Pantry on Magnolia, 713 W Magnolia Av, FW. 682-224-2381. 11am-10pm Sun, 11am-midnight Fri-Sat.
Photo by Christina Berger.
I’m embroiled in a quasi-abusive relationship.
I know what you’re thinking. “Dump ’em and don’t look back!” Truly, I wish I could, but when it comes to spicy food — especially my best friend’s mom’s famous mole, laced with what I can only assume is every chili pepper on the planet — I just. can’t. stop. And, oh, my god, is it worth the pain!
The same goes for the dumplings and fried rice at Pantry on Magnolia. My body may have rejected the heat of the housemade chili oil from every last pore, but the rest of me embodied a red-faced Adam Driver in Star Wars screaming, “More, more!”
My good friend and former neighbor who was in town visiting requested we go somewhere new for a late lunch. From her response to the first bite of the black garlic mushroom dumpling — “That’s one of the more intense umami experiences of my life” — I’d say the Pantry was the right choice. Nestled into the sliver of a spot between Shinjuku Station and Grandma’s on West Magnolia Avenue, the multicultural dumpling house incorporates regional foods from all over the globe into their menu on a rotating basis.
Photo by Christina Berger.
The restaurant’s interior feels cozy in that particular way older buildings do. Though the space appears small from the outside, it doesn’t seem so inside, with its high ceilings, exposed brick, and vibrant, colorful decor. Cobalt walls are accented with Big Bird-yellow trim — a funky mix when you notice the off-white vintage ceiling tiles outlined in a scarlet red.
On one side hangs a gallery of different-sized mirrors with intricate gold frames. Floating shelves and nearly every other surface are filled with a festive, homey clutter of eclectic knick-knacks, from smiling ceramic dumplings to a Hamsa hand and several pieces of Asian-influenced art. Four long tables provide seating in the main area, along with a couple of bright bistro ones on the patio out front, and, beyond the curtained doorway marked “KiTcHeN” in mismatched letters, a series of two-top high tables face the bustling kitchen. In that back, more intimate area, life-size versions of the parasols you’d find floating in fruity cocktails dangle from the rafters among twinkly lights for a more whimsical, enchanting touch.
On the day my friend and I visited, Natasha Bruton, the establishment’s pastry queen — her “2023 Fort Worth Pastry Chef of the Year” certificate is prominently displayed at the register — greeted everyone with a “Thanks for braving the heat to be here.” What she meant, of course, was the sauna outside. What Natasha didn’t intend or know was that my revenant companion and I were about to brave a different kind of heat altogether. Good thing we can take it.
Photo by Christina Berger.
The dumpling flight offered seven unique flavors: Jamaican jerk chicken, Indian butter chicken, garlic ground beef, smoked barbacoa beef cheek, loaded baked potato, pork shiitake, and black garlic mushroom. A laminated page with photos to identify the various dumplings accompanied our order, which was a helpful guide as a couple of them were similarly shaped. Once you bit into the pillow of dough and filling, though, you could fairly quickly pick out which was which.
I tried, y’all. I intended to take diligent notes on each dumpling, but I got lost in the experience and the reverie of seeing an old friend. What I can tell you — and I can’t stress this enough — is that they were the best damn dumplings I’ve ever had. Each took you on a culinary journey, whether it was the spicy hot Indian butter chicken that lived up to its buttery name or the hearty, meaty filling of the well-balanced garlic ground beef. Not a single dumpling disappointed. In fact, quite the opposite. I mean, you know the food is good when conversation is abruptly interrupted after each bite as your crew exchanges animated “Oh, wow” faces.
Even the spring roll appetizers were exceptional. With crunchy veggies and delectably fresh shrimp tightly wrapped within, the roll packed a strong mint flavor that paired well with the ultra-smooth, not-too-sweet peanut sauce. I’m pretty picky about peanut sauce, but I’d bathe in the Pantry’s.
After scarfing down the dumplings and spring rolls, my fellow reveler and I weren’t quite ready to call it a day. While Natasha suggested several mouthwatering options, our eyes grew big and stomachs gurgled, mouths still ablaze from the earlier onslaught. I can’t be entirely sure which fried rice dish we ended up choosing — the house special, perhaps? Either way, it constituted the second-best decision we’d made that afternoon.
Photo by Christina Berger.
As it emerged from the kitchen, the fried rice with housemade kimchi and savory sausage had billows of steam rolling off it. The mix of tender meat, including succulent, semisweet pork, was topped with a perfectly fried egg and green onions. We barely made a dent in the mound we were served, and, this time, the chili oil was served on the side.
The experience came to a close like any good meal should: with a warm, gooey-centered dessert. The Everything in the Pantry cookie contained pretzels and white, dark, and semisweet chocolate drizzled with more chocolate and caramel sauces and topped with sea salt. Need I say more?
Despite inevitably panting in between bites, I’d brave the fire-breathing, sweating, nose running, and then some again and again for what’s in the Pantry — dignity, be damned.
Pantry on Magnolia
The Dumpling Flight $16
Spring rolls $8
Fried rice $12
Everything in the Pantry cookie $6
