Kristina Cho, a first-generation Chinese American who grew up making dumplings in her grandfather’s Chinese restaurant, remembers her family settling in their different cookie-making roles each year: her father made the pleats, her uncle did packages and the mother cooked while others relaxed and ate at the table.
“Dumplings are made to make the family because it’s a laborious process,” said Cho, a San Francisco-based food blogger and recipe developer who has been teaching virtual cookie workshops since Covid-19 started last March.
The making of dumplings, the longstanding Lunar New Year ritual, is usually done during festive gathering dinners, conversations, nosy relatives and families who take on tacitly distributed functions to usher in a celebration of new beginnings, wealth and good luck.
“Dumplings are made to make a family because it is a laborious process.”
The Year of the Ox on February 12 is the second new moon after the Winter Solstice and the second animal in the Chinese zodiac, meaning diligence, conscience and patience. And just as this year’s plaque incorporates tirelessly, Chinese dumpling workshops are striving to preserve the communal tradition through online platforms during the pandemic.
As the manufacture of cookies is a collective process, the distance forced by the pandemic seems to be multiplied. “I made the transition from my face-to-face classes to a virtual format because I was losing human connection,” said Cho. “It was a source of joy or entertainment for other people as well. So it worked both ways. “
For Cho, retrofitting for remote instruction meant adapting his class recipes to be adventurous and open to any type of meat or vegetable instead of a specific type, which offered space for creative dumpling fillings, such as smoked tofu, shiitake mushroom, cabbage and shrimp.
Dumplings or jiaozi, which is also associated with prosperity in Chinese, are made from a store-bought or artisanal dough that consists of flour, hot water and a pinch of salt, according to Cho, who says that building dumplings from scratch makes all the difference . Traditional fillings include a mixture of seasoned ground pork and napa cabbage, which is then sealed, chopped and usually boiled during the Lunar New Year.
“You need to find a workable dough with the right balance and texture that is not too elastic or rigid so that you can get all the intricate pleats there,” said Cho, who pointed out that the art of making dumplings requires rigor, finesse and clean pleats in uniform sizes. “I always tell people that you shouldn’t make cookies for people you don’t like, because it’s a serious job of love. It is an art form. “
Yin Yang, founder of The Dumpling Academy in the Chinatown district of Philadelphia, stressed the importance of showing the subtle folds of the cookie because of the tradition it carries in Chinese culture.
“People need to watch my finger movements closely when I stuff the cookies. In China, different dynasties had their own money, which is why some styles of folding are named after a currency, ”said Yang, who came to the United States in his twenties from Xuzhou, a region in northern China famous for its tradition in the manufacture of cookies. “The more cookies you make, the more fortune you have that year.”
The most common yuan bao fold, similar to the gold and silver ingots used in imperial China from the Qin dynasty until the fall of the Qing dynasty in the early 20th century, folds the packaging in a semicircle and seals the two ends completely.
Other versions, such as the rose-shaped fold, simply roll up the cookie after protecting the edges to prevent the fillings from falling out.
The custom of making and eating dumplings that mimic the shape of ancient Chinese money was supposedly popularized during the Ming dynasty from the late 1300s to the early 1600s, which also used gold and silver ingots as currency.
But the Chinese stuffed dumplings originated in the Han dynasty and lasted until the beginning of the 3rd century. According to Asian folklore, a man who returned to his ancestral village during the winter cooked a batch of lamb, pepper and herbs, and wrapped it in pieces of dough in the shape of ears to provide to the neighbors who suffered from frostbite. , mainly around the ears.
Yang said she remains anxious for the pre-pandemic days, when she interspersed her classes with culture, tradition and trips to local Asian markets in Chinatown with her participants before class, signaling which aisles and shelves to go to buy certain unaccompanied ingredients later. .
His workshop was one of the small businesses in America’s tough Chinatowns that were financially hit by the pandemic. Yang currently does not have a rental space after moving last May because of high costs and an unforeseen future.
Now, in place of these community-oriented events, she has invested in two cameras to host her first post-pandemic cookie workshop during the Lunar New Year. One will capture general photos, while the other focuses on your hands.
Michael Dorsey founded Dumpling Dudez in Houston with his partner, Chih Lin, but they were forced to shut down and turn to making virtual dumplings in October because of the pandemic. Dorsey said he was not as concerned with translating the intricate folds in Zoom’s online calls as he was about preserving the intrinsic sense of community in cookie making.
Her face-to-face classes involve several masses with color schemes such as red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple, which the participants would choose and exchange with each other in a common bowl.
“In our virtual classes, we give everyone a taste of all the masses,” said Dorsey, adding that they offered pick-ups for virtual experience kits and had to give up the face-to-face call from their workshops, reminiscent of a classroom lesson. art. “Now everyone gets their own vacuum-packed, personalized, Covid-suitable pasta package in a box, not a commercial kitchen. This food sharing community is a little different, but we can still share the experience together. “
Cho, who donates a portion of his quarterly income to charities, said he raised $ 500 this year for Save Our Chinatowns, a grassroots initiative to support community centers around the Bay Area. Although restrictions on coronavirus and racially motivated fears have left many Asian Americans frustrated, she said that shouldn’t detract from the essence of the holiday.
“There is a lot of tension building up now for the Asian community,” said Cho. “It is almost difficult to celebrate. But we’re trying to find the little joys, and making food may be all you need. “