Fragrant lily dumplings

Eating my first potsticker belongs on the list of life experiences that I’ll never forget. It happened at the Oriental Garden Chinese restaurant in my hometown. They were labeled Peking ravioli, and I had a good feeling about them from the start, all plump and golden brown. I found them to be filled with an intoxicating mix of pork, ginger and green onion, and I was transformed. The restaurant’s all-you-can-eat buffet offered a full range of classic Chinese delicacies. But after my first taste of Peking ravioli, those succulent dumplings were all I desired. I returned many times with friends, and my companions and I would feast on those exotic morsels like Greek warriors upon fat oxen.

Years later, as an old man surveying his springtime garden for signs of life, I noted a clump of chives growing densely by a fence post. Then, I spotted the green glint of Egyptian walking onions, partially buried by the remains of a dried tomato bush. Finally, I saw the red-hued green of my tall and rotund garlic shoots. These were the only living bits of green in the garden. All are members of the allium family, also known as the lily family, which also includes shallots, onions, garlic and chives. Some people call it the onion family. Some people call the edible members of the allium family the “fragrant lilies.”

I recalled that old expression, “He knows his onions,” which means that someone has in-depth knowledge of a particular subject. In my case, the subject was onions themselves, and thus, I know my onions about onions. I felt it was time to write a column about the onions I know so much about, but I couldn’t decide upon which facet of the onion-verse I would write about.  

Hours later, my son Remy walked in the door, home from school, and announced that he wanted to make potstickers. And just like that, I had my onion topic. You can’t have a potsticker without some kind of allium inside. I may not know potstickers as well as I know my onions, but I know that much.

Remy is the kind of cook who, if you say, “Let’s make spaghetti,” will dump some flour on the counter, make a well in the middle for some eggs and whip out a batch of fresh pasta dough to run through the pasta cutting machine. So, when he said he wanted to make potstickers, I knew he didn’t mean from a bag in the freezer.

We took inventory of our ingredients, noting that in addition to our many onions, we also had ginger, soy sauce, sesame oil, sugar and even powdered white pepper, which really helps when you want that Oriental flavor turned up to 11. For the meat, we decided to use ground elk mixed with pork fat, both of which we had on hand.

Ultimately, only one ingredient was missing: wrappers in which to enclose the filling. I resigned myself to head to the supermarket for a pack of wonton wrappers, but Remy had no plans to wait for a trip to the store. Instead, he rolled up his sleeves, dumped some flour on the counter and began kneading some dough. In a few minutes, he had it rolled out. It was a bit on the thick side, but it made glorious, uniquely puffy potstickers.

For you normies who don’t have an in-house dough maker on call, I recommend those store-bought wonton wrappers. And if you don’t have a meat grinder, pre-ground burger works just fine.

As you search or shop for your green onions, whether in the backyard, farmers market or grocery store, keep your eyes peeled for garlic chives, the queen of the fragrant lilies. They’re easily identified by their flat, garlic-like leaves, as opposed to the round and hollow leaves of onions and normal chives. Finding garlic chives can be a bit of an effort, but your dumplings — or at least your dumpling eaters — will thank you. But as long as there’s a hint of allium green in your potstickers, they’ll do what they’re supposed to do in your mouth.

Ingredients

2 pounds ground meat, ideally

pork, mixed with shrimp or beef

1 tablespoon minced ginger

1/4 cup minced shallot or onion

Four minced green onions or a

handful of chopped chives, garlic

tops or garlic chives

1/2 teaspoon toasted sesame oil

Two minced napa cabbage leaves

1 tablespoon soy sauce

1 tablespoon sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

A pinch of white pepper

A package of wonton wrappers

Thoroughly mix all of the ingredients, save the wrappers, in a large bowl. Let the mixture sit for at least 30 minutes.

While it marinates, there’s a little operation to do with the wrappers. They come out of the package square, but you want them round for potstickers. So, find a glass with a diameter close to the length to the length of the side of the wrapper. Press the glass down to cut a circle and peel away the corners on the outside of the glass.

Spoon a teaspoon of filling into the center of each wrapper. Dip your fingers in a glass of water and rub your wet fingers on the perimeter of the wrapper. Then fold it over the filling and press down on the edges. Pan fry or steam your dumplings how you like them.