So, I found myself signing up for a dim sum workshop the other day. Don’t ask me why. Just felt like it, needed to get my hands dirty with something different. I’m no chef, not by a long shot, but figured I’d give it a whirl. What’s the worst that could happen, right?
Getting Started
Walked into this place, and they had all the stations set up. Little bowls of minced pork, shrimp, chopped veggies, and big bags of flour. Lots of flour. The instructor leading this whole thing seemed like they’d made a dumpling or two in their time. Started showing us the basics. Looked dead simple when they did it, naturally. Always does.
We got our aprons on. I knew then things were gonna get messy. They gave us a rundown of what we’d be attempting to create. Sounded ambitious for a bunch of newbies, if you ask me.
The Actual Making – Or Trying To
First up, they threw us into making Har Gow – those shrimp dumplings with the see-through skin. That skin, man. That was the first hurdle. Supposed to be thin, elastic. Mine was either too thick or tore if you looked at it wrong. My first few attempts looked like sad, crumpled tissues. Seriously.
The instructor came by, probably took pity on me, and showed me the wrist flick thing again. Okay, a little better. Still not restaurant quality, not even close, but at least they vaguely resembled dumplings. Then came the pleating. Let’s just say “rustic” is a good word for how mine turned out.
Then we moved on to Siu Mai. You know, the open-topped pork and shrimp ones. These were a bit more forgiving, thankfully. Basically, you make a little cup with the wrapper and stuff it. My stuffing technique was… generous. Some of them looked like they were about to explode. I figured more filling equals more yum, right?
- Wrestled with the Har Gow wrappers for what felt like ages.
- Overstuffed at least half the Siu Mai. No regrets.
- Got flour on my face, in my hair, probably in my ears. It was everywhere.
- My folding skills for anything intricate were, let’s say, abstract.
There was a lot of laughing, mostly at our own creations. Some folks were surprisingly good. Others, well, they were in my boat.
Steaming and The Big Reveal
After a good while of fumbling and shaping, we loaded our precious, misshapen dim sum onto steamer trays. The instructor took them away to the big steamers. That was the moment of truth, or so I thought. The waiting part was a bit tense. You’re just standing there, thinking about all the ways your food could have gone wrong.
Then they brought them out. Steaming hot. They didn’t look half bad, all cooked up. Well, mine still looked very… distinctly homemade. You could definitely pick mine out of a lineup. No delicate, uniform shapes here. Nope.
The Taste Test and Final Thoughts
So, the best part. Eating. We all dug in. And you know what? They actually tasted pretty good! My lumpy Har Gow, even with the slightly thick skin on some, were delicious. The filling was spot on. The overstuffed Siu Mai? They were great. Juicy, flavorful. No complaints there.
So yeah, that was a few hours of my life. Didn’t exactly come out a dim sum sifu. Not even close. But I managed to make stuff with my own hands that, surprisingly, didn’t taste like disappointment. Learned one thing for sure: those chefs making hundreds of perfect little dumplings every day? Mad respect. It’s way harder than it looks. A lot harder. But hey, I made dim sum. And I ate it. That’s a success in my book.
