I must have tried three times, maybe even four, queuing solemnly outside the tiny restaurant with the sky-blue signage and aquamarine façade. The reviews were universally rapturous, the prices refreshingly low. But Dim Sum Duck, tucked away on a King’s Cross side street, does not take bookings. And I’m not sure anything, even the most silken and slithery of cheung fun or historic har gau, is really worth an hour’s wait. I have the patience of a bluebottle at the best of times. And when it comes to lunch, it’s straight in or move on.
But then they opened another place,
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