Alright, so I had this serious itch for some fried dim sum the other day. You know how it is, sometimes a craving just hits you and you gotta do something about it. Wasn’t feeling like going out, so I figured, why not try making ’em myself? It’s been a while.
First up, the filling. This is where the magic starts, or where it can all go wrong if you’re not careful. I went with a pretty classic mix: ground pork, some finely chopped shrimp – because why not, a bit of minced cabbage for crunch, some ginger, garlic, a splash of soy sauce, sesame oil, and a pinch of white pepper. Nothing too wild. I just dumped it all in a bowl and got my hands dirty. Seriously, for mixing filling, your hands are the best tools. You can really feel when it comes together.
Then came the wrappers. Now, I’m not about to make those from scratch on a weeknight, no sir. Store-bought ones work just fine for me. The round ones, gyoza style. The trick is not to overfill them. I learned that lesson the hard way a long time ago – exploding dumplings in hot oil? Not fun. A small spoonful in the center, wet the edges with a bit of water, fold ’em over, and try to make some pleats. Mine never look like the ones in restaurants, a bit rustic, you could say. But hey, as long as they seal, that’s what matters.
Okay, so I had a whole platoon of these little guys lined up on a floured tray. Looked pretty good, if I do say so myself. Then, the main event: frying. This is where you gotta pay attention. I got my trusty wok out – a flat-bottomed pan works too, but I like my wok. Poured in some neutral oil, maybe an inch deep. You don’t need to deep-fry them like crazy. Medium heat is key. Too hot, and the outside burns before the inside cooks. Too low, and they soak up oil and get greasy. Nobody wants a greasy dumpling.
I waited till the oil was shimmering a bit. You can test it with a wooden chopstick; if bubbles form around it, you’re good to go. Placed the dim sum in, making sure not to crowd the pan. That’s another biggie. Give ’em space. Let them get golden brown on one side, took about 2-3 minutes, then flipped ’em carefully. Cooked the other side till it matched. They puff up a little, get all crispy. That sizzle is just the best sound.
Once they were looking all golden and delicious, I fished them out with a slotted spoon and put them on a wire rack lined with paper towels to drain any excess oil. Using a wire rack helps keep the bottoms crispy. If you just pile them on a plate, they steam themselves and get soggy. Another lesson learned over time.
And that was pretty much it. Served ’em up hot with a simple dipping sauce – just some soy sauce, rice vinegar, and a tiny bit of chili oil. They weren’t the prettiest dim sum ever made, but man, they were tasty. Crispy on the outside, juicy on the inside. Hit the spot, for sure. Making stuff like this at home, it just tastes better sometimes, you know? Plus, you get the satisfaction of having made it yourself. Totally worth the effort.