My wife’s dumplings

I love dumplings. My all-time favourite would have to be xiao long bao, the Shanghainese steamed, soupy pork dumplings that explode with warm broth when bitten into. Gyoza, the pan-fried Japanese dumplings, come in second.

About a year ago, my wife (S) spent an afternoon with a Japanese friend learning to make them. Essentially, it was a matter of learning how to make the filling (a combination minced pork, cabbage, spring onions, ginger, garlic, salt, sake, sesame oil, soya sauce, and some chilli bean paste), learning to wrap the dumplings, and then the right technique in cooking them up. While I have to admit, I don’t really contribute in the filling-making process—unless you count peering over someone’s shoulder while making lip-smacking munchy sounds a contribution (which S certainly does not)—I do enjoy helping S wrap the dumplings. The first couple of times I tried this, I made a bit of a mess of things. Creating evenly spaced folds in the edges is not as simple as it sounds. And instead of picture perfect gyoza, my initial creations looked more like some poor Tokyo citizen that had been trampled by Godzilla. But after some practice, I can happily say that when I offer my help, S doesn’t swat me away but instead pulls out a chair for me to join her.

Cooking the gyoza is something I enjoy. Essentially, you pan-fry them over pretty high heat until the bottoms are browned. Then you add a little bit of water and cover the pan, allowing the dumplings to steam through. After a couple of minutes you can uncover and cook until the water evaporates.

The above pictured gyoza were made by S for a mid-week meal for me and her father. Incidentally, they are plated on a Staub cast iron plate, given to me by the local distributor. The plate is not only sexy and hardy, but because it is cast iron, retains heat beautifully.