Dumplings for perpetually hungry gannet-nieces

Today my visiting nieces requested dumplings for lunch and instead of going for the supermarket variety (Waiheke may be well-served when it comes to wineries but it is sadly lacking in cheap and cheerful Asian joints), we decided to make them ourselves. Of course that really meant me filling and pleating countless little parcels myself while they sheltered from the rain and watched a movie. It may take a little while to make up a decent number of them, but the other prep is quick and simple and I like the meditative quality of this kind of repetitive cooking task.

These dumplings are more like Japanese gyoza than the Chinese ones eaten in their dozens on the Balmoral dumpling strip. Half frying/half steaming them like this results in dumplings that are toothsomely crispy on one side and soft and chewy on the other; the best of both worlds.

Makes 30–40 with leftover filling

 

Dumplings 

500g pork mince (free-range, of course)

2 cloves garlic, very finely chopped

1 spring onion, very finely chopped

2cm piece of ginger, peeled and finely grated

5 dried shiitake mushrooms, soaked to soften and finely chopped

1 tbsp soy sauce

1 tbsp sesame oil, plus extra for frying

pinch of salt

30–40 dumpling wrappers (available at Asian food stores and some supermarkets)

neutral vegetable oil for shallow frying

Dipping sauce 

soy sauce

rice vinegar

chilli (fresh, oil, or sauce), optional

toasted sesame seeds

finely sliced spring onion, for colour

 

Put the pork mince in a large bowl. Fill a small bowl with warm water.

Add all other dumpling ingredients except the wrappers to the pork and use your hands to mix everything together well.

Clean and dry your hands thoroughly (so the wrappers don’t stick). Place a dumpling wrapper on one hand and put 1 teaspoon of filling in the centre of the wrapper. (Don’t be tempted to use more or the dumplings will bulge and burst when cooking.)

Dip your finger in the warm water and wet the entire circumference of the wrapper, around the filling. Fold the wrapper in half to form a semi-circle and pinch the edges to form crimped, fully sealed little dumplings. Make sure they are sealed well, or they’ll open when you’re cooking them. If making 30–40 dumplings, you will probably have filling left over. You can freeze it for next time you have a dumpling-making craving, or if you’re more organised than me, make up extra dumplings and freeze them for a super-easy future fix.

Place one very large or two medium-sized frying pans over a medium-high heat and add the sesame oil and enough of the other oil to shallow fry. (Depending on how big your pans are you may need to cook the dumplings in batches; you don’t want to overcrowd the pan or they won’t go crispy.) Once the oil is shimmering, add the dumplings and cook for 3–4 minutes, until golden and crispy on one side.

Add 3 tablespoons of water to the pan and immediately cover with a lid. Cook for 6–7 minutes, until the wrappers are translucent, the meat is cooked (cut into one to check) and no water is left in the pan. Remove the lid and cook for a further minute or so to ensure the bottoms are crispy.

Mix together the soy sauce, vinegar, chilli (if using), sesame seeds and spring onion. Taste and adjust the ingredients as desired. Serve the dipping sauce alongside the dumplings and try to resist burning your mouth in the rush to get some before your nieces devour them all.

Although I’d like to say I always make my own wrappers, I’ve only done it a couple of times. I figure dumplings are fiddly enough without adding another step to something that I see as a simple meal, and the wrappers you can buy, such as these ones, are pretty good.

Two takes on Hawaiian poke

With several more poke-devoted eateries opening in Auckland recently, New Zealand seems to be fully embracing a dish that has been making a buzz in places like LA for a while, and in Hawai‘i for, well, centuries.

Poke, which according to some sources is pronounced ‘poh-kay’ and others ‘poh-keh’ (this seems more likely to me, seeing it’s a Polynesian language), means ‘to cut’ or ‘section’, referring to the raw fish that is the star of the show.

 

I found two recent cookbooks focusing on the tasty bowl-food. Poke: Hawaiian-inspired sushi bowls by Celia Farrar and Guy Jackson of Eat Poke in London has an abstract pop-art style cover and a more fast-and-loose approach to ingredients, while The Poke Cookbook: the freshest way to eat fish by Martha Cheng sticks with a more trad food-pic cover and ingredients (though it does have a ‘modern’ section). Both include seafood and vegetarian versions. Cheng’s book also includes a section called ‘Local Style’, which has recipes for Hawaiian favourites like kālua pig (pork ‘butt’ cooked in an underground imu), butter mochi (a chewy, custardy baked treat) and lychee fizz, and Farrar and Jackson include a drinks section, with both alcoholic and booze-free offerings.

I’ve flagged many recipes in both of the books for my next trip to the seafood market, but the spirit of poke is versatility – it’s more about the style of preparation than sticking to particular ingredients – so in that spirit, I made up my own combination based on what we had at home.

Our compile-your-own poke bowls featured a mix of brown basmati and red rice; ribbons of purple and orange carrot; thinly sliced radish, red capsicum, spring onion, avocado (hooray that they are no longer the price of an Auckland house deposit) and iceberg lettuce for crunch; rehydrated dried seaweed from the Asian supermarket; and trevally marinated in lemon juice and coconut cream and combined with diced cucumber, tomato and red onion and perked up with a little minced fresh chilli. Because condiments are everything, we topped it all off with drizzles of kewpie mayo, soy sauce and sesame oil and sprinklings of my homemade furikake (made using seaweed collected from the local beach; you can find the recipe here) and chopped roasted and salted macadamias. As we were putting it all together, it felt a bit odd adding nuts to a meal that takes its cues from Japanese cuisine, but the crunchy, creamy macadamias – a staple of traditional Hawaiian poke – really make this dish.

Despite the fairly long list of ingredients, one of the joys of poke is the simplicity of preparation: chop everything up roughly the same size and serve over rice, or if you fancy, just veg. You don’t necessarily have to prepare a marinated fish, either – unadulterated thinly sliced or cubed raw fish is a marvellous thing, as long as you can get your hands on very fresh fish.

Now the library-book test (am I happy to return it, or do I want to renew my loan so I can savour it longer, or buy the book?). I admit that in this instance, I am judging a book/books by the cover, and buying Celia Farrar and Guy Jackson’s version.

The Poke Cookbook: the freshest way to eat fish by Martha Cheng (Clarkson Potter, 2017) and Poke: Hawaiian-inspired sushi bowls by Celia Farrar and Guy Jackson (2017).