Dim 11 Congee Noodle House’s name is a dead giveaway of its menu. Dim sum, in its many-small-plates glory; the porridge of a comfort food that is congee; noodles from threadlike to lasagne-shaming extra-wide all come segmented on a broad-sheet bill-of-fare that further breaks down items for the diner’s consideration into sub-categories of noodle soups, dim sum steamed, baked, fried and snackable, barbecued meats and even a very focused category dubbed “Individually,” in which you’ll find a range of dishes that includes pork feet, goat and lettuce.

Li Mei, the woman who brought Dim 11 Congee Noodle House to a lengthy strip mall on Old Post Road in Edison earlier this year, may not possess an extensive English vocabulary, but her keen and watchful eyes notice what you need, what you like and accurately gauge your interest in beyond-standard Cantonese dishes. Frankly, she doesn’t need much in the way of English, as her customer base is overwhelmingly Chinese-speaking. But if you don’t speak Chinese and you want to explore Dim 11, she’ll zero in and help. Whether you go all-out dim sum and engage in a small-plates progression that betrays China’s leg-up in practicing the craft that – who knows? – may have influenced the birth of tapas centuries hence on the Iberian Peninsula or prefer facing bowls of congee or perhaps a murky-rich beef braise or simply a soup that’s a tangle of dumplings, vermicelli and greens, Li will guide.

Please, somewhere along the way, snag yourself an order of the shrimp and snow pea leaves dumplings. They are high craft, bundled in translucent wrappers that have no interest in concealing blanched and wrung-dry snow pea leaves, chunks of shrimp and a binding mashup of ginger, garlic and sesame oil. See all under a diaphanous veil, the vivid greenery, the pinkish-orange shrimp, the ivory-to-pale gold speckles of accents; see through, as well, the pouchy midsection of these dumplings that are tightly pinched and uniformly pleated before being steamed. Bite in and wonder how so much can be contained within: It seems like there are multiple shrimp, juicy and seemingly spurting sea water, many pea leaves, and ample fresh ginger and garlic. Dumplings, at their most lovable.

Shrimp continue to be celebrated, and respected, in fried shrimp balls, a dim sum classic too often too oily and too couched in fried strips of spring roll wrappers that end up overpowering the shrimp. Not the case here. Shrimp reigns, not pounded to a paste, but coarsely chopped and bathed in egg whites sparely scented with Shaoxing wine, dashes of light soy and sesame oil, plus pinches of white pepper and salt. Minced garlic and minced scallions lend support, but mainly these are about shrimp set against light, fried strands of crunchiness. They even come settled into paper cupcake liners. I take a peek at the bottoms: No oil residue. Masterful frying. It’s a terrific textural companion to sultry stuffed Chinese eggplant, which starts with three hunks of long purple eggplant getting split along their mid-sections to create pockets with ample room for stuffing. Into these nifty compartments go a paste of pork and a little shrimp, lightly seasoned with soy and sesame and plumped till frothy at the top, I’m thinking, with a whisk-in of egg whites. There’s a creaminess to this version that’s both luxurious and light. It’s mighty intriguing.

So are the steamed rice noodle rolls, which can be stuffed with either shrimp, minced beef or roast pork. Roast pork! At Dim 11, they’re not rolled at all, but served as flat, soft sheets of super-wide noodles draped around shards of pork mercifully focusing on savory, not sweet accents – soy sauces light and dark, oyster sauce, a quick hit of five-spice. The filling’s the ideal match for the springy, chewy and resolutely soft noodles that are served with nothing other than their wonderfully moody sauce.

Congee needs to come next, if you’re following dim sum dishes with anything at all. There are 10 different congee here, including plain, should straight-shooting comfort be your jam, and preserved egg with pork, if want to set off purity with a little edgy complexity. Then there’s one with a mix of seafood stirred into this long-cooked porridge of white rice broken down into a mass of something at once thick and soupy. Slices of scallop, abalone and surimi are among the fishes swimming about, with just slivers of scallions to add color and the suspicion of allium.

Bold, brash, very meaty flavors are aboard a big bowl of braised beef and daikon. The broth is so intense that I figure it simmers continuously in the kitchen at Dim 11, with fist-size rashers of brisket added accordingly, along with large knobs of daikon to tame (somewhat) the richness of this stew. I’m not complaining one bit: It’s meat-meat-meat and though I sip the broth and nibble at the meat, trying to sniff out prominent spice, I can’t find documentation of cinnamon or five-spice or star anise. Beef, in all its splendor, with the bitter bite of daikon when you need it.

I think I’ll be in need of Dim 11’s watercress dumpling noodle soup for the rest of my life. The springiness of the all-over-crimped dumplings, their straggly ends mingling with the dense tangle of thinnest vermicelli in a broth that boasts of a victory garden of root vegetables as its base, is the major takeaway here. And there are plenty of them within, including a couple hiding beneath the noodles. Spear one, bite in and be prepared to catch freefalling peppery ’cress as it tumbles out. Whoever is stuffing Dim 11’s dumplings has the nimblest of fingers and probably could be doing heart surgery.

If you need a segue before leaving Li Mei’s simply attired sanctum, get yourself the wiggly coconut pudding, which is a dense coconut gelled confection. It’s cleansing and even a bit refreshing.

Frankly, Dim 11 Congee Noodle House itself is refreshing, a respite from both frenetic dim sum palaces and lesser-quality Cantonese restaurants. Just when I think ol’ Edison, epicenter of Asia’s cuisines in New Jersey, can’t possibly squeeze in another truly good restaurant, it does. We can, after all, always find room in our bellies and hearts for wonderful dumplings.