Finding a place that does real, old-school Cantonese food is getting harder. Honestly, most places just buy frozen dumplings and steam them up. But Lu Lu Seafood and Dim Sum in University City has always felt different. It’s loud. It’s crowded. There are carts clinking past your ankles. It’s exactly what a dim sum house should be.
If you’ve lived in St. Louis for a minute, you know the Olive Boulevard corridor is the heart of the local Asian food scene. Lu Lu isn't just a restaurant; it’s a landmark. You don't come here for a quiet, romantic candlelit dinner. You come here because you want to point at a metal steamer basket and get exactly what you’re craving without any pretension.
The Chaos of the Cart: Why It Matters
Most people get intimidated by the cart system. They see a server pushing a stainless steel trolley, shouting out names of dishes in Cantonese, and they freeze. Don't. That’s the fun of Lu Lu Seafood and Dim Sum.
The "cart experience" is becoming a lost art. In many cities, dim sum has moved to an order-sheet model where you check boxes on a piece of paper. It’s efficient, sure. But it’s sterile. At Lu Lu, you see the steam rising off the Har Gow before it even hits your table. You can smell the charred edges of the turnip cakes. You make split-second decisions based on visual appeal. That’s how dim sum was meant to be enjoyed.
There's a rhythm to it. The carts start circulating early. If you show up at 11:30 AM on a Sunday, you’re already behind. You’ll be sitting in those red chairs in the lobby, staring at the fish tanks, waiting for your number to be called. It’s a rite of passage.
What You Should Actually Order
Look, everyone gets the pork buns. They're fine. They're fluffy. But if you're only eating Char Siu Bao, you’re missing the point of the menu.
- The Shrimp Dumplings (Har Gow): This is the gold standard. If the skin is too thick, the kitchen is lazy. At Lu Lu, the wrappers are usually translucent enough to see the pink shrimp inside, with just enough chew.
- Chicken Feet (Phoenix Claws): I know. It sounds "adventurous" to some, but the black bean sauce and the texture are incredible. It’s all about the collagen.
- Tripe: If it’s on the cart, grab it. It’s tender, snappy, and carries the ginger-scallion flavors perfectly.
- Baked Egg Tarts: Get these the second you see them. If you wait until the end of the meal, the cart might be empty. The crust is flaky—almost like a croissant—and the custard is barely sweet.
The seafood side of things is a whole different beast. Because they have those massive live tanks, the freshness isn't a marketing gimmick. If you’re there for dinner, the Ginger and Scallion Lobster is the move. It’s messy. You’ll be digging meat out of shells with your hands. But the wok hei—that "breath of the wok" smoky flavor—is unmistakable.
Dealing With the "Service" Reputation
Let’s be real. If you check Yelp or Google Reviews for any authentic dim sum spot, you’ll see people complaining about the service. "They were rude," or "No one checked on our water."
Here is the secret: Lu Lu Seafood and Dim Sum operates on a different frequency.
It’s about speed. The servers are trying to feed 300 people in a two-hour window. They aren't there to ask you about your weekend plans. They want to know how many baskets of Siu Mai you want. If you need something, you have to be assertive. Catch an eye. Raise a hand. It’s not a slight; it’s just the culture of a high-volume Cantonese hall. Once you lean into the hustle, the experience becomes much more enjoyable. It's an organized sort of madness.
The Cultural Hub of Olive Boulevard
University City’s "Chinatown" stretch on Olive is changing. New boba shops and trendy hot pot spots are popping up every month. Amidst all that, Lu Lu feels like the anchor. It’s where multigenerational families gather on weekends. You’ll see three generations at a round table, spinning the Lazy Susan, sharing plates of jellyfish and roasted duck.
There is a specific kind of "St. Louis Chinese" history here. The restaurant has survived economic shifts and the pandemic, which claimed a lot of other spots in the area. They’ve stayed consistent. That’s why people keep coming back. It’s comfort food. It’s the sound of the jasmine tea being poured into those small white cups.
Beyond the Dim Sum
While the brunch hours are the biggest draw, the dinner menu is massive. It’s essentially a textbook of Cantonese cuisine. Most Westerners stick to the "General Tso" style dishes, but the real gems are in the clay pots.
The Salty Fish and Chicken Fried Rice is polarizing. It smells... strong. But the depth of flavor is something you can't get from a standard take-out box. It’s salty, umami-heavy, and incredibly satisfying. Also, their roast pork (Siu Yuk) with the crackling skin? It’s arguably some of the best in the Midwest. They get the skin to that perfect "shatter" consistency while keeping the fat underneath melty.
Making the Most of Your Visit
To actually enjoy Lu Lu Seafood and Dim Sum without the stress, you need a strategy. This isn't a place where you just "wing it" on a busy Sunday.
- Timing is everything. If you aren't there by 10:45 AM on a weekend, prepare to wait.
- Go with a group. Dim sum is a communal sport. Two people can only eat maybe 4-5 dishes before they're full. Four to six people can hit 15 different plates.
- Don't be afraid to ask for the menu. If you don't see something on a cart, you can usually order it directly from a server. This is key for things like the Rice Noodle Rolls (Cheong Fun), which are best when they haven't been sitting on a cart for 20 minutes.
- The Tea. Wash everything down with the tea. It’s not just for hydration; the tannins help cut through the grease of the fried dumplings.
The Verdict on Authenticity
Is it the same as a high-end dim sum parlor in Hong Kong or even Richmond, BC? Probably not. The scale is different. But for St. Louis, it is the gold standard for a reason. They haven't watered down the flavors to appease a generic palate. You can still get the "weird" stuff, and it’s still prepared with traditional techniques.
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The kitchen staff knows what they're doing. You can hear the rhythmic chopping from the back and the hiss of the high-pressure wok burners. That sound is the heartbeat of the place. It’s lived-in. The carpet has seen better days, and the decor is stuck in a specific era of 90s banquet hall chic, but that just adds to the charm. You’re there for the food, not the interior design.
Actionable Steps for Your Next Trip
If you want to experience the best of what Lu Lu has to offer, follow this specific plan:
- Check the Live Tanks: Before you sit down, walk past the seafood tanks. It tells you what’s fresh. If the Dungeness crabs look active, that’s your dinner cue.
- Order the Roast Meat Platter: Specifically, ask for a mix of roast duck and crispy pork belly. It is the most consistent item on the dinner menu.
- Learn the "Finger Tap": When someone pours tea for you, tap two fingers on the table. It’s a traditional way to say "thank you" without interrupting the conversation.
- Validate your parking: The lot can get chaotic. Be patient, and make sure you’re parked in the designated spots to avoid any University City towing headaches.
- Explore the Market: After you eat, hit the Asian markets nearby. You’ll find the same ingredients they use in the kitchen, and you can try to recreate the simpler stir-fries at home.
Lu Lu Seafood and Dim Sum remains a cornerstone of the local food community because it refuses to be anything other than what it is: a loud, bustling, delicious piece of Canton in the middle of Missouri. Pack your patience, bring a group of friends who aren't afraid of bones or shells, and just start pointing at the carts. You really can’t go wrong.