How This All Started
So last Saturday morning, I’m scrolling through food vids like always, and bam – these shiny red dim sum buns pop up. Looked straight out of a cartoon. Got me thinking: “Bet I can make those ugly-delicious things myself.” Went down the rabbit hole watching grandma cooks fold dough for hours. Figured it couldn’t be that hard. Famous last words, right?
Gathering My Messy Supplies
Hit the Asian mart first thing Sunday. Flour? Check. Weird red food coloring paste? Check. That sweet red bean stuff in a can? Double check. My shopping cart looked like a kindergartener’s art project list:
- All-purpose flour bag
- Pack of dried yeast
- Can of red bean paste
- Tiny bottle of “rose red” gel coloring
Forgot baking powder. Had to sprint back halfway home. Classic me.
Disaster Zone: Dough Stage
Mixed flour, yeast, warm water… then squeezed half that red gel tube in. Looked like murder scene in my mixing bowl. Turned my mixer on low – flour went EVERYWHERE. Ceiling, cat, my hair – all pink. Dough felt like sticky bubblegum. Added flour handful by handful, kneading til my arms screamed. Finally got it smooth after 20 minutes of cussing. Slapped that red blob in a bowl, covered it, hoped for magic.
The Waiting Game & Bean Goop
While dough rose (took forever in my cold kitchen), I tackled the filling. Dumped that canned bean paste in a pan. Stirred and mashed til it thickened. Burnt my pinky tasting it – hot bean gloop hurts. Let it cool, then rolled little bean balls. Looked like muddy marbles. Dough finally doubled size – poked it and the dent stayed. Victory!
Shaping Chaos & Steaming Nightmares
Floured my counter, punched the dough down hard. Rolled it into a log, chopped uneven chunks. Rolled a chunk flat, plopped a bean ball in, tried to pinch it shut. First three looked like chewed bubblegum. Fourth one? Actually round! Got into rhythm after that – make ball, flatten, scoop, pinch, repeat. Had twenty lumpy red blobs sweating on parchment paper.
Water boiling in my wok, I balanced the bamboo steamer over it. Placed buns inside, covered with lid. Steam blasted out sideways like a dragon sneezing. Peeked after ten minutes – lid dripped water all over my buns. Craters everywhere. Groaned loud enough the neighbor probably heard.
Victory on the Second Try!
Round two: wrapped the steamer lid in a kitchen towel to catch the drips. Five new pink soldiers went in. This time? Lid stayed dry. Timer dinged, lifted the lid… and holy wow. Plump, shiny, deep red buns stared back. Brushed ’em with oil so they glowed. Couldn’t even wait – grabbed one scalding hot. Burnt my tongue. Zero regrets. Sweet bean oozed out, dough chewy perfect. Made my brother try one. Dude demolished eight straight. Kitchen’s a flour bomb site, but we got proper Hong Xing Dim Sum sitting greasy and glorious on my counter.