CONTENTS

Introduction

Tools

Ingredients

Dumplings 101

Chapter 1: Dumplings

Classic Pork & Chinese Chive Dumplings

Mom’s Cilantro & Pork Dumplings

Szechuan Wontons in Chili Oil

Pork & Crab Dumplings

Pork & Shrimp Dumplings

Thai Green Curry Dumplings

Glazed Barbecued Pork Dumplings

Ma Po Tofu Dumplings

Wheat Flour Wrappers

Chicken Consommé

Shanghai Soup Dumplings

Shrimp Soup Dumplings

Hot & Sour Soup Dumplings

Watercress Beef Dumplings

Lemongrass–Lime Leaf Beef Dumplings

Spicy Beef & Shiso Dumplings

Kimchi Beef Dumplings

Cumin Lamb Dumplings

Chicken & Thai Basil Dumplings

Szechuan Chicken Dumplings

Japanese Curry Chicken Dumplings

Chicken Saag Dumplings

Herby Turkey Dumplings

Peking Duck Dumplings

Lobster Wontons in Corn Chowder

Shrimp Nori Dumplings

Pea Shoots & Leek Dumplings

Edamame Dumplings

Minty Snow Pea Dumplings

Mustard Greens & Mustard Seed Dumplings

Hassled Eggs & Kale Dumplings

Mushroom Dumplings

Butternut Squash–Corn Dumplings

Smashed Sweet Potato Dumplings

Chickpea Dumplings

Lentil-Spinach Momos

Indian Street-Market Dumplings

Pearl Dumplings

Chapter 2: Dips

Soy-Vinegar Dip

Vinegar-Ginger Dip

Toasted Sesame–Soy Dip

Chile-Soy Dip

Dr. Tan’s Chile Dip

Mimi Dip

Spicy Peanut Dip

Peanut Vinaigrette

Hoisin Dip

Asian Barbecue Sauce

Creamy Wasabi Dip

Lemon Sansho Dip

Lemon-Yogurt Dip

Minty Green Dip

New Green Goddess Dip

Mix & Match Dumplings and Dips

Chapter 3: Buns & Noodles

Steamed Buns

Bulgogi Beef Sliders

Pork Belly Buns with Char Siu Sauce

Sloppy Zhou Chicken Curry Buns

Shiitake Mushroom Buns

Sweet Chinese Sausage & Egg Buns

Chilly Chile Rice Noodles

Warm Sesame Noodles

Miso Noodle Soup with Bean Sprouts

Clear Noodle Soup with Chinese Greens

Peanut Saté Noodle Soup with Crispy Shallots

Party Menus

Chapter 4: Salads & Sides

Chopstick Salad with Cucumber, Jicama & Wakame

Citrus-Ginger Salad

Essential Kale Salad

Spicy Tofu Salad

Peanut Saté Salad with Coconut, Carrot, Cucumber & Thai Basil

Herby Salad

Mango-Cilantro Salad

Watermelon & Mint Salad

Pine Nut–Corn Stir-Fry

Tamago Torta

Chilled Tofu with Scallion & Soy-Sesame Vinaigrette

Chapter 5: Finger Foods & Snacks

Herby Summer Rolls

Umami Popcorn

Edamame with Sansho Pepper Salt

Szechuan Pitcher Peanuts

Lotus Root Chips

Quickles

Outdoor Rice Dumplings

Thai Beef Jerky

Chinese Tea Eggs

Party-Planning Tips

Chapter 6: Drinks

Minty Sun Tea

Thai Iced Coffee

Watermelon Juice

Calamansi-ade

Ginger Limeade

Pineapple Drinking Vinegar

Honeyed Ginger Ale

Micheladas

Sangria

Chapter 7: Desserts

Chocolate Soup Dumplings

Mango Lassi Ice Pops

Watermelon Ice Pops

Vietnamese Coffee Pudding Pops

Cardamom Rice Pudding

Matcha Shortcut Shortbread

Green Tea–Marshmallow Treats

Acknowledgments

Index of Searchable Terms

INTRODUCTION

One night, I was at this super-buzzy, New York-y party and a friend introduced me as “Kenny, the founder and owner of Rickshaw Dumplings” to a group of polished, suited lawyers and finance types. One of the women screamed, “Oh my god! I love your Thai chicken dumplings!” loud enough for the whole room to hear. A second later, a guy yelled from across the floor, “Peking duck dumplings rule!” And the rest of the night, people kept coming up to me to tell me their favorites: vegan edamame, Korean beef bulgogi, sweet potato. At first I thought, “Whoa. This is crazy.” Then I thought, “Man! This is awesome!” Growing up in Pasadena, California, as the kind of kid who was regularly sent to the principal’s office, I never thought that one day I’d be recognized because of dumplings in New York City. But that’s the power of dumplings. It’s what’s inside that counts.

I spent a decade running that dumpling company, and there’s one thing I can say with absolute certainty: Everyone loves dumplings! What food lovers across the country don’t know yet is how easy dumplings are to make at home. And how fun they are to make with friends. That’s where this book comes in.

Dumpling-making parties totally rule. They were the ultimate inspiration behind my business and the reason I still love making dumplings at home today. There’s a great shared experience in wrapping and cooking dumplings with friends and family—it’s a little competitive, a lot of yummy.

Doing dumplings is a kind of casual, social get-together where you end up with chopsticks clashing across the table for hot “yeah-we-just-made-this!” food. In these pages, you’ll find awesome recipes for noodles, salads, soups, side dishes, snacks, drinks, and desserts; cool cooking and party tips; and memories from my Chinese-American upbringing.

Party On

I lived for dumpling parties as a kid; they made me feel like I was part of a way bigger family. When I was three, my parents divorced. So it was just me and my mom in Pasadena, living near the curvy, hilly streets by the Rose Bowl, where every other house has a big USC football flag hanging over the front door. My mom and I are really close, so our peaceful lives together had this great feeling of us against the world. But growing up as an only child with just my mom, I always wondered what I was missing out on. I wondered if every night was like dumpling night…

On dumpling nights, which rolled around every few weeks, the Tan family would come over for dinner. The Tans lived down the street and had a daughter, Tracy, who was a year older than me, and a son, Jason, a year younger. We aren’t related to them, but they are definitely family. As a kid, I’d get so excited about our dumpling nights, I’d wear my favorite red E.T. t-shirt. You know, the one where the fingers are touching? (Whoa, eighties!) My mom would warn me, “Kenny! You’ll get your favorite shirt dirty!” She was always right, but it was totally worth it.

I’d wait by the door and swing it open when I saw them walk out of their house. The second they stepped into mine, the whole energy in the room would shift. We’d all get chatty-chatty and the noise would build like the Dolby surround sound ad before movies rolled. I’d get enveloped in that frenetic familial energy and start bouncing off the walls before settling down for dumpling duty.

Everyone always headed straight for the kitchen. There was no formality to our dumpling parties, but there was definitely a system. We worked assembly-line style, setting up the counter with spots for making fillings, stuffing, wrapping, and all the way down to the stove for pan-frying and steaming. On the other side of the stove, we set up a sauce station like a cocktail cart. I had to start at the bottom of the prep totem pole when I was young, the way I did as an adult in high-end kitchens. All I got to do was plop the stuffing in the wrappers. Then I stepped up to wrapping, along with the other kids. Woohoo! From there, I graduated to making fillings and sauces and, finally, to the stove. By the time Jason and I were in high school, we got fry duty and steam duty. We nailed the system and kept the dumplings coming out batch after perfect batch.

That may sound intense, but it was actually totally relaxing. Once you figure out how to make dumplings—and it’s way easy—you get into muscle-memory mode. I still get into that mode when I throw dumpling parties with friends. Just like on my childhood nights with the Tans, we gossip and get zen-like comfortable hanging out, all while turning out hundreds of dumplings. Whatever we don’t eat that night, we freeze to tide us over until the next party. But that feeling of just chilling and chatting and stuffing our faces with hot dumplings—that’s the best. It turns a night with friends into the sort of family night I imagine big families have. I’d never go so far as to call my childhood dumpling nights “dinner parties” because the casual communal cooking was the point. But they were really special.

Everyone loves dumplings and knows how tasty they are when they get them from a restaurant. But the point of making dumplings at home is to enjoy the process with others. Best party ever—plain and simple. It doesn’t hurt that you end up with a freezer full of 10-minute dinners!

Dumpling Delicious

I’ve spent my whole life making and eating dumplings, and my all-time faves are in this book. They’re packed with flavors everyone loves. And I don’t just do dumplings. Even at our childhood parties, we always had salads—we’re such Californians!—and noodles, too. Whatever veg didn’t make it into a dumpling filling ended up as sides. Of course, a party isn’t a party without drinks and desserts. I’m drawing on all the dishes I’ve learned and loved over the years to show you how outrageously fun and easy it is to throw together a dumpling party. Or a simple dinner on any night, for that matter.

At my family dumpling parties, we covered all the proteins, from pork to beef to turkey to chicken to seafood. We did tons of vegetarian options too, even though none of us was actually a vegetarian. And we stirred those same veggies into the meat fillings. The ones I really loved were dark, leafy greens like baby spinach worked into ground chicken or turkey so you could see the green under the thin wrappers. So gorgeous! My mom loves cilantro, so she’d chop a whole huge bunch for her specialty, cilantro and pork dumplings (this page).

We all seasoned the fillings with our basic pantry items: soy sauce, sesame oil, rice vinegar, Shaoxing wine, chiles, sugar. We’d use those same staples to make awesome sauces. We all got into mixing different concoctions. That’s how I learned early on the basics of balancing sweet, sour, salty, and spicy by tasting and experimenting. That’s the great thing about dumplings: The process isn’t complicated. Just build a basic pantry of supermarket ingredients, then stuff the dumplings and whip up the dips. In this book, you’ll also find a mix-and-match chart to help pair tasty dips with different dumplings (this page).

When I was nine, my mom remarried and I got an older stepsister. A little while later, I got a baby half-sister. And I got a food-loving stepdad who won me over by taking me along on every single dinner date with my mom when he was courting her. On our first date (well, his first date with mom), he laid out one rule for me: “Kenny, I want to bring you with us everywhere. But don’t order off the kids’ menu. It’s stupid for you to be going around with us and eating only grilled cheese and hot dogs.” He didn’t have to worry, because I had always been a really good eater who tried and loved everything.

I’ll never forget the Saturday morning he took us to Wolfgang Puck’s Spago for brunch. We sat out in the Austria-meets-Hollywood fairytale garden, in those fantastic eighties pastel-cushioned patio seats, and I ordered the eggs Benedict. Holy Toledo! They blew my mind! They sat the poached egg on focaccia instead of an English muffin and confet-tied it with these pickled grilled peppers that were a sharp kick to the runny eggs and creamy hollandaise. Even as a kid, I was struck by how genius that dish was. Those years of dining out were the first time I had an inkling of what I’d end up doing with my life. Seeing food transformed at Spago into something unexpected but familiar in such a spectacular setting was as awesome to me as getting grilled pastrami Reubens at Barney’s, our family hangout set in a block of porn shops. Other nights, we hit Noodle King, our go-to for doughy northern Chinese pork dumplings, veggie buns, and stewed beef soup noodles served with chilled, sharp tofu and garlicky cucumber salads. The grimy little linoleum-tiled restaurant was set in this crumbling art deco building, but it served the best Chinese comfort food. No frills, ultimate satisfaction.

Stuff-My-Face Study Abroad

I left those happy eating years with my new family of five for Brown University. I arrived as an International Studies major, gunnin’ for the best grades and clamoring for the top. My parents never pushed me to do any one thing professionally, but they showed me how to succeed in business by starting their own real estate development company after they got married. I learned a lot in my classes, but it was my year outside of Providence that really changed me. I spent a semester studying abroad in China and basically ate my way through the country.

It wasn’t my first time in China; growing up, I had gone there on family trips. My earliest visit was with my mom, right after she divorced my biological dad. Even though I was only four at the time, I still have vivid memories of how awesome breakfast there was: steamed or fried soft, yeasty buns or flaky onion rolls on one side of the plate, steaming rice porridge or soup on the other, spiked with spicy pickles. The contrast between the bitter cold outside and the hot food inside made for the best eating experience ever.

By the time I went to China on my own at age twenty, I had been a few other times with my family. Each trip, all I did was eat and eat and talk about the food. When I met my study-abroad group, I was surprised that there were students who had priorities other than eating while traveling. Then I met Bridget. We ate our way through China like no one’s business. I can’t even tell you how much we friggin’ ate there. Dumplings and dumplings, then on to other street food stalls, where we’d grab flaky sesame bread sandwiches, soy milk, and eggs fried into crêpes. When we discovered how cheap Peking duck was there, we had it for every meal until our bodies shut down. To recover, we had cleansing la mien (hand-pulled) noodles cooked in huge vats of hot broth.

On the other end of the spectrum, I sampled the haute cuisine of the nouveau riche and ex-pats. I was a poor student, but I landed an internship at a consulting firm. Those Chinese businessmen would take me to these crazy places and I kinda had to eat everything. Not that I’m complaining; it was all delicious. I’ll never forget this shocking sea urchin dish: It was cooked and hot, but served with an al dente texture and oceany mildness. Not a lot of seasoning, but heaps of flavor. That dish, like so many at these high-end places, showed me how the best Asian food relies on impeccable ingredients as much as Western food does.

That was also true at the hole-in-the-wall dumpling joints. In Beijing, they used garlic that was so fresh, it was juicy when raw. There was a whole art form to peeling those pungent cloves to stuff into chewy thick wrappers with sesame oil, or to steeping them in black vinegar for dipping sauce.

That unusual combo of clean flavors was fantastic. Other vegetarian varieties used greens that were so fresh, you could really taste their anisey sweetness or their crunchy celery-like savoriness. I loved the large variety of mushrooms—some earthy, some funky, some mellow.

As I traveled south, I found that the dumpling wrappers got thinner and the fillings more flavorful, and I preferred them that way. The handmade dough in Beijing meant that the dumplings were more of a starch, a necessarily hearty dish for the harsh winters. The delicate southern-style dumpling skins meant the end products had to be smaller—which meant I could eat more of them! But the other distinction was that the dumplings themselves were less dependent on the accompanying sauces for flavor. In Szechuan especially, the insides had to be powerful enough to counter the chili oil that went on top.

My nonstop eating tour of Chinese dumplings was like a never-ending version of my dumpling parties at home. I missed cooking with my family, but I gained a new shared experience with Bridget, who became like a sister to me, and, in a weird larger sense, with the millions of Chinese dumpling eaters all around me. I returned home with strong food memories, a renewed love of dumplings, and no clue about what to do after graduation.

Going Pro

As a kid, the closest I ever got to nailing my future career was during a speech contest in eighth grade. I said I was going to be an entrepreneur. My parents had just quit their secure full-time jobs and bought a house as their first real estate development project. We moved in, renovated it, and moved on (actually, in) to the next project. I got really involved in their business, doing the logo for the company, tagging along to collect rents, wrapping quarters for the laundry machines. I knew I’d want my own business someday, but I had no idea it was going to be food and restaurants, and I didn’t know how it was going to happen.

My first year right out of college, I became an analyst at an economic consulting firm in Boston. At the end of my first year, my bosses told me I was doing great and handed over a fat bonus. Looking at the amount, I asked, “Is this the maximum I can get?” They smiled and quickly replied, “Yes! That’s the highest amount for first-year analysts.” I took the money and quit. I got pulled into that office culture in the first place; I never wanted to be there. It was just what Ivy grads did and it was a lot of money, but I wasn’t satisfied. I spent most of that year sorting out what I really wanted to do in my head. I knew I loved restaurants. I kinda took a leap of faith and decided to try that world.

I started doing my homework, researching which restaurant groups were growing fast, and Drew Nieporent’s name kept popping up. I did my own business analysis of their group to determine what they needed for successful growth to scale their business. I wrote a proposal for how to implement a rigorous development program for managers to make each restaurant self-sufficient. I was so young, so naïve!

And I was so determined to get it into Drew’s hands somehow. I went old school and looked up his name in the white pages. How many Nieporents could there be? “Sybil Nieporent” sounded promising, so I rang her up. It was his mother. She gave me a number and said, “You call Drew and say that Sybil told you to call.” He called me back in five minutes. The power of mothers, right?

I didn’t waste any time: “Drew, I’d love to shoot you this business plan for your company.” He replied, shocked, “You have a business plan for me? Well, send it to my business partner, Michael Bonadies. He’s the one spearheading our growth.” Not long after, I ended up meeting with Drew, Michael, and Marty Shapiro—all three partners of Myriad Restaurant Group—in one day. It was a crazy “interview,” but it got me a job.

I did everything from running fish from Tribeca Grill to Nobu, photocopying receipts, bussing tables, pouring wine, and working catered events to cooking on the line. I’d start with a breakfast meeting with Michael, take reservations at Nobu, run to do a preshift lunch front of house at Tribeca Grill, then run to do preshift garde manger back of house at Centrico, then prep dinner at Montrachet, then work tables at Nobu.

It was so tiring working those hours, but I loved it when the restaurants got super-duper busy. When I was training to be a server at Tribeca Grill, I remember getting this floating feeling when everyone on staff was in the zone. We instinctively knew which tables needed bread, which ones needed water. We dropped the apps right on time, and we could all feel it. It’s such an amazing, addictive thrum, that vibration in the dining room when it all comes together. Even after I got to do more of the big stuff as special projects director, I loved the high-low nature of my job. It’s kinda how I function even today—and how I pull off perfect dumpling parties. You’re getting down and dirty with wrapping dumplings to get a really refined, beautiful meal. After all the messy cooking together, you and your friends end up with a big, fantastic party where everyone shares a food-fueled energy.

The best part about dumplings: They’re really not fancy food. Early in my career, Drew taught me that high-end cooking isn’t the only source of real satisfaction. I guess I already knew that because it’s how I like to eat. I’ve gotten as much pleasure from four-star haute cuisine temples as I have from hole-in-the-wall dumpling joints. Drew helped me see that I can enjoy the same dichotomy on the other side of the table, too. Maybe that explains the weird trajectory my career took. I went from working super high-end restaurants to opening fast-casual joints to operating food trucks. Those years with Drew actually led me down this path and taught me a ton. I developed an amazing palate by tasting a huge range of dishes at restaurant openings, and I put all those tastes and ideas into the recipes in this book, as well as the lessons in pairing real hospitality with food. I’m passing on the skills and experiences I got from professional dining rooms that will make your dumpling gatherings the best dinner parties you ever throw.

Doing Dumplings

After 9/11, the restaurant business in New York City really dried up. I decided it was a good time for me to go to business school and figure out what I wanted to do next. I knew I wanted to stay in the hospitality industry, but wasn’t sure in what capacity.

Figuring that out was a great perk of b-school, but the best thing I got out of it was David Weber, my former business partner. I had been toying with the idea of a dumpling shop for a while, combining my favorite food in the world with my love of the restaurant business. When the entrepreneurship class announced a new business competition, I told David, “I’m actually thinking about doing this. You’re gonna help me write this business plan. But if you’re gonna write this plan, I need to know if you’re in or out.” David got really into it and we entered our dumpling restaurant plan. That year, we didn’t make it past the first round. The next year, we didn’t win either. But we did start looking for investors. I hated asking for money, but it went relatively easily. Because people love dumplings! I ended up being the face of the business and the link to the food. I’m not a chef—I’m a really good home cook—but Anita Lo is a phenomenal chef. And we were lucky enough to snag her for Rickshaw.

To complement the recipes from my Rickshaw days, I’ve included my personal favorites. These come from combos I did with my mom growing up, with my (vegetarian!) husband now, and with (omnivorous) friends. I use ingredients that can be found in major American supermarkets and techniques that are totally unintimidating. Even though these dumplings are easy to make, they’re super-pretty, too. They’re pleated and packaged like elegant little purses, and the colorful fillings show through the thin wrappers. As for flavors, I’m not getting too hung up on authenticity. I like to go over and beyond cultural boundaries to create amazing international food. As long as it makes your mouth happy, it rocks.

The dumplings made from the recipes in this book are going to be better than any you’ve had at restaurants. Seriously. Because the main technique used—the one I’ve loved most since I was a kid—is pan-frying. Pan-fried dumplings are brazenly browned on one side and soft and juicy on the other. Yum, right?

You can make great dumplings! I promise. Over the years, I’ve learned that you can teach anyone to fill, wrap, and cook these babies like a frickin’ pro. All you need is to be crazy excited about trying them! So get pumped! Let’s do this!

Ode to Anita

I couldn’t do a dumpling book without including the recipes from Rickshaw, my former dumpling company. Superstar chef Anita Lo created those dishes. I fell in love with her Rickshaw recipes at first taste and still love them every time I make them at home.

Anita is the chef and owner of Annisa in New York City’s Greenwich Village. She and her restaurant have won a gazillion awards because her food totally rocks. I’ve eaten at the best restaurants all over the world and Annisa ranks way up there. When I decided to start a dumpling restaurant, I knew I wanted her to be a part of the team. I contacted Anita during my first year of business school and said, “I’m doing this dumpling concept and I think it’d be great for you.” I was pumped! Working with Anita was a dream. I was so happy to have an amazing chef working on this concept, and she came up with an unbelievable menu.

The core of this book’s recipes is the original collection of dumplings, dips, sides, and sweets Anita developed for Rickshaw. She has the uncanny ability to be very authentic to Asian flavors, but to make the dishes palatable to all other tastes as well. So she didn’t do durian or bitter melon dumplings, but she threw aromatic Thai basil into the chicken dumplings that became Rickshaw’s runaway bestseller. Anita nailed the recipes right out of the gate. Her recipes are very ingredient-driven and chef-inspired, but they’re also really doable. Somehow, she manages to create complex, well- balanced tastes with easy-to-find ingredients and basic techniques. In short, genius.

Lovers of Rickshaw Dumplings will recognize some of Anita’s signature recipes in this book. In addition to the bestselling Chicken & Thai Basil Dumplings (this page) with Spicy Peanut Dip (this page), there are a bunch of her recipes in here, from the Classic Pork & Chinese Chive (this page) to Kimchi Beef (this page), Szechuan Chicken (this page), Peking Duck (this page), Shrimp Nori (this pagethis pagethis pagethis page