“There are two kinds of people: those who think there are two kinds of people and those who are smart enough to know better.” -Tom Robbins
As much as I generally defer to Mr. Robbin’s outlook, I do make one distinction. There are two subsets of people in the world: those who like their vegetarian jiaozi (dumpling) potstickers steamed, and those who like their potstickers fried.
I like my potstickers fried.
My husband was happily taken aback when I made jiaozi this week – he’s usually the Chinese food cook in our apartment. He lived in Beijing for a couple of years and traveled to Mongolia, too. He makes things that I can’t even pronounce, so I leave it to him to wield the wok. The few times in our 15-year marriage that I’ve made stir-frys, I sound like a stereotypical husband in a bad cooking infomercial.
“Honey? When I add the aromatics do I have to have the oil really hot, or just regular hot?”
“The cookbook says that I need oyster sauce, but we don’t have oyster sauce! Do you usually use oyster sauce? Should I run out to the store to get some?”
I’ve been a Chinese-food chicken, in other words, and I’m sick of being embarrassed by my fear. So, I saw a recipe for potstickers this week and suddenly I felt brave, and even sure of myself. I was going to make jiaozi, but I was going to do it with ingredients that I liked, and I didn’t care if I screwed them up.
And I think that’s what made them so good.
I didn’t even add liquid, I just preheated a pan with a couple of tablespoons of peanut oil and I fried those babies for a few minutes on both sides.
My husband maintains that I’ve never had really good steamed jiaozi, and that I should suspend my judgment on the “fried vs. steamed” debate until I do. But, I’m standing firm on the fried side. I like the crisp texture, and steamed potstickers just look like little wilted human ears – something that you would see in a scene from “Pulp Fiction.”
But, I like to think that I’m a reasonable woman, so feel free to explain the appeal of steamed dumplings.
Fried Vegetarian Dumplings (Based on a recipe from Smitten Kitten)
1/2 pound firm tofu
1/2 cup shredded purple cabbage
¼ cup of finely chopped red pepper
3 chopped scallions
2 teaspoons of grated or chopped ginger
1 tablespoon of cilantro
1 tablespoon soy sauce
6 shakes of sesame oil
7 shakes of Mongolian fire oil (if you don’t have any, substitute a little cayenne)
1 package of wonton wrappers
Water
Cut the tofu in half horizontally and lay between layers of paper towels. Place on a paper plate, top with another paper plate, and weigh it down with a large cookbook or a large can. Let the tofu stand for 25 minutes. (You won’t believe the moisture that comes out, so you might even want to do this in the sink.) Add the soy sauce, sesame oil and Mongolian fire oil (or cayenne) to a bowl. Dice the tofu as finely as possible, (which isn’t difficult, it wants to be in little pieces) and dice the vegetables. Stir every time you add new items into the bowl to make sure that they get some of the soy sauce oil mixture. (I added the liquid first and kept stirring so that the dumpling filling would have a few minutes to marinate.)
To form the dumplings, brush each edge of the wrappers with water, place a teaspoon of the filling in the middle and fold it over. Then brush water on all the top and both sides of the wrapper and crimp.
Heat a 12-inch saute pan over medium heat. Add 2 tablespoons of the peanut or vegetable oil until a piece of scallion sizzles when it hits the pan. Cook until golden brown.
Serve immediately if you can, but they are good at room temperature too.
Potsticker Dipping Sauce
1/3 cup of soy sauce
1/4 cup of rice wine
6 shakes sesame oil
6 shakes Mongolian fire oil
Scallions to garnish
