Tag Archives: dumplings

YEAR OF THE WATER DRAGON

Chinese New Year has always been my favorite holiday. (Thanksgiving is a close second). When I was growing up, my parents would throw epic annual parties at our house that usually ended in drunken Chinese opera singing and gifts of money in tiny red envelopes. (How I treasured those envelopes!) Sometimes my mom would make dumplings from scratch, and everyone would rave at how delicious they were. She always kept it simple — just pork and minced chives. Our galas became so infamous that when I was in high school, my friends, begging for an invitation, would crash our house in droves of 5 and 10.

Last year, with the help of my friend Yung Chang, I hosted an unbelievable party where we made thousands of dumplings and did karaoke. Okay, the night was really, really, really epic. But this year, for the year of the water dragon, I almost didn’t throw a party. Yung was away on set for his latest film, and Adam was gone on another assignment. No celebration this year, I thought.

Unexpectedly, at the eleventh hour, I got inspired. I emailed a small but solid gang of friends, and bought a few bags of frozen (sorry, Mom) dumplings, some vegetables, and a gorgeous striped sea bass from Marche Oriental, and began to cook. The dinner was slightly more elaborate than defrosted dumplings and cold beer, but still simple, simple, simple. There was Chinese broccoli coated in black vinegar, dan dan noodles provided by Bartek, crispy fried noodles (all those noodles are excellent for longevity), a beautiful cabbage salad made by Katherine, and that tender sea bass, poached for four minutes in salted water and then coated in a luscious, aromatic sauce.

I’m a fan of the impromptu gathering, of the lower expectations and relaxed vibes. As a Libra, I will always love a big, out of control party, but I secretly prefer the chill zone of a small group and simple offerings. You know when you have a really good feeling about a year? I have a great feeling about 2012.

K, my favorite recipe for dumpling dunking sauce:

3 T smooth peanut butter

4-6 T reduced sodium soy sauce, to taste (add a few more shakes if your peanut butter is on the sweet side)

2-4 T rice vinegar (I also like the more intense black vinegar)

2-3 T finely minced ginger

2-3 T finely minced garlic

2-4 t sriracha or red chili paste (or even more if you’re feeling gutsy)

2 t sesame oil

2 t oyster sauce

big handful cilantro, finely chopped another big handful parsley, finely chopped

few stems scallions, chopped

the juice of a lime or lemon

salt and black pepper, to taste

Add all ingredients and stir until smooth. Refrigerate for at least an hour before serving. Let the flavors get to know one another. Use for dumpling dipping and serve with extra dishes of black vinegar and hot sauce.

Happy New Year!!!!!!

YEAR OF THE GOLDEN RABBIT

As many of my friends know, Chinese New Year is my very favorite holiday (my second favorite holiday, Thanksgiving, is the other great gustatory-centric day of the year). And every year I throw a party.

So this year — for my first lunar new year in Montreal — I celebrated with a huge dumpling bash that I planned with my friends.

We planned to make about 1,000 dumplings for about 50-60 people, figuring everyone would want about 20 dumplings each. But there were plenty of other snacks on hand, including steamed pork buns, pineapple candies, Haw flakes (the candy of my youth!!) and outstanding kung pao chicken by Anthony

…as well as these succulent Chinese five-spice ribs by Bartek.

They were a mega success.

And because it is the Year of the Rabbit, Yung made an incredible “Chinese spaghetti” with some tender rabbit gifted by some friends.

But the real star of the evening (not including post-dumpling karaoke session) were the hundreds of dumplings that we churned out.

Seriously, hundreds.

Xi Feng was our fearless dumpling leader, and expertly guided everyone through the process. It was amazing to watch.

I think I spent hours just dicing vegetables, meats and herbs. Thank god for my food processor. This was a bowl of vegetarian dumplings (mushroom, tofu, carrot, scallion, garlic, and cilantro)…

…but my favorite were definitely the meatier variations. We focused primarily on pork dumplings, an extremely auspicious food for the new year.

There were so many dumplings, every single inch of counter space was crawling with the tiny pouches of delight.

There were plenty of tutorials to show everyone how to make a perfect dumpling so each guest could get involved.

Everyone pitched in.

Most of them were boiled…

…but I also decided to fry some up, Jiaozi style. At that point I was so wasted, it’s a miracle I didn’t sustain severe peanut oil burns all over my arms. Why you ask?

Yung decided the most important ingredient for our party was a case of highly contraband Chinese sorghum whiskey, otherwise known as baijiu.

The baijiu, coupled with endless reserves of wine and beer, was a huge hit, mostly because they involved Yung standing on a chair and conducting round after round of toasts celebrating the new year. After completing my evening with a karaoke rendition of ‘Rainbow in the Dark,’ I deemed it the best Chinese New Year’s yet.

CHOOSING NOT TO BE SURE

I’m moving on Tuesday so the last week has been pure chaos. I’ve been trying to stay normal with my cooking routines but I’ve been slacking nonetheless. For lunch, extra crispy shrimp jiaozi with apple cider vinegar with a simple iceberg lettuce (it was all I could find, weirdly good anyway) salad with shredded basil, quartered tomatoes and roasted walnuts with balsamic.

I’m taking hardly ANYTHING with me up north which is pretty liberating but also terrifying. I vowed to not pack any books or CDs so I can justify taking my record collection. The compromises we make with ourselves…

“We walked without knowing where. That was the fun of the thing: choosing not to be sure of our territory. The threat of the new place was less because I was with him: I thought it would be ok. It always had been. The hem of the new skirt brushed his hand as we walked. Short, he said, it’s very short, keeping going. We couldn’t have been out five minutes before it started. Just an uneasy feeling in the back of my neck, then footsteps. I could hear footsteps too like our own, an exact rhythm.”

Janice Galloway, Foreign Parts.