If we’re going Asian, I gotta have potstickers, gyoza in Japanese restaurants and jiaozi in Chinese eateries. Either way, they are dumplings – made with garlicky meat or shrimp and vegetables, wrapped in a thin noodle-like wrapper with pleated edges – and they are delicious. You can get them steamed or fried, and they are usually served with soy sauce for dipping.
In an Italian restaurant, I love a good ravioli. That’s probably a throwback to my childhood that featured Chef Boyardee canned pastas regularly: of course, ravioli, but we mustn’t forget the SpaghettiOs! These days, my tastes and me are all grown up, so if I’m craving Italian, it’s gotta be Giuseppes in the Smoke Tree Plaza in South Palm Springs; this little hole-in-the-wall even features “Crispy Ravioli” as a starter – cheese ravioli encrusted with Italian-seasoned breadcrumbs and served with marinara and pesto sauce. At the end of the day, a ravioli is really just an Italian dumpling.
When I lived in LA, I frequented Canter’s Deli on Fairfax, in an orthodox Jewish neighborhood, where I’d always order a bowl of “Mish Mosh” soup – a giant matzo ball with kreplach, rice, and noodles in chicken broth, to which I’d add sliced carrots – which introduced me to the Jewish kreplach: small dumplings filled with ground meat, mashed potatoes, or other fillings, usually boiled and served in soup, though they may also be served standalone, in which case they are usually fried.
I attended a Polish Catholic seminary in Western Massachusetts, founded and run by Franciscan Friars from Poland. Not only did I learn how to sing the Polish “happy birthday” song – Sto lat! – in their wretched language, but they introduced me to the pierogi: you guessed it!… dumplings filled with cabbage, potatoes, cheese, or mushrooms and sealed in a pasta-like wrapper that is either steamed or fried, not unlike Chinese jiaozi or Japanese gyoza; in fact, the Poles believe that jiaozi traveled west with the Mongols through Russia, finding their way to — and flourishing in — Poland. And now, I bring you Happy Birthday in Polish (Sto lat!… which translates to “One Hundred Years” or “may you live one hundred years” or some such nonsense):
Sto lat, sto lat
Niech żyje, żyje nam.
Sto lat, sto lat,
Niech żyje, żyje nam,
Jeszcze raz, jeszcze raz,
Niech żyje, żyje nam,
Niech żyje nam!
Growing up in Glendale, California, I was well acquainted with the phenomenon that is Porto’s Cuban Bakery and Café. So when they opened a location in Burbank near my office, I made sure to stop by on my way to work – five days a week!
Start with a Cafe Cubano – a strong, sweet, dark-roasted coffee drink originating from Cuba consisting of an espresso shot made with a finely ground, dark-roasted coffee mixed with brown sugar to create a creamy espuma (“foam”) that is then topped with espresso – and an empanada, a crescent-shaped fried or baked savory dumpling filled with ground meat and veggies, and spices.
Empanadas can be found throughout Latin America; the origins of the empanada are in Galicia, Spain, and a version of the flaky, handheld dumpling can be found nearly anywhere colonized by the Spanish, including Sicily and the Philippines.
Add Ethiopia’s sambusas, India’s samosas, Turkey’s mantis, Korea’s mandus, Britain’s Cornish pasties (also popular in Australia and New Zealand) and it seems that nearly every culture on every continent has a dish that tucks a bit of sweet or savory filling into dough that’s then baked, fried, steamed, or boiled. Dumplings, no matter their origin or ingredients, are always a precious little gastronomic gift. Is it any wonder, then, that we use ‘dumpling’ as a term of endearment?
There’s something extraordinarily satisfying about biting into the perfect dumpling, whether it’s the tug of dough, the burst of steam, or that first hit of its filling. As I took a deep dive this morning into the origins and history of the dumpling, I was struck by how simple it really is: meager ingredients, typically inexpensive meats, seafood, or cheese, potatoes, herbs and spices, with a little help from some flour and water mixed together to make dough. This inexpensive wonder-food, so yummy in the tummy, is unpretentious, hearty, and substantial.