Vegetarian

A simple, everyday relish from India, this condiment adds a wallop of fresh spiciness to food. Each cook has a different take on green chutney, and many add chopped onion and grated coconut. The straightforward approach here keeps the flavors bright. Green chutney is purposely hot, but feel free to seed the chiles or use a less-alarming chile, such as jalapeño, for less dramatic results.

Sweet, salty, and rich, this delicately flavored condiment unites and enhances the flavors of Cantonese steamed rice rolls (pages 156 to 160). It comes together quickly and tastes great, especially if flavorful cold-pressed peanut oil, the kind sold at Chinese markets, is used. If you use canola oil, add a dash of sesame oil for nuttiness.

A rich, dark honey color, this tart-sweet-savory sauce does not resemble the cloying, sticky, bright red sauce that’s often served at Chinese restaurants. You can whip it up quickly to enjoy with snacks such as fried wontons. For spicy tropical flair, use unsweetened pineapple juice instead of water and include 2 teaspoons of minced ginger and a chopped Thai chile with the other seasoning at the beginning.

Used in Chinese, Japanese, and Southeast Asian cooking, chile oil is easy to prepare at home, and it’s infinitely better than store-bought. Its intense heat enlivens many foods, especially dumplings, which benefit when chile oil is part of the dipping sauce or used as a garnish. Some cooks add aromatics, such as ginger, star anise, and Sichuan peppercorns, to the oil, but I like to keep the chile flavor pure. While you may use other cooking oils, such as canola oil, my preference is for the kind of peanut oil often sold at Chinese markets, which is cold pressed and filled with the aroma of roasted peanuts. It is texturally light, has a high smoking point, and offers a wonderful nuttiness that pairs well with the intense chile heat. Lion & Globe peanut oil from Hong Kong is terrific. Use just the infused oil or include the chile flakes for an extra brow-wiping experience.

When you present dumplings with this sauce, the combination may recall an Italian pasta dish, but the sauce’s zesty qualities resemble the Latin flavors of Mexico more than of Europe. But on closer analysis, the combination of chile, ginger, herbs, and spices is definitely Asian, specifically Nepal’s Himalayan cuisine, which blends Chinese, Indian, and Tibetan traditions. In the Nepalese repertoire, this sauce is a type of achar (a moniker for chutneys and pickles) and is what typically accompanies momo; it’s great with Tibetan momo, too. With a tangy edge, moderate heat, and spiced depth, the sauce has a multilayered punch that begins seemingly subtle but finishes with a certain feistiness. Sometimes ground toasted sesame seeds are added for richness, but I find that they mute the other flavors too much.

This ubiquitous Asian condiment does not need to be purchased. In fact, it has a wonderful, bright flavor when made at home. In the late summer, when chiles are at their peak red color and spicy-fruity flavor, I buy a bunch at the farmers’ market and make a batch or two of this sauce. Keep the sauce uncooked if you enjoy a wild, robust flavor. Or, cook the sauce for a more mellow finish. I often blend different kinds of chiles so as to not create too much of a burn.

If you enjoy rice pudding, you’ll love these Thai packets of soft sticky rice flavored by coconut cream. Steaming in banana leaves lends an alluring fragrance to the rich rice, which encases soft banana and cooked black beans. The beans offer interesting texture and color contrast in these popular street snacks. According to legend, kao tom padt (also called kao tom madt) was all that some religious pilgrims had on their journey to visit the Lord Buddha. They presented their precious food to the Lord Buddha upon arriving, and that gesture continues today as these packets are still an offering at religious ceremonies. Thai cooks typically make these packets in large quantities and thus soak and boil a fair amount of black beans. For small homemade batches, canned black beans, drained and rinsed of their canning liquid, work fine. Omit the beans for nom n’sahm chaek, a Cambodian New Year must-have. You can also grill the steamed packets and serve them with the Coconut Dessert Sauce (page 221).

There are many ways to tweak a dipping sauce for Korean mandu (pages 44 and 46). The base is on the light side and great on its own, but you can add a variety of extras for more complexity and body.

Great on their own, Chinese jiaozi get a fantastic flavor boost when dipped in a zippy sauce like this one. The tart-salty-spicy combination adds a complex edge to the dumplings. There’s no such thing as a definitive dipping sauce, since cooks and diners mix up their own according to personal taste. At the least, your sauce should be tangy and savory. But add some nutty, hot chile oil, and your eating experience will enter a different orbit. Chinese dumplings are wonderful with an extra kick of ginger or garlic in the sauce, too. I prepare the sauce in advance, but you can set out the ingredients and invite guests to do it themselves.

A favorite Indian snack, batata vada are thinly coated by a batter made with garbanzo bean flour, which fries up crisp and then settles into a delicate chewiness. Inside, the cheery yellow potato filling (colored by turmeric) speckled by mustard seed bursts with flavor from chile, ginger, lime juice, and fresh herbs. Each one is a small eating adventure in trying to parse the individual elements while enjoying the synergistic whole. You can make the experience more fun with plops of chutney. Called bondas in Southern India and batata vada in Northern India, these dumplings are beloved all over the country. In Bombay, they are shaped as patties and served in a bun as a hamburger-like sandwich called vada pao. Garbanzo bean flour (called bésan in Hindi) is available at Indian grocery stores and health food markets. It has numerous uses in Indian cuisine, as a thickener as well as in batters for fried snacks.

These flavorful little fried dumplings and the spiced potato balls on page 183 are members of the vada family of Indian snacks. They vary in size and shape, with some resembling doughnuts, but they often feature a thick batter of ground legumes and are deep-fried to yield chewy-crisp skins. Whereas potato batata vada is coated with a batter made from garbanzo bean flour, this preparation is all about the nutty richness of mung beans. Moong dal vada are easy to prepare and really quite approachable; yellow split hulled mung beans are sold at Asian markets as well as health food stores. Get the beans soaking (I have had them sit for 16 hours) and the rest comes together quickly with the help of a food processor. These dumplings are best hot from the oil, but they are not bad reheated, either.

Versatile rice sheets are an integral part of many Asian cuisines; they can be cut into fresh noodles, dried into rice papers or crackers, and used as delicate wrappers for filled treats. Called ho fun in Cantonese, the sheets are nothing but big noodles made from silky batters of mostly rice and water. Many Asian cooks purchase opaque rice sheets, but for the purposes of dumpling making, it is best to prepare them yourself, as this guarantees freshness and a terrific toothsome texture. You need just a few for an abundance of tasty shrimp- or beef-filled rolls like the ones found at dim sum parlors. The sheets can be cooked and filled hours in advance of serving. A quick steaming is all they need right before serving. I have tried soaking and grinding raw rice for this batter but have never been as satisfied with the results as when I use rice flour from Thailand. The flour is both consistent and convenient. Look for it at Asian markets in plastic bags, typically with red lettering. Adding cornstarch and tapioca starch to the batter contributes to the sheets’ resilience and slight translucence. When starting out, make a double batch of batter so you can get plenty of practice.

Many Chiu Chow people migrated from mainland China to Southeast Asia, particularly to the Malay Peninsula. That is why you will find Chiu Chow dumplings among the hawker street food offerings in places like Penang. Along with the regular version in the preceding recipe, there is usually a vegetarian option. Chai kuih (literally “vegetable cake”) can be flavored with dried shrimp and oyster sauce, or it can be totally vegetarian. I have presented the latter, though you can certainly add the other seasonings if you wish. The mushroom soaking liquid adds savory depth to this jewel-like filling, so remember to save it after rehydrating the shiitakes.

This malleable, snowy white dough is the foundation for many Cantonese dim sum favorites, such as Chiu Chow Dumplings (page 137) and Har Gow Shrimp Dumplings (page 135). Wheat starch dough is easy to manipulate; texturally, it is like Play-Doh. In fact, I’ve seen rabbit-shaped dumplings made from this type of dough. You can definitely sculpt it, though I mostly focus on making sure the filling is sealed up well. When cooked, this dough has a translucency that allows the filling colors to be visible in a beautiful, impressionistic way. Wheat starch on its own would make a dough that is too firm, so dim sum cooks commonly add elasticity by way of tapioca starch, though cornstarch and potato starch are options, too. The oil lends suppleness and richness. This dough can be prepared up to 6 hours in advance and kept at room temperature in the plastic bag. When forming wrappers from this dough, do your best to keep the cut dough and formed wrappers covered with plastic wrap to prevent drying. At Chinese markets, look for plastic bags of wheat starch near other starches and flours; Middle Eastern markets sometimes carry it, too. Tapioca starch is reasonably priced at Chinese and Southeast Asian markets but is also available at health food stores, specialty grocers, and some supermarkets.

Many rich, filled Asian pastries, such as Indian samosas (page 115) and Vietnamese bánh quai vac chiên (page 118), employ straightforward dough made of wheat flour, fat, and water. Some cooks use oil for richness, but vegetable shortening creates a wonderful crispness. Pastries made with this dough are not blistery, but rather smooth and undulating with delicate puffy bubbles. Though you can make the dough by machine, the quantity of ingredients involved doesn’t justify the cleanup. I actually prefer the simplicity of preparing dough by hand because it is quick and fun. Rather than cutting the shortening into the flour, you rub the ingredients together to evenly coat the flour—a method referred to as moyan dena by Indian cooks. Despite this being a flaky pastry, the dough is kneaded to develop gluten so that it can hold up well during frying. A bit of leaven ensures a light texture. The resulting dough is strong, yet flaky and crisp.

Bite into a freshly fried samosa, and you’ll realize that the quintessential Indian snack is no simple food. When made well, the crisp shell is delicately rich and flaky. The filling inside varies, but a tangy potato mixture is the most common. Many believe that samosas arrived in India via the ancient trade routes that linked West Asia with Central Asia and South Asia. In fact, related pastries are called sanbusak in the Middle East and samsa in Central Asia. Samosas are fabulous alone or with a dab of mint and/or tamarind chutney. Add some chai tea, and you have a perfect snack. Or serve them with a salad for a great lunch. Many cooks use russet (baking) potatoes, but I prefer Yukon Golds for their flavor and cheery yellow color. Choose potatoes of the same size to ensure that they’re done at the same time.

When you buy stuffed buns in Asia, there is usually a vegetarian option that features vegetables and pressed tofu. The fragrant, tasty filling is delightful and satisfying enough to please meat lovers. While you can feature just one vegetable, such as a leafy green, I like to create a varied filling that’s full of surprising textures and flavors. It’s important to cut the vegetables and pressed tofu into small, thin pieces so that the cooked filling is easy to measure and wrap up in the dough.

Baked buns, called guk bau in Cantonese, are a wonderful southern Chinese creation. They can be filled with a whole host of things, including sweet bean pastes and savory preserved pork shreds. Some have a crumbly crust that’s akin to coffee cake topping. My favorite renditions are slightly shiny and sticky from having been brushed with a lightly sweet honey glaze. Whatever the filling inside, whether it is spicy chicken curry, roast pork, vegetables, or bean pastes, you can’t lose. Commercially produced Chinese baked buns are nearly cloying and super soft, whereas these have a delicate flavor and texture resembling that of challah.

There are several methods for making Chinese yeast dough, some of which employ starters and leavening, such as lye water and ammonium carbonate. This dough uses ingredients available at regular American supermarkets, and the results match the best I’ve experienced in China. Many Asian cooks employ—to great success—a cakey, snowy-white Cantonese style dough made from low-gluten cake flour or from a quickie flour and baking powder blend. This dough is different; it has more depth, and its loft and resilience comes from combining yeast and baking powder; fast-rising yeast works like a champ. All-purpose flour with a moderate amount of gluten, such as Gold Medal brand widely available at supermarkets, is what I prefer for this dough. Use bleached flour for a slightly lighter and brighter finish.

Most American diners are familiar with the Cantonese spring roll skins made with an egg and flour pastalike skin, but there’s another kind from Shanghai that is made without eggs and is cooked before it is stuffed and rolled. The resulting rolls are skinnier and fry up a little crisper than their Cantonese counterparts. Shanghai spring roll skins can also be used, unfried, like a soft flour tortilla for popiah handrolls, a favorite food in Fujian, Chaozhou, Taiwan, Singapore, and Malaysia. In the Thai repertoire, popiah tod refers to fried spring rolls. Asian cooks have also used these skins for Vietnamese cha giò rolls and Burmese samosas. Excellent commercial Shanghai spring roll skins are available at Chinese and Southeast Asian markets, and I didn’t know if making them at home would be worth the trouble. They’re a bit tricky to prepare, but once you understand and get the hang of the unusually sticky, elastic dough, the process becomes addictively fun as you aim for perfect round skins. I rarely achieve it, but the skins fry up beautifully every time. A moderate-gluten flour, such as all-purpose Gold Medal brand, works extremely well. If you are a first-timer, visit Asiandumplingtips.com to watch the video demonstration and to observe the unique cooking process; double the recipe to ensure plenty of extra dough for practice.