I used to live in Southern California, in a region so dense with Cantonese restaurants that it was possible to go to a new one every weekend and still not exhaust your options for dim sum. Looking back at my tenure in California, I wonder if I should have made more of an effort to go to the beach on a sunny day instead of staying inside and eating dim sum, but that's the thing about sunny days. Too many of them and they lose their glamour.
We always ordered the steamed pork ribs with fermented black beans. (We, being my boyfriend at the time, whose talent for consuming prodigious amounts of pork was unmatched, even by yours truly.) No matter where you went, the wait to be seated at a table was something like an hour. Waiting was part of the fun. Or maybe we just enjoyed it because we are both delayed-rewards kind of people.