There’s this now famous scene about halfway into the box-office phenomenon that is Crazy Rich Asians (2018) where the obscenely wealthy Young family gather around an ornate dining room table of their matriarch’s impressively vast estate to make dumplings, decked out in stylish designer clothes. The scene is set up so that the elder members, the aunties, holding court on one side of the table, preparing the dumpling wrappers and carefully shaping the filling into perfect quenelles, while the male cousins, seated on the other side, simply fill the dumplings.

Their conversation is deceptively casual, full of playful banter. Oliver, the self-described “rainbow sheep of the family” bitchily teases his aunt about favoring “afternoon microdermabrasion” over meeting her daughter Astrid after school with fresh dumplings like her supermom sister-in-law Eleanor.

The newbie (or as Eleanor perceives the interloper) Rachel, an only child of a single mother, expresses genuine envy for their close familial bond, admiring the tradition that this ritual of making dumplings together ostensibly represents. Her innocent remarks, however, quickly leads to a thinly-veiled dress down by her boyfriend’s mother Eleanor, for whom this ritual holds far greater meaning. Every step of the process requires skill and precision, learned and practiced over many years, something Rachel obviously lacks. Furthermore, Rachel’s choice to carve her own career path, no matter how seemingly impressive on paper, is viewed as singular and selfish.

Eleanor’s message to Rachel is loud and clear–you prize individuality over family, you don’t have what it takes (i.e. willingness to sacrifice and work for the greater good of the family) to be a member.

That scene always reminds me of my own family dumpling making tradition. No, it was not quite so emotionally loaded with subtext and drama. Yes, there was definitely division of labor and hierarchy in which the elders–namely my grandmother and mother–held the lead positions, mixing and kneading the all-important dough, and preparing the filing. The rest of us simply filled and formed the dumplings. It took me a good 6 years from the time I was little girl until I was a pre-adolescent, to earn a coveted spot on the dumpling team. I’d honed my skills practicing with homemade play doh, perfecting my “crimp” with dough discards, until one day my grandmother deemed me worthy and rewarded me with a seat at the table. After a couple of rounds, I got so good and fast at filling and crimping no one could differentiate between my handiwork and that of my grandma or mom.

Making gok zai or fung guao (wheat starch wrapper dumplings) was a big deal, an event that only happened maybe twice a year at the most, mainly because it involved a fair amount of production and coordination between family members–we’re talking at least 15 people. How many pieces would each member eat? How many batches of dough and filling would have to be made? When was everyone coming to eat or pick up their share? How much jook or congee would have to be made to go with dumplings? Unlike the crazy rich Young clan in the movie, we didn’t have an army of servants and cooks to prep the components for us to use.

Rules were established (by grandma) about the right way and wrong to make dumplings. You had to commit to the process. One year, my aunt Christina suggested we try speeding things up by using a stand mixer to make the wheat starch dough. After one test batch, grandma nixed that idea. The reason? You really have to feel the dough in order to know when it’s ready. There is a particular tell-tale sign–the dough makes popping sounds when it’s done–you can only hear when you’re kneading the dough by hand. You can’t hear it with a stand mixer motor running. While there is something to be said about not sticking your hands into blazing hot dough–boiling hot water is crucial to gelatinizing the starches–sometimes you just have to suck it up and stick with tradition.

One shortcut that did receive grandma’s seal of approval was the use of a tortilla press to flatten out the dough balls into perfectly uniform paper thin disks. Not sure how my dad came up with this hack–maybe he saw it on one of the popular cooking shows on PBS he loved to watch–but it stuck. In fact, dad was the only male member of the dumpling team, tasked with manning the tortilla press.

I miss those days, not just because I love eating the gok zai, but for the communal aspect of the dumpling making process. My grandma, dad, and aunt have long passed. My mom is no longer up to the task of spear heading such a laborious group project, much less decipher the “family recipe” notes. This leaves me the only one left, it seems, who remembers the process. And so, no stroll down dim sum memory lane would be complete without revisiting my family’s Gok Zai recipe and delving into the magic of the wheat starch wrapper.

What differentiates a wheat starch wrapper from other types of Chinese dumpling wrappers, is its characteristic translucence once steamed and its toothsome bite. A well-made wheat starch wrapper should possess enough structural integrity to be rolled out super thin, yielding a delicate “crystalline” appearance and ever so slight chewy texture.

Many dim sum chefs favor a 1:1 ratio of wheat starch to tapioca starch, but I’ve discovered that ratio produces a wrapper with way too much chew for my liking. Having tried various combinations and ratio of starches–from 2 parts wheat to 1 part corn and 1 part potato (respectable dough though with a slightly chewy dumpling skin), to 2 parts wheat to 1 part tapioca and 1 part corn (way too chewy)–I finally settled on a 3:1 ratio of wheat to potato, which yielded a supple, pliable, incredibly easy to handle dough that I was able to press very thin, producing a dumpling skin which had just the right balance of tenderness and bite, something my grandma would describe as being “zhong.”

The key to mixing a wheat starch dough, as I mentioned earlier, is incorporating boiling hot water to gelatinize the starches, thereby partially cooking and setting the dough. Contrary to what some YouTube instructional videos tell you, I’m hear to say do not trickle in the hot water gradually. It cools the water down too much and the starches won’t gelatinize. I mistakenly tried that once and ended up with a gloopy dough that never properly set up, no matter how much I kneaded it.

Pour the water in 2-3 additions but stir quickly and vigorously to incorporate all the dry and wet ingredients. Once you’ve got a shaggy mass, quickly cover it with plastic wrap and/or some kind of lid so the dough can steam for 5-10 mins. After that, uncover the dough, add the vegetable oil, and knead it until very smooth and pliable. I like to start kneading it in the bowl for about a minute just to bring clumpy dough together a bit before kneading it on a surface.

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Grandma used to just do it all in a huge bowl, but that’s because she was making a big batch. Being diminutive, it was easier to her set the bowl lower to give herself more leverage. In any case, you want to work the dough to the point where it starts to make slight popping and squeaking sounds. According to grandma that’s how you know it will be zhong. Cover the dough once again and let it rest for another 10 mins. before rolling.

Depending on what type of dumpling you’re making–gok zai or the ever-popular har gow (shrimp dumpling)–and desired size, you’ll get between 20-24 portions of dough. Roll the rested dough out into a long thick rope, divide it up evenly into 4 smaller logs, then each log into 5-6 pieces. Roll each piece into a ball and keep them well-covered under plastic wrap or a damp towel as you form each dumpling. A word of warning, this dough does not keep well, so don’t try saving unused portions in the fridge. You’re better off making smaller batches as you go along…or recruit more hands to help you form the dumplings.

Now you may ask, “do I really need to buy a tortilla press?” Of course not. But is it worth getting one, absolutely–especially if you can find an inexpensive one, like the tortilla press I bought on sale at Ross–which incidentally sat in its box unopened for years…until now. If nothing else you can use the tortilla press for all sort of things, not including wheat starch wrappers and tortillas. To form the wheat starch wrapper, simply oil the plastic sheet (mine came with the press) lightly, flatten the ball halfway, then place it in between 2 layers of plastic and press thin. Note, one edge of the disk will be slightly thinner, which is perfect for pleating the dough when forming har gow.

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Since mom’s recipe notes for the gok zai filling consisted of a general ingredients list I had to come up with my own recipe from memory. It’s essentially the same ingredients as in the hom suey gok, but with the addition of diced fresh shrimp and bamboo shoots.

Har gow filling is even more straightforward, just 2 main ingredients–fresh shrimp and bamboo shoots. Purist would argue that we’re missing pork fat, which imparts great flavor. I didn’t feel like buying a hunk of port fat to use only about 1 tablespoon, so I decided to forgo it, and honestly, mom didn’t notice. What is critical for making a good har gow filling is presaaking the shrimp in cold salted water for at least 20-30 mins., then rinsing thoroughly in cold water. This step ensures that the shrimp will be plump and juicy.

Central to Chinese cooking, is the balance of contrasting textures and flavors. In the gok zai filling it’s the harmony between the meaty protein element of the pork and shrimp with the umami of the shiitakes and bright vegetal elements of the bamboo shoots and scallion. In the har gow, it’s a play between the finely minced shrimp, chopped bamboo shoots, and the small chunks of shrimp.

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To form the gok zai I placed a spoonful of filling slightly off center, folded over the top half of the wrapper, then pinched together the edges, thinning it out so I could make the signature crimp between the outside edges of my thumb and forefinger.

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For the har gow, I positioned the shrimp filling off center towards the slightly thicker-edged bottom half of the wrapper, pinched together one corner, then methodically pleated the top edge together towards the other corner, pinched the plain bottom edge against the pleats to seal, and trimmed off any excess dough with my handy kitchen scissors.

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To cook both types of dumplings, I spaced them out on a single layer of a parchment-lined steamer basket and steamed on high heat for about 6 mins.

My adventures with wheat starch wrapper dumplings made me appreciate just how special and meaningful those family dumpling days of the past truly were. They were about working as a unit, commitment to the process, upholding traditions, and bringing together the family to share in something made with love. And maybe one day, hopefully in the not too distant future when we won’t have to social distance, I can revive some of this tradition and pass on my gok zai making knowledge to the next generation.

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Having tried several different wheat starch dough recipes, this is the one that worked the best for me. I found it on chinasichuan.com. If you don’t have potato starch, you can substitute corn starch.

Wheat Starch Wrapper Dough

Yield: 20-24 portions

• 120 g (about 1 c.) wheat starch
• 40 g (about 1/3 c.) potato starch
• 160-170 ml* boiling hot water
• 1/2 t. sea salt
• 20 ml (or 2 t.) vegetable oil

1. Mix together the starches and salt in a medium bowl with chopsticks or a wooden spoon. Create a well in the center.
2. Pour in the hot water in 2 or 3 additions while quickly stirring, holding back about 1 tablespoon* just case the dough it too dry.
3. Mix vigorously until the everything turns into a shaggy mass, adding the reserved water if needed. Cover the dough with plastic wrap and/or lid to steam dough for 5-10 mins.
4. Remove the covering, add oil, and knead dough for a minute to bring it together, then tip it onto a surface and knead for another 3 mins. or until the dough is very smooth and pliable (almost bouncy). You should be able to hear a slight popping or squeaking sound as you knead the dough.
5. Drizzle a little oil into the bowl and transfer the dough back in. Cover and let the dough rest for about 10 mins. before using.

Gok Zai Filling

Yield: about 24 dumplings

• 2 t. light soy sauce
• 2 t. rice wine or dry sherry
• 1/2 t. sugar
• 2 t. grated fresh peeled ginger
• 2 t. oyster sauce
• 1/8 t. ground white pepper
• 4 oz. ground pork
• 2 T. neutral cooking oil
• 4 oz. raw peeled & deveined shrimp, coarsely chopped
• 4 large fresh or rehydrated dried shiitake mushrooms, finely diced
• 1/4 c. finely chopped bamboo shoots
• 1 T. dried shrimp, rinsed, drained, finely chopped
• 1 large scallion, chopped
• 1 t. sesame oil
• 2 t. cornstarch mixed in 2 T. water or chicken broth

1. Marinate the pork in half of the soy, rice wine, sugar, ginger, oyster sauce, and white pepper for about 15 mins.
2. Heat 1 T. oil in a skillet or wok on medium high heat, add the pork and lightly brown, then add the shrimp and continue cooking for another minute; aside the pork and shrimp.
3. Heat the remaining oil and stir-fry the mushroom, dried shrimp, and bamboo shoots for about 1 min., then add the remaining half of the seasonings and continue stir-frying for another minute before adding back the pork and shrimp along with scallions and sesame oil.
4. Add the cornstarch slurry and cook for another 30 secs. to thicken everything up.
5. Cool the filling to room temperature before using.

Har Gow Filling

Yield: about 24 dumplings

• 8 oz. raw peeled & deveined shrimp
• 3 T. finely chopped bamboo shoots
• 1 1/4 t. sea salt
• 1 t. sugar
• 1 t. rice wine
• 1/4 t. light soy sauce
• pinch of white pepper
• 1 T. cornstarch

1. Place the shrimp in a bowl, sprinkle on 1 t. salt, then use your hand to lightly toss the shrimp to evenly coat in salt. Cover the shrimp with cold water and refrigerate for 20-30 mins.
2. Thoroughly rinse the shrimp in cold running water, then drain well in a strainer.
3. Divide the shrimp in half. Finely mince one half and chop the other half into 1/4″ chunks.
4. Mix the 2 shrimps together in bowl with the remaining ingredients, cover and refrigerate for 30 mins. before using.

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