: This is an experienced dumpling eater's nirvana. Nice, substantive chunks of sole are peppered with what tastes like coriander. Add that garlic sauce, and it's something you can literally never get sick of eating. It's the best Chinese dumpling in Los Angeles. Fight me.

The hui tou potsticker is unlike any other potsticker I've ever tasted, owing to a strong taste of white onion that sticks around throughout. It's a welcome taste that plays nice with the juicy pork filling. The tightly folded, flattened box shape gives it optimal surface area for pan frying, which lends it a slightly crunchy exterior.

SGV OG Clarissa Wei described Luscious Dumplings' rapid hand-made dumpling process in a feature on Eater, but don't mistake the speed with which they're made as impugning on their quality. The pan fried guo tie have a bronzed, crunchy bottom that's unlike any other you'll run into, with regions of Maillard-ized goodness running along the edges like glorious borders to flavor country.

The guotie (Chinese potstickers) are a standout at this SGV mini-chain. Scalding, heavy on the ginger with a nice, thick wrapper that delivers the perfect potsticker texture, it's a textbook potsticker in a city that's rich in more esoteric specialties.

Let's just get one thing out of the way: You're going to burn the roof of your mouth. If you've found a way to enjoy an optimal sheng jian bao experience without doing so, please show me your sorcerous ways. What else is there to say about it that hasn't been said? A deep, porky flavor that's almost reminiscent of SPAM (in all of the good ways), that extremely crunchy-fried underside and that perfectly soft upper wrapper is all but scientifically proven excellence at this point.

What started out as a weekend-only stand is now a 7-day-a-week operation (still cash only, amazingly), and for good reason. Nikuman-Ya is running the gyoza racket in Gardena, and that should really say enough. Sure, the cheese-pork-bun sounds a little stunt-dumpling, but the original gyoza is gingery, juicy goodness that's just seared on the bottom and warrants a taste if you're in the area.

Though I never really understood kimchi dumplings, they have an ardent following. One of the standout qualities of Dumpling House's steamed kimchi dumplings is their beautiful circular construction that evenly distributes that extra al dente bite of the steamed wrapper.

This small corner mandu shop inside the Zion Market appears to be a one-lady-operation. It currently features possibly L.A.'s first stunt-dumpling (corn cheese dumplings, anyone?), but don't be fooled. Traditionalists rave about the standard entries including the kimchi wang mandu and what some call the best gogi wang mandu (meat bread dumpling) in Koreatown. It matches Myung In's optimal wrapper-to-filling ratio and ups it with a savory filling that's neatly balanced flavor-wise. The archetype of a proper Korean dumpling.

Korean-Chinese shrimp dumplings are hard to come by even in L.A.'s sprawling Koreatown, but Pao Jao's saewoo mandu is a winner, with nice chunks of shrimp and that standard green onion and glass noodle filling.

Old Village is famous for their khinkali (pictured), but it's also one of the only places you can get pelmeni in Los Angeles. The boiled Russian dumpling resembles tortellini in size, and it's topped with sour cream, mustard or vinegar and it's traditionally eaten with vodka (I'm not taking the bait on that punchline).

A little bigger with a more substantive wrapper than the ones you'll find at Mante House, the Monta at Su Be'oreg can be ordered by the oven-ready tray, so you can get the party started when you're ready... and not almost burning them and ending the party prematurely.

Mante House treats its thin-skinned miniature mante like pizzas, and the analogy isn't that far off, to be honest. Both are considered primetime party food (I've never been invited to one of these mante-having parties, but I imagine they're rather lit). At Mante House, they come in pizza boxes of pizza-sized diameters (14" for $14.99 aka shut up and take my money) and can have toppings like Hot Cheetos and nacho cheese. I think I gained 5 pounds just writing that.