AMERICAN DUMPLINGS

We followed Karen’s mom’s recipe and made our own dumplings while reading her story.

The more you drink, the uglier the dumpling.

This is not an old Chinese proverb. You will not find it in a stale fortune cookie from Panda Express. No, it was the lesson learned last Fourth of July, a blistering holiday my friends and I approached with lukewarm patriotism and a day-long dumpling folding party that involved a case of cheap, light beer, a box of rosé, a bottle of Kraken and a bamboo steamer.  

One joke here is obvious, as a group of first and second-generation immigrants, our American holiday didn’t require “Traditional American Fare” (although we kept the beer). The second joke is that dumplings, more specifically wontons, have been in the United States since before hotdogs and hamburgers. They’re arguably more American than sheet cake decorated with blue and red fruit.

We used some egg wash to keep them all folded.

The history of Chinese food in America is long, storied and varied, but a take-out box of General Tso’s obscures much of that. Chinese food has been in the United States since before the California Gold Rush, so why is it that dumplings, wontons and other Chinese foods have not been accepted into the canon of “American” food? As I struggle to come to terms with what it means for me, a mixed-raced Taiwanese-American with dual citizenship, to live in the United States under blatantly racist and zenophobic leadership, I turn to food and cooking for comfort. When chants like “send her back” echo the racist sentiments of Chinese Exclusion and Japanese Internment, I turn to history for knowledge and power. When a coworker offhandedly calls the texture of Chinese fish cakes “gross”, I now have fodder.

Most people place the introduction of Chinese food to America with the California Gold Rush of 1849. The Chinese, like other immigrants with dreams of striking gold, were fleeing famine and chasing wealth. Wild West movies might depict an occasional glimpse of a “Chinaman”, but in reality, the Chinese made up one in five of the populations around prospecting camps. They built their own little cookshops, the first Chinese restaurants in America, to feed their fellow Chinese workers. The food was cheap and delicious, and the occasional non-Chinese prospector would pop in for a meal as well. 

But racism and violence followed. White prospectors made the same argument Trump supporters make today, that the Chinese were unfairly taking jobs away from “real” Americans. They targeted the food, too. How can the white man, who eats beef and bread, compete with the Chinese, who eat rice? A ridiculous argument, but one that made its way to the political arena. There were lynchings. The Chinese Massacre of 1871. Racism is a forceful political rally, and anti-Chinese sentiment culminated in the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882.

Terrible and inhumane as such an act was, it was also the catalyst for wide-spread Chinese food in America. Since the Chinese Exclusion Act prohibited Chinese laborers from entering the country, Chinese immigrants came to work as businessmen. However, they had to find businesses which wouldn’t threaten the white American man: laundry and cooking. 

Folding them up into little pockets. We opted for a wonton/restaurant napkin type fold for ours because they’re extra cute.

The early cookshops of the Gold Rush developed into more permanent establishments, and by the late 1800’s both East and West Coast Chinatowns were thriving. With the Chinese and their food isolated to specific areas, white journalists saw this as an opportunity to report “anthropological” studies about the Chinese and their peculiar (and often sinister) habits. The food, however, was a hit. It became the cool new thing to fashion yourself an “adventurous eater” and brave the cookshops of Chinatown. They called it “slumming”. To cater to these misguided expectations, many Chinese restaurants evolved to target non-Chinese diners. In the 1890s, a dish was invented which more or less means “leftover scraps” in Chinese, in English we know it as Chop Suey. Cosmopolitan women in particular fell in love with the dish, think of it as the california roll of the early 1900’s. 

This was the origin of modern Chinese-American food and restaurants, ones that cater less to Chinese immigrants and more to their non-Chinese diners. This was also when naming schemes using words such as “golden” and “dragon” started to appear. Almost four decades later, the Chinese Exclusion Act was finally lifted in 1943, which was followed by a new wave of Chinese working class immigrants. With its new labor force, Chinese restaurants moved out of Chinatown and further into cities, towns and suburban strip malls, expanding into chains and local shops. The dishes continued to Americanize, becoming cheaper, simpler and faster. Chinese take-out became widespread, and so did its harmful stereotypes: dirty kitchens, mystery meat and MSG-causing headaches (which has since been rebuked by science). Chinese food has been in this country for over 170 years, some 20 years before hotdogs and 30 years before hamburgers. Chop Suey, General Tso’s and Sesame Chicken are dishes developed for American tastes and eaten in America, not China. 

A plate of finished dumplings ready for steaming, boiling, pan frying or deep frying, depending on your mood.

So why not dumplings for the Fourth of July?

In my mind, our little Independence Day party, while not authentically Chinese, was authentically American. Like our group, our drunken dumplings were irregular, sometimes lumpy. A collection of little quasimodos, sticking to each other in the frying pan or coming apart in the steamer. We changed the recipe to reflect ourselves, subbing the pork for beef to make them halal and folding them to look more like mutant tortellinis than delicate little purses. We paired them with PBR. They were us, a multiracial, multiethnic and multi-religious group of immigrants and immigrant’s children, all American citizens, living on land stolen from Native Americans.

What food gets to be “American,” and what people? On our national holiday, one that pays homage to the contradictory values of colonialism and liberty, we chose to answer that with food. My friends and I, made to feel like foreigners in our own country, we get to be American. To be seen as such, as ugly and embarrassing as that identity can sometimes be. As American as apple pie. Or Chop Suey.

You cannot send us back. 

MAMA LISA’S DUMPLINGS

Recipe Notes: You can use pretty much any ground meat: pork, chicken, beef, shrimp or even turkey. If using beef, I recommend subbing bok choy for cabbage and adding a teaspoon of cumin. The dipping sauce gets better as it settles so you might want to make it the day before. And if you’re planning to steam the dumplings, you can use cabbage leaves instead of paper liners, but be careful not to overcook them or they’ll fall apart. 

Pre-packaged circular dumpling wrappers

For the meat filling:
1 pound ground meat of choice
½ cup scallions
2 cups cabbage, finely chopped
1 large egg
2 teaspoons white pepper
2 teaspoons sesame oil 
2 teaspoons soy sauce 
1 teaspoon rice vinegar 
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon ginger, minced

For vegan filling:
2 cups cabbage, finely chopped
1 cup scallions
1 cup carrots, shredded
1 cup rice noodles, chopped
1 cup shiitake mushrooms, chopped
2 teaspoons white pepper
2 teaspoons sesame oil 
2 teaspoons soy sauce 
1 teaspoon rice vinegar 
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon ginger, minced

For the dipping sauce:
½ cup soy sauce
¼ cup rice vinegar
1 teaspoon sesame oil 
3-4 cloves of garlic, smashed
Thumb of ginger (2 inches or so), peeled and sliced into discs
2 tablespoons scallions, roughly chopped
2 tablespoons cilantro, chopped (optional) 
1 chili pepper, sliced in half with seeds removed (optional)

To make dipping sauce: Mix all ingredients in a bowl and allow to marinate. 

To make filling: Finely chop the cabbage and place it in a large bowl. Sprinkle generously with salt and toss. Allow the cabbage to rest for 5-10 minutes, then strain out the excess water by squeezing the cabbage with your hands. You want to get as much water out of the cabbage as possible. While that is resting, salt the scallions. This will bring out the stickiness which will help your mixture stay together. Last, add all remaining ingredients to the cabbage and mix well. 

To make dumplings: Place a spoonful of the filling in a wrapper and wet the edges with water. 

Pinch together the dumpling in whatever design you wish. I like to fold the dumpling in half, pinch the top together, then add three folds to each side of the dumpling.

Dumplings can be cooked immediately or frozen on a covered baking sheet. Make sure the dumplings do not touch until they are completely frozen! Once frozen, they can be stored together in large plastic bags.

To pan-fry: heat oil in a nonstick pan and place in as many dumplings as fit comfortably. Once browned underneath, pour in enough water to cover the dumplings about halfway. Cover and allow the dumplings to steam until the water evaporates. Once the water is gone, remove the lid and allow the dumplings to crisp up again before serving. 

To boil: Bring a large pot of water to a boil and add dumplings. Cook until the skins are shiny and all the dumplings are floating (about five minutes). 

To steam: Follow the instructions on your bamboo steamer. 

To deep fry: heat vegetable oil to 160° in a heavy pan or a wok and fry dumplings until golden brown.

This time, instead of steaming, we opted to deep fry ours and serve with Thai sweet chili sauce.