Chive Dumplings (Ku Chai Kueh)
Food doesn’t always mean something to all of us, all the time.
Chefs and writers—myself included— have a tendency to romanticise the idea that each meal, each mouthful, each flavour of food would trigger a particular insight, memory, or a primal Pavlovian response in the eater. But sometimes, food is just food. I mean, after a long day at work, you don’t want the dumplings you’re pan-frying cold out of the freezer to bring forth the spirit of your Chinese great-grandmother, furrowing her brows at you, rattling off chengyus or Confucian quotes about how making and pleating your own dumplings from scratch always tastes better than quick, ready-made ones.
So food isn’t always about nostalgic memories or cognitive triggers. Sometimes, food is just a way to survive, a means to satiate our temporary hunger, just something we stuff ourselves with. And that, for me, was chive dumplings.
For the uninitiated, these are translucent, slightly chewy dumplings made of tapioca flour, filled with a mixture of Chinese chives, garlic, and often dried shrimp. I have no particularly poignant memory of eating chive dumplings, or of pleating it together with my relatives like that scene from Crazy Rich Asians, or of being handed down a family recipe for a special chive dumpling filling my grandmother uses, and being struck with a culinary epiphany. To me, these dumplings were just one of those rarely seen items, a dumpling that’s fading from the dim sum pop culture.
But my mom have built up many associations with it over the years. It’s one of her favourite dumplings, something she’d get each time she spies it on a passing dim sum cart, a dumpling she’d rave about when her relatives make it for her when we go back to her hometown, a dumpling so loved that she’s started growing her own Chinese chives in our backyard.
So pleating this with my mom on a Sunday afternoon, hearing her tutting adoringly at my dumpling folding skills (or lack thereof), a new connection was made, a new memory formed. And now, chive dumplings mean something to me, and will continue to mean something to me. All of me, each and every time I have it.
Chive Dumplings
makes 20-25 dumplings
Ingredients
Dough
150g tapioca starch
150g wheat starch
3g (½ teaspoon) salt
350ml boiling water
30ml (2 tablespoon) vegetable oil, or any other neutral oil
Filling
15 ml (1 tablespoon) vegetable oil, or any other neutral oil
5 cloves garlic, minced
30g dried shrimp, roughly minced
~250g Chinese chives, chopped into 0.5cm (0.2 inches), square-ish pieces
3g (½ teaspoon) salt
1g (1/8 teaspoon) ground white pepper
Directions
In a large mixer bowl, sift the tapioca starch, wheat starch, and salt together. Then, pour the boiling water into the flour mixture, and mix it in the mixer on medium speed with a dough hook attachment for 30 seconds, or until the dough comes together into a shaggy mass. (You can do this manually with a spatula.) It’s perfectly normal for it to be lumpy. Then, leave the dough to cool down and properly hydrate for 10 minutes.
After the 10-minute rest, add the vegetable oil to the dough, and knead it in the mixer on low speed for 6-8 minutes, until the dough becomes smooth and elastic. (Again, this is totally doable by hand!) Let the dough rest and cool down for 30 minutes.
As the dough is resting, let’s prep the filling! Pour the vegetable oil into a large pan or wok, and place it over a medium flame. When the oil is hot and shimmery, fry the minced garlic and dried shrimp until the garlic is golden brown and crispy. (Careful not to let it burn!) Then, take it off the flame and immediately add in the chopped chives, stirring and tossing it around to wilt the chives slightly while the wok is still hot. Then, season it with salt and pepper, mix thoroughly, and give it a little taste, adjusting the seasoning as needed.
When both the dough and filling are done, we’re ready to wrap! Divide the dough into 28g balls, and roll them out with a small rolling pin (or a wine bottle works too) into a circle 10cm (4 inches) across. Then, add a tablespoon of the chive filling onto the dough, and wrap it up with a pleating motion. (It’s a little tricky to describe in words, so here’s a visual tutorial for it. Orrr you could always just wrap it up in whatever fashion you like and call it modern art.) When you’re done with each dumpling, place it on a well-oiled tray so it doesn’t stick.
When you’re almost done wrapping all your dumplings, ready a steamer set-up (this can be done in a wok, or a pot-steamer), and bring up the water to a rolling boil. Then, arrange the chive dumplings in a steamer basket or well-oiled metal rack, and steam it for 8 minutes. The dumpling skin will turn chewy and translucent, and you’ll be able to see the verdant green filling inside!
They’re best served and eaten warm! Though if you’re saving it for later, they keep well for 2-3 days in the fridge; just steam them for 3 minutes before eating.