Curry Turnovers (咖喱酥)

Curry turnovers are a nostalgic favorite in our family. It was always a great treat when my grandparents showed up with a box of them. A discussion recently got started about reviving the tradition, so I thought it as good a time as any to give this one a go on the blog. I'm so glad I did, because they are just as tasty as I remember. They go by a few different names in Chinese, but the one I went with here, gali su, means "curry pastry."

As it turns out, they are a classic item in Cantonese dim sum and bakeries, with variants popular all over Asia. The good news is that unlike many dim sum items, they are easy to make. They work equally well with afternoon tea, as an appetizer, or a as a late-night snack. This recipe makes about 36 turnovers. We froze some of those (unbaked) for later. Leftovers already baked can be kept in the refrigerator and revived in the toaster oven. In making this version, I referenced several recipes I found online, including Woks of Life and Table for Two. 

Puff pastry variant

The recipe itself is flexible and forgiving. My research online showed that beef is by far the most common filling, but I know grandpa used pork just as often. I used my homemade Chinese pork stock, but whatever is on hand should work fine. For the seasoning, any curry powder is sufficient, as long as it isn't too hot. I added some turmeric for color. One detail I remember watching grandpa make it was that he added a seasoning packet from a package of ramen noodles. I honor this choice with a little MSG (Ajinomoto) for an umami boost. Premade pie dough is a great shortcut that doesn't compromise significantly on the end product. Turnovers can also be made with puff pastry for a flakier variation.

Shrimp Toast (麵包蝦仁)

Today, I'm pleased to present another creation from the Joyce Chen Cook Book. Shrimp toast is a Cantonese dim sum item I've had a few times in restaurants, but never thought about making at home until now. Like most of Chen's recipes, it's quite simple, but satisfying, and uses ingredients easily found in American supermarkets. Everything in the recipe stores well, so it's another good "Corona Cuisine" option. The Chinese name mianbao xiaren translates to "bread shrimp meat." Once such a thing is possible again, I think these would be great party food to pass around with some cold beers.

The texture of the cooked shrimp mixture is best described as "springy." It's quite unique to and common in Chinese food. Western recipes for ground meat dishes, like hamburgers or meatballs, often warn against overmixing to maintain a loose texture. Chinese meatballs, on the other hand, are dense and springy. The bacon is a clever shortcut to incorporating some fat into the mixture, while also adding flavor. The minced water chestnuts are a great addition, as you get little pockets of crunchiness every now and then. My only real complaint about the dish is that the bread absorbed too much oil and got a little soggy on the bottom. This could be a combination of the very basic supermarket white bread I used and my decision to rest them on paper towels instead of a rack. As such, I'd recommend the latter.

I have basically reproduced Chen's recipe, but with more detailed instructions. She only says to grind the meat with no technique mentioned. The food processor got this done efficiently. Mincing very aggressively with a knife would probably work, as well. As usual, Chen adds some MSG here, which I don't have on hand. Also notable from the book is that there is a companion recipe for shrimp balls, which use the same shrimp mixture, but formed into balls and deep fried. I didn't try that, but it would provide a gluten-free option, if you're into that kind of thing.

Spring Rolls (春捲)

While most of my interpretations of Pei-Mei dishes are quite obscure from an American point of view, spring rolls are one of the most iconic Chinese dishes. In addition to being a classic dim sum item, they are also popular in other parts of Asia, such as Thailand and the Philippines. Fillings vary greatly. Pei-Mei's version has a mix of pork, cabbage, and shrimp which would also be great on chow mein (omit about half the corn starch). The Chinese name chunjuan does translate directly as spring (the season) roll. These spring rolls are tasty and crispy, and a good traditional example of the dish.

Let's dig into some specifics of the recipe. Pei-Mei recommends using "lean pork" and cutting into strings. I honestly misread the recipe and used ground pork, which was perfectly fine. For the vegetables, the recipe just says "cabbage" on the English side. On the Chinese side, baicai can be either what we call napa cabbage or bok choy. Napa is what we had, and I think it's probably the better choice, since its a bit thinner. Like a lot of Pei-Mei's recipes, this one involves soup stock. This is made relatively easily by simmering chicken and/or seafood with a little green onion and ginger. I make mine with shrimp shells I save every time we eat shrimp. Western-style stocks usually involve onion, carrot, and celery and will have a different flavor, but should work in a pinch.

For the skins, we found frozen ones at a Chinese store and defrosted in the refrigerator the day before. Pei-Mei says the recipe makes 20 spring rolls, we only got 14 out of it. I think we could have stretched that to 15, but definitely not 20. Pei-Mei is fairly vague about the rolling procedure, but it read to me as rolling straight-on, whereas most recipes I've seen online roll diagonally (Woks of Life, for example). In retrospect, I would do the diagonal fold next time, as the way we did it, you get twice as much wrapping on the ends as in the middle. They still fried up perfectly fine, though, so it's rather forgiving. Overall, they turned out well, but were a little too salty for my taste. As such, I've marked the added salt in the sauce as optional. 

San Diego Part 2: Dim Sum and Tacos

On our third day in San Diego, we planned to have dim sum at Jasmine Seafood Restaurant. It is located in an area of northern San Diego with a lot of Asian restaurants and businesses and is one of the few restaurants still offering cart service on weekends. We got there right at opening time before it got too busy. Dim sum is not something we get often, and is quite rare outside major cities with large Cantonese populations. As such, I've often had to scratch my dim sum itch at home. I've previously featured my attempts making turnip cakes and steamed spare ribs. Dim sum at Jasmine was a real treat, and a great opportunity for me to write about the true dim sum experience.

Our first round of dim sum had some classic items. First, har gow, the shrimp dumpling with a translucent wrapper made of rice flour. The best har gow are delicate and not gummy. I have not attempted to make them, but they are definitely on the list. Next, siumai are a pork dumpling shaped somewhat like a basket. The Cantonese style is very different from the Shanghai version I've made. I tried making these once, but didn't get the pork mixture right. Look out for these in the future, as well. Next, we had steamed spare ribs with black beans, which I've covered before. These tender and delicious. The one item we got that I wasn't familiar with was the shark fin dumpling. I was certainly intrigued by the name, as shark fin is banned in many places, including California. I later learned that these dumplings typically contain imitation shark fin, though we couldn't really differentiate the filling from the siu mai. 

Clockwise from top: siumai, shark fin, spare ribs, har gow

Next up was one of my absolute favorites, the char siu bao. As a home cook, this is the holy grail of dim sum, which I've attempted a few times but never gotten right. I can handle the char siu filling -- it's one of my most frequently cooked items. The fluffy, pillow-like bun, on the other hand, I have not been able to master. At this point, we also had some fried taro dumplings, which I didn't take any pictures of. Those also rank among my favorites, which we've made one (mostly) successful attempt at making. 

Char siu bao

The next item we found were xiaolongbao. These are not a classic Cantonese item, but rather a Shanghainese one. I love them, of course, and the ones we had were very good. The soup explosion  in each dumpling makes for one the most perfect single bites there is. We attempted to make them once, and it was not successful. Both the filling and the wrapper have to be perfect, and we hit neither. Perhaps one day.

Xiaolongbao

Next up is Ariel's favorite dim sum: nai wong bao (custard buns or, as she calls them, "eggy buns"). I've had dim sum many places, and while most restaurants make them, they don't often show up on the carts. I had to ask for them here, but when they did arrive, they were fantastic. We have made them a few times, with varying degrees of success. 

Nai wong bao

Cheung fun are another absolute classic. These are sheets of rice noodles wrapped around a filling into a tube shape. The Chinese name, which translates as "intestine noodle" is wonderfully evocative, but the usual English name is "rice noodle rolls." Jasmine offered all four of the common fillings: beef, shrimp, char siu, and youtiao (fried dough). As there aren't a lot of beef-based dim sum items, I typically get that. The first time the cart came by, we had a lot on our table and passed. It didn't come back until a long time later, so let that be a lesson. We were so excited, we ate half before I remembered to take a picture! We have made these once, and it was a very labor-intensive process, even with two people. They turned out decently, though I would make some changes for next time.

Beef cheung fun

The next item is a deep-fried crab ball. The crab meat is formed around a piece of sugar cane which serves as a handle, breaded, and fried. They were served with a sweet chili sauce. Although I'm a fan, I've never thought to try making these.

Fried crab balls

At this point, we had already eaten way too much, but when I saw a special cart come by frying turnip cakes tableside, I had to have some. 

Turnip cake cart

Some turnip cakes are better than others, and it's usually a texture thing. This is determined by how finely the turnip is grated and how much cornstarch was added. The turnip cakes at Jasmine had a light, creamy texture that I've never experienced before. On top of that, freshly frying them on the cart took them to the next level. 

Turnip cakes

Overall, this was an excellent dim sum experience. We arrived early and took our time with it. Dim sum for two is a bit difficult, as you want to try everything, but have to pace yourself. We definitely over-ordered, but you only have one honeymoon. We ended up lounging around the rooftop pool at the hotel in the afternoon as we digested. 

For our evening meal, we headed south to Chula Vista, about halfway between downtown San Diego and the Mexican border. The ticket seller at the maritime museum recommended Taqueria Revolución, a local joint we never would have discovered otherwise. His recommendation was spot on. We each ordered three tacos. I had adobada (pork cooked on a rotisserie, similar to a doner kebab), birria (braised beef), and carnitas (slow-cooked pork). Ariel tried the adobada, pollo asado (grilled chicken), and carne asada (grilled beef). The adobada tacos were our overall favorite. 

Adobada, birria, and carnitas tacos

We also both had a cup of horchata, the Mexican rice drink. We've been fans of horchata for a while and order it any opportunity we get. This was one of the best I've had, and I'm going to try making some with our new blender. We were also offered cups of beef broth, a byproduct of the birria tacos which was packed with flavor. 

Beef broth

After dinner, we walked back to Little Italy to visit Salt and Straw for ice cream. With several locations along the west coast, they are know for their unusual flavor combinations. Ariel went for the almond brittle with salted ganache, and I had a half-and-half of the coffee and bourbon and the carrot cake ice creams. 

Ice cream on the piazza

In the next post, we'll take a break from all the eating for some naval tourism!

Steamed Spareribs with Fermented Black Beans (豉汁排骨)

Greetings, dear readers! It's good to be back. To my shame, it turns out this is only my third post this year. Unfortunately, with a very busy spring semester at IU, the blog suffered. I hope to make up for the deficiency this summer. Pei Mei's Chinese Cook Book is still full of fun, weird stuff I can't wait to try, modernize, and share with you. I've got some exciting stuff planned for the next few weeks, so stay tuned. 

We're starting off with something simple, but a true classic -- dim sum-style spare ribs. I'm a huge fan of dim sum (it's in my blood!) and my attempts to recreate traditional dim sum dishes will always be a big part of No Free Lunch. As far as dim sum goes, it doesn't get any easier than this. This recipe is my own, based on three others: Pei Mei, Chan's Classic Deem Sum, and The Woks of Life. The Chinese name, chizhi paigu (see jup pai gwut in Cantonese) translates to "fermented bean juice spareribs," pretty straightforward, for a change.

There are two notable ingredients to discuss. The first are the ribs themselves. American supermarkets typically don't have spareribs cut up in the way we need. In this case, I found them at an Asian grocery, but if you can find a butcher to cut them up for you, that works too. I have previously made these from a whole rack of spareribs. Cutting up the thick bones is not practical at home, so I used the big end of the rack for braising and cut up the small end (with its softer bones) for steaming. The other ingredient is douchi -- fermented black beans. These are pretty easy to find at Chinese stores. This ingredient has shown up once before, in my stir fried fish recipe. One final note: most recipes include minced hot peppers. I omitted them, but if you like your ribs spicy, put them in.

This recipe is per pound of ribs. I had about 2 1/2 pounds, and adjusted the marinade accordingly. 

Ingredients

• 1 lb. spare ribs, cut into 1-inch pieces
• 1 Tbs. light soy sauce
• 1 Tbs. fermented black beans, rinsed
• 1 Tbs. Shaoxing wine or sherry
• 1 green onion, chopped (white part only)
• 1 tsp. sugar
• 1 Tbs. cornstarch
• 1 tsp. sesame oil
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 Tbs minced hot pepper (optional)

Instructions

To rinse the beans, mix with a little water in a bowl, then pour off the water through fingers or a strainer. Do this twice. Mix all ingredients in a large plastic bag or bowl. Add the ribs, and mix well. Marinate in the refrigerator for a few hours, one if you're in a hurry. Mix about halfway through.

Ready to steam

Prepare the wok for steaming. I use a steamer rack inside the wok, and fill the water to just below the rack. Get the water boiling. Place the rib mixture in a dish or bowl, and place on the rack. Cover and let steam until the ribs are cooked through.

Once the ribs start steaming, get some water boiling on the side. Check the ribs after every 10 minutes for temperature and water level. Add hot water as needed. If you are making a lot of ribs, such that there are multiple layers in the dish, mix them around for even cooking. Larger batches will take longer. Mine took about 30-40 minutes. Serve the ribs on their own or with rice.

Turnip Cakes (蘿蔔糕)

Turnip cakes are as classic a dim sum dish as they come. That being said, they've never been a go-to for my family. In my mind, that's all the more reason to give making them a try. I had been thinking about it for a while, but when I saw a huge pile of Chinese radishes at Better World Market (West Lafayette's newest Chinese store), I decided to go for it. Since this is a dish I'm mostly unfamiliar with, I closely (for me, at least) followed Henry Chan's recipe from Classic Deem Sum. Grandpa recently gave me this book, which was also responsible for the baozi of my childhood.

Overall, the turnip cakes turned out great. The Chinese radish has a unique flavor, and the sausage, shrimp, and mushrooms dot the cakes nicely. The cakes are quite dense, and I might experiment by lowering the amount of flour in the future. I will definitely be ordering them next time I go to dim sum.

This recipe features many interesting ingredients, a few of which are new to No Free Lunch. Dried black mushrooms and dried shrimp were both featured in my marathon Shanghai shaomai recipe. The big star here is, of course, the Chinese radish, also known as a daikon. It is a root vegetable that sort of resembles a huge, white carrot. Note that despite the name, this dish does not contain turnips. This recipe also uses rice flour, not to be confused with sweet/sticky/glutinous rice flour, which I used for tangyuan. 

The last new ingredient is one I've been wanting to discuss for a while: Chinese sausage. I have a huge weakness for these greasy little guys. Specifically, I'm using Cantonese lap cheong, which are dried, hard, lightly sweetened. You'll find them in the refrigerator section of most Chinese stores. I chop them up and cook them a bit like bacon - on low to medium heat so the chunks of fat render out. This is great for fried rice, as you can use the grease to cook the rest of the ingredients. I also like them with scrambled eggs.

Ingredients

• 4-6 dried black mushrooms, depending on size
• 1/3 cup dried shrimp
• Warm water
• 1 lb. Chinese radish/daikon (about 1 whole radish)
• 1 cup chicken stock
• 1 Chinese sausage, minced
• 2 Tbs minced scallion (use only the white bottom part)
• 1 Tbs Amontillado sherry/Shaoxing wine
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 tsp sugar
• Pinch of white pepper
• 2 Tbs vegetable oil (substituting for lard)
• 2 cups rice flour
• Vegetable oil to grease pan and fry the cakes

Instructions

Start soaking the mushrooms in warm water to reconstitute. The mushrooms need to soak about 30 minutes. Soak the shrimp in 1/4 cup warm water to reconstitute for at least 10 minutes. Reserve the shrimp water when done. While the dried ingredients soak, peel the radish and remove the ends. Grate the radish. I chopped it up into small pieces and used the grater attachment on the food processor.

Grated radish cooking

Combine the shredded radish with the chicken stock and the shrimp water in saucepan or wok. Cook, covered, on medium-high for about 15 minutes. Stir occasionally.

Minced mix-in ingredients

While the radish cooks, remove and discard the stems from the mushrooms and mince the caps. Mince the shrimp. If you haven't already, mince the sausage and scallions. Add the mushrooms, shrimp, sausage, scallions, wine, salt, sugar, pepper, and oil to the pan. Cover and cook 10 more minutes. 

The finished batter, before flour is added

Remove the mixture to a large bowl and let cool to room temperature. Once cooled, add the rice flour to the mixture and mix in thoroughly. Oil a square cake pan and pour the batter into an even layer. Use a wet spatula to smooth the top. Smoother is better, to get more even browning later on.

Ready to steam

For the next step, you will need to rig up a way to steam the cake. The way I did this was to put a wire steamer rack (available in various sizes at Chinese stores) in the wok and set the pan on top. A high-domed lid will likely be needed to fit everything inside. Bring water to boil in a wok with the rack in place, filling water to about an inch below where the pan will sit.

My steaming setup

Carefully place the pan on the rack and cover. Steam the cake for 50-60 minutes. Keep extra hot water on hand to refill the wok. This is easy to do with an electric tea kettle. Check the water level every 10 minutes and refill as needed. Check if the cake is done by inserting a toothpick. If the toothpick comes out clean, the cake is done.

The finished cake

Remove the pan from the heat and let the cake cool to room temperature. Place a cutting board on top of the pan and carefully flip over, letting the cake drop out of the pan. Cut into pieces as desired. I did 12 rectangular pieces (3 x 4 pieces), which are roughly the size you see in restaurants. You can also make smaller pieces if you want to go for a finger food style.

Cut and ready to fry

Select the pieces you want to eat now, and refrigerate the rest in a sealed bag. In a nonstick pan, heat a little oil on medium-high. Sear the cakes on both sides until golden brown. This is quite fast, maybe a minute on each side and serve immediately.

Potstickers, the Hard Way

I've been working on perfecting my potstickers for years now. I look at my original post from 2012, and it's almost funny how simplistic it is. Last year's "Part II" stepped things up considerably, and at the time I thought that was going to be it. In that post, I said "the entire process is now done from scratch." As it turns out, that wasn't completely true. The day has finally arrived where I decided store-bought ground pork is not good enough. That's right, folks, the meat grinder, passed down from Ariel's bubbie, came out to play for the first time today. You might be wondering if it was worth it. Oh, yes. These are the best potstickers I have ever made. 

Creating the perfect potsticker filling is the real focus of this post, but I also include all the other steps for completeness. As I've mentioned before, grandpa and grandma have always been vague about what goes into the filling, and I have tinkered with it a lot over the years, incorporating elements of other recipes and my own experimentation. I think I've finally nailed it here. The dried mushrooms contribute their nice earthiness. Using both parts of the napa, and lots of it, lightens the texture and adds a little crunch. The classic combination of ginger and garlic comes through on each bite. And then, of course, there's the meat.

The trouble with prepacked ground pork is that the customer typically gets no information about either the cut it came from or the fat content. Contrast this with beef, where you get the lean/fat ratio and the cut (sirloin, chuck, and so forth). Last time I made dumplings, the pork was too lean and they ended up a little dry. I chose pork shoulder for grinding. Importantly, there is a good amount of fat throughout that keeps the dumplings moist. It's also my preferred cut for char siu, which was the delicious destiny of the rest of the roast. Shoulder is also excellent for any kind of stew. Using the rather ancient and venerated grinder was a little intimidating at first, but it ended up working very well. It will no doubt feature in future posts.

This recipe will make at least 150 potstickers, with a little filling left over. It's a good thing they freeze well. I like making potstickers in large batches, as you save time in the long run. You can put frozen potstickers right in the pan and they defrost as they steam for a quick and easy meal. The leftover filling can be cooked like a burger and put on a sandwich. It can be stir fried with a little bean sauce and noodles, or it can go into a frittata. The possibilities are quite endless.

Ingredients

Filling

• 2 lb pork shoulder, with fat
• 2 lb napa, both stalks and leaves
• 1 cup dried black mushrooms, minced (about 12-15 mushrooms)
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 Tbs fresh ginger, minced
• 2 large eggs
• 1/3 cup green onion, finely chopped
• 1/4 cup fresh chives, finely chopped
• 3 Tbs soy sauce
• 1 Tbs salt
• 1 Tbs sesame oil
• 1 tsp black pepper
• Extra salt for the napa

Wrappers

• 7 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 cups boiling water
• 2/3 cup cold water

Everything Else

• Vegetable oil for frying
• Chinese black vinegar for dipping
• Splash of soy sauce for dipping

Instructions

Filling

Ahead of time, put the mushrooms in a bowl of hot tap water. Let stand at least 30 minutes. Once soaked, remove the stems and finely mince the caps.

Roughly chop the napa, including both the white center parts and the yellowish/greenish leafy parts. In a large bowl, salt the napa and toss to combine. Let stand at least 20 minutes. Working in batches, wrap the napa in a clean towel and wring. Squeeze out as much water as possible. Once this is done, finely chop the napa.

If using ground pork, skip the next step. Otherwise, continue on. Cut the pork into small chunks, making sure to include the fat, and grind. A food processor can be used in place of a grinder. The grinder was quite straightforward to use, and the only challenge was figuring out how to best clamp it down. We ended up opening a drawer to give it room to screw in, and then putting some cardboard on the contact spots to protect the surfaces and stabilize the grinder.

Meat grinder or time machine? Maybe both.

Combine mushrooms, napa, and pork in a large bowl. Add all other filling ingredients and mix thoroughly but gently. Cover with plastic wrap and set aside in the refrigerator until ready to fill dumplings.

The filling can be varied to taste. A good way to test the filling is to form a small patty and cook it in a frying pan.

Wrappers

Mix the flour and boiling water, and let stand for 3 minutes. Add cold water and knead into a smooth dough. Roll out on a floured surface, as thin as possible. Using a pint glass or similarly sized glass, cut circles out of the dough. Ball up and scraps and roll out again until all the dough is used.

To avoid dough drying out, it is best to keep the dough in a bag or under plastic wrap. Roll out dough as needed as the dumplings are filled. Usually, we make the dough in two batches -- the amounts given in the ingredients section reflect a double recipe.

Assembly

Prepare the "assembly station" with a large sheet pan and a bowl of water. For each dumpling, take a round wrapper and add a small amount of the filling, around 1/2 Tbs. Take care not to overfill. Over time, you will get the feel for it. It is important to also make sure the filling stays in the center and does not get into the seal. Usually, I form the filling into a slightly elongated shape parallel to the direction of the fold.

Dip a finger in the water and run it around the edge of the wrapper. Fold over and pinch into a moon shape, making sure to seal tightly. Wet the top edge and form 2-3 pleats in the same direction. For detailed photos of wrapping potstickers, see my original post.

Once the sheet pan is filled, place in the freezer. Once the dumplings are fully frozen, they can be transferred safely to a bag. If the dumplings are bagged too early, they will stick together. The potstickers can also be cooked immediately, but I find they are much easier to detach from the sheet pan once they are at least a little frozen.

Cooking

The key to cooking is the right pan. Nonstick with a well-fitting cover is essential. Add just enough oil to the pan to make a thin layer. On medium high heat, cook the potstickers until the bottoms are lighly browned. Add about a centimeter of water (if the pan is full) and cover. Cook until the water is fully absorbed. Add more oil if needed and fry until the bottoms are crunchy and well-browned.

Serve with Chinese black vinegar, either straight or with a splash of soy sauce.

Shaomai (燒賣) - Shanghai Style

This is probably one of my most complicated recipes, and also one that requires a lot of back story, so strap in and enjoy one the grandest experiments in the glorious history of No Free Lunch. As this is the first time I have made these, the instructions section is less clean than usual and will go into detail about what went well and what did not.

Back in 2009, when I was studying in China, I came across a type of dumpling I had never seen before: an open-topped sack of dark glutinous rice with some bits of meat in it. Because of their shape, we called them "volcano dumplings." I eventually found out they are called shaomai (siumai in Cantonese), which confused me greatly. I had eaten siumai my entire life, and they had always been a ball of pork and shrimp wrapped up in a thin, yellowish skin. As it turns out, shaomai, which translates as "cook and serve," is a whole family of dumplings, and what you get when ordering them varies all over China. What seems to unite these myriad forms is the open top, with visible filling inside. These particular dumplings are the Shanghai variety. 

This stall sold 8 shaomai or 8 xiaolongbao for about $0.60

As a uniquely Shanghainese dish, I have not encountered them since. I was pleasantly surprised to find a recipe for my long lost volcano dumplings in volume 2 of Pei Mei's cookbook. She refers the reader back to volume 1 for the pork recipe. I have simplified her "Stewed Pork Rolls," significantly, as the pork is being produced specifically to be minced and stuffed in a dumpling, rather than standing as its own dish. The pork recipe here preserves the amounts of the original recipe. If you want to make only enough for the dumplings, you can halve everything, but if you make the full amount, you can eat some and sustain yourself for this long recipe. It is great with any extra sticky rice you might have.

There are a few new exotic ingredients in this dish that are worth mentioning. I have already discussed black vinegar in a previous post, so I won't spend time on that here. Dried shrimp are a Chinese grocery staple, and the distinctive smell is a hallmark of a good Chinatown shop. I was able to find these vacuum-packed in the refrigerator section. Dried mushrooms show up in a lot of Chinese recipes, so they are good to have on hand. They should be soaked in warm water ahead of time. Despite being more of a brown color, they are sometimes called "black mushrooms." Both of these dried ingredients have very intense, concentrated flavors. The last ingredient of note is glutinous rice, also called sticky rice or sweet rice. This is completely different from regular rice, and takes a lot longer to prepare. All these ingredients should be readily available in Asian stores.

Ingredients

Stewed Pork

• 1 lb. pork tenderloin
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 5 Tbs soy sauce
• 1 Tbs Shaoxing or dry amontillado
• 3 Tbs sugar
• 3 cups water
• 3 Tbs black vinegar
• 1 1/2 tsp sesame oil
• Vegetable oil for frying

Filling

• 1 cup stewed pork (about half of recipe above)
• 2 Tbs dried shrimp
• 3-4 dried mushrooms
• 3 cups cooked glutinous rice (roughly 1 3/4 cup uncooked)
• 2 Tbs soy sauce (can add more to darken the filling)
• 1/4 tsp black pepper
• 1 Tbs vegetable oil

Dough

• 3 cups flour
• 1 cup boiling water
• 1/4 cup cold water

Instructions

Well ahead of time, start preparing the glutinous rice, according to package instructions. Mine said to start soaking the rice overnight, so plan ahead. If you have never made glutinous rice before, as was the case for me, make sure to have a colander or similar device to steam the rice in. Put the rice in the refrigerator when done.

We'll start by preparing the pork. Cut the tenderloin into small chunks, about an inch or so across. Make sure to get rid of any bone pieces. Marinate the pork with the soy sauce, wine, and garlic for 20-30 minutes. 

Pork after one hour

Get some oil going in a hot wok, then stir fry the pork until browned, just a minute or two. When transferring the pork to the wok, try to get as little of the marinade as possible, as we want the pork to brown and the marinade left for later. Don't worry about it being cooked through at this point. Add water, vinegar, sugar, and the marinade left in the bowl. Bring to a boil. Simmer, uncovered, for about an hour on medium-high to let the sauce reduce. The pork will be fall-apart tender and the sauce an intense brown. After this is done, stir in the sesame oil. Transfer to a bowl and put it in the refrigerator.

Start soaking the mushrooms and shrimp in warm water. The mushrooms need at least 30 minutes to soften. Mince the shrimp as finely as possible. Mince the mushrooms and discard the stems. Finally, mince the pork. Combine rice, 1 cup of stewed pork (with some of the sauce), soy sauce, pepper, oil, shrimp, and mushrooms. Mix well. You can also add more soy sauce to taste and to darken the mixture, if desired.

You can start on the dough while the mushrooms are soaking. In a large bowl, combine flour and boiling water. Use a chopstick to mix until absorbed. Add cold water and knead, by hand, into a smooth dough. Be patient, as this does take a while. The dough will be very sticky at first. Cover with plastic wrap and let stand for at least 15 minutes.

Still with me? Great. Now comes the hardest part. On a floured counter or board, divide the dough into equal pieces. Pei Mei recommends 30 pieces. I experimented with different sizes, and I think the best is 32, as dividing the dough in half 5 times is a lot easier dividing it into fifths. I also tried 16-piece, 24-piece, and 48-piece sizes. 16 is definitely too big and 48 is definitely too small. 24 is not bad if you like the dumplings a little bigger, but still manageable. With my experiments, I ended up using 1 1/2 batches of dough to use up all the filling. Going carefully with 32 dumplings per batch may be fine.

Just before steaming

Flatten the dough pieces and roll out as thin as possible into a roughly circular shape. With the 32-piece size, this ended up being about 3 inches across. Use just enough flour to get them rolled out. With too much flour, it will become impossible to fold the dumplings. I usually ended up carefully peeling the pieces off the counter after rolling. Place filling on the dough and pleat the dough around the sides to form a basket shape. Once pleated along all sides, pinch around the edge with all five fingers to form a "waist." I found that 1 1/2 Tbs of filling worked well. For the 24-piece size, use about 2 Tbs.

Steam the dumplings for about 15 minutes. My setup is put a bamboo steamer in a wok about 1/3 full of water on high. I use a wok ring to keep it steady. I have been using steamer liners from the Asian grocery store, which do a great job at preventing sticking. You can also use squares of parchment paper, or a cabbage leaf.

Additional Commentary

This was one of the most difficult and labor intensive dishes I have cooked in recent memory. Rolling out each skin and then wrapping them up was the toughest part. Unlike potstickers, the filling is very loose (being mostly rice) and wet, and if any of this gets into the pleats, it becomes hard, or even impossible, to get the pleats to stay. Another difficulty is the dough itself. From pictures I have from China, as well as the one in the cookbook, the skin is extremely thin and almost translucent, which I don't think is possible to achieve with just a rolling pin. Perhaps a pasta maker could do this better. Thinner dough would make the proportion of dough to filling lower, which is perhaps why I ran out of dough and had to make more. In any case, the dumplings were still very good, and I see them as the "homestyle" version, as opposed to the more refined, "restaurant," or "tiny street stall" version.

The Potsticker, Part II

Almost two years ago, I wrote a post about potstickers, which a faithful commenter called the "walk version." Since then, I have made a lot of them, and learned quite a bit from the experience, and we're ready to "run." The entire process is now done from scratch, from dough to filling, to sauce.

The shaft of light clearly shows divine inspiration at work

Dough

At the time of my initial post, I was content with buying frozen wrappings. These are easily available at any Chinese grocery or even many general supermarkets. While these do work and let you save a lot of time, you can bring these to a whole new level with homemade dough. I also felt there was something a little off about them, but never bothered to try it. It was Ariel who put her foot down and declared the frozen wrappers unfit for use. We tried making our own, and never went back. Like chive pancakes, potstickers employ a hot water dough. In fact, I first started out using the pancake dough, but found it a bit too wet to handle. The recipe here is my adjustment. I make about two of these for a big batch.

Potsticker Wrapper Dough

• 3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour 
• 1 cup boiling water 
• 1/3 cup cold water

Mix the flour and boiling water, and let stand for 3 minutes. Add cold water and knead into a smooth dough. Roll out on a floured surface. To work as a wrapper, the dough needs to be very thin. Cut the dough into circles using a glass. I find a standard pint glass or similar glassware does the job well. Closing the dumplings requires only water around the edge of the wrapper, and I don't find an egg wash necessary.

Filling

Over the years, my grandparents always have seemed to regard the filling as an afterthought, as if it was just meat and that was it. This is certainly not the case. Properly proportioned and seasoned filling can make or break your potstickers. 

The base will always be some kind of ground meat. Pork is the standard, but this can certainly be swapped or mixed with beef, lamb, or anything else. You can certainly add some chopped shrimp to the mix, as well. A good amount of vegetables is important to prevent the filling from becoming too dense. My usual choice is green cabbage. For additional flavoring, I add either green onions or chives plus soy sauce, black pepper, a touch of sesame oil and salt to taste. Minced garlic is another good option. Finally, add an egg to tie it all together. As with any meat mixture (as for burgers, meatballs, and the like), mix gently and avoid overworking. 

You can test out your filling without much commitment by forming a small patty and frying it. 

Sauce

My go-to sauce formula is about half soy sauce and half Chinese black vinegar. This is another somewhat "exotic ingredient" that I honestly don't know any other use for. However, if you make a lot of potstickers, it's definitely worth picking up a bottle. 

This basic sauce works very well, but you can always experiment with variations. A drop of sesame oil (don't overdo it), grated ginger, garlic powder, or a bit of mustard can work. Adventurous sorts might try some chili oil.

Cooking

The first thing you need is the right pan. The pan should fulfill four criteria: broad size, non-stick, flat bottom, and a good lid. I've found this in our trusty nonstick pan from IKEA (see photo). It didn't come with a lid, but the one from one of my other pans fits perfectly. 

The all-important second frying

It was not until reading Pei-Mei's technique for cooking potstickers that I feel I really nailed the crunchy texture on the bottoms. Here's how it's done: First, on medium heat, heat up vegetable oil in the pan. Add the potstickers and briefly brown the bottoms. Next, add water and cover. Let them steam until the meat is cooked. Carefully drain out any water that did not absorb. Finally, splash some more oil into the pan and fry until the bottoms are well browned and crisp. To serve, you can line up an inverted plate on top of the pan and then flip the whole thing so the dumplings fall onto the plate. I have found that you can cook potstickers just fine either freshly made or frozen. Frozen dumplings will, of course, require a longer steaming time.

Potstickers (鍋貼)

Note: This recipe has been updated!

As promised, No Free Lunch is celebrating the beginning of the year of the Dragon with a Chinese classic. These aren't the greasy, overcooked dumplings you get at your local Chinese buffet. Guotie, which actually does translate to "potstickers," are another food that brings me back to dinners at Grandpa's house when I was little. We sometimes ate these in the same meal as the famous macaroni casserole.

I did consult Grandpa before making these, and discovered there isn't a set recipe, just pork and some kind of vegetable for the filling. They keep very well frozen, and Grandpa and Grandma sometimes make them by the hundred. They also make their own wrappers, which I can tell you makes the best dumplings. I use wrappers from the grocery store here; let's learn to walk before we run. This recipe makes about 75 dumplings.

Ingredients

• 2 pounds ground pork
• 1 bunch green onions, chopped
• 2 tablespoons chopped chives
• 1 large egg
• Salt and pepper
• Potsticker wrappers
• Vegetable oil

Instructions

First, make sure you have the right wrappers. Potsticker wrappers are round and slightly thicker than the square wonton wrappers. You can likely find both types of wrappers in the freezer section of your grocery store.

To prepare the filling, combine pork, green onions, chives, and egg in a large bowl. Add salt and pepper liberally (2 pounds is a lot of meat). Mix well. Prepare a large surface to make the dumplings. We'll need a small bowl of water and something to put the dumplings on - I use a large, non-stick sheet pan. I also enjoyed a bottle of beer while doing this, but that's up to you.

For each dumpling, use a fork to place a little of the meat mixture in the center of the wrapper. You'll soon get a feel for how much to put in. Too much, and the you will have trouble folding the wrapper. Too little, and the pocket you form won't be filled. Next, dip your finger in the water and wet the edge all around the circular wrapper. Fold it over, forming a half-moon, and squeeze around to seal. The last step is to fold the edge back on itself 2-3 times at the top of the dumpling. This forms a natural "bottom" so the dumpling can stand up. As you complete each dumpling, line them up on the sheet pan so that they don't touch. If you aren't going to eat all the dumplings today, slide the entire pan into the freezer. Once the dumplings harden, you can safely transfer them to a plastic bag without risk of them sticking together.

To cook the potstickers, make sure to use a non-stick skillet. I have previously written about how every great dish is preceded by failure. Trust me, use non-stick here. Add a little oil to the pan, then a little water, and heat on medium-high. The key here is to get the right dumpling to water ratio. Don't be tempted to add too much water, or the dumplings will become soggy. Just enough to cover the bottom, about 1/8 inch. 

Once the oil/water is hot, place dumplings in the pan. You can put them close together, even touching. This will also ensure you don't have too much water. Cover the pan immediately. As the dumplings steam, they will absorb the water, leaving only the oil in the pan. Cook until the bottoms are nicely browned and crispy. Once the water is absorbed, you can uncover and periodically lift up one to check the bottoms. If you prefer, you can also boil the dumplings for a different texture; these are known as shuijiao - water dumplings. Potstickers are usually served with a soy and vinegar sauce.