Judging from my previous post about Killing Eve, you might get the impression that our obsession (okay mostly Rina’s) with the series revolves primarily around the brilliantly maniacal Russian assassin Villanelle, played by the spectacularly gifted Jodie Comer. However, let me go on the record by declaring Sandra Oh, who plays the complicated, impulsive, and impassioned Eve Polastri, is my avatar, my hero. At a time when we’re still fighting for Asian representation in mainstream media, Sandra Oh is a role model for Asian female empowerment, both in front of and behind the camera (Oh is one of the show’s Executive Producers).

While you can credit Killing Eve’s stand-out writing for providing Oh material to flex her creative muscles, it is ultimately her undeniable talent and mastery of her craft that makes Eve Polastri the intriguing, fully-imaged, multi-dimensional character that she is. And this is also why it is such delicious joy to watch Oh as Eve go toe-to-toe with Comer’s Villanelle and the awe-inspiring Fiona Shaw’s Carolyn Martens. These two extraordinary actors, portraying polar opposite characters, afford Oh the opportunity to play against a broad spectrum of emotions, delivering performances rich with complexity, texture and nuance.

On the one end of the spectrum, there is Eve’s tinder box relationship with Villanelle, fueled by constant sexual tension interlaced with the push/pull of horror and fascination, love and death. As Eve admits in Season One, she can’t help obsessing over Villanelle’s every move, every thought, every emotion in the same way Villanelle obsesses over her. Yet by Season Three, Eve also understands that what she’s compulsively drawn to in Villanelle–her total lack of filter, the seduction of her narcissism, her vulnerability and brokenness–has the power to ultimately destroy Eve. The question for Eve is always whether she actually wants or can fully embrace everything Villanelle has to offer.

On the other end, Eve’s relationship with her on again/off again boss Carolyn, is a perpetual tug-of-war between impulse and restraint, transparency and subterfuge. While Villanelle pretty much says whatever’s on her mind, regardless of circumstance, Carolyn is a portrait of fierce stoicism, cloaked in dry sarcasm and biting cynicism. She wears her armor of sharply-cut coats with the knowing confidence of a seasoned career intelligence director, cooly smiling through her tight British upper lip, giving virtually nothing away, much to Eve’s frustration.

Whereas Eve often finds herself taken aback by Villanelle’s excessive oversharing and dramatic overtures, Eve’s compelled to chip away at Carolyn’s seemingly impenetrable wall, impulsively challenging Carolyn’s authority and questioning her tactics at every turn in hopes of getting more than a calculated response or brusque directive out of her. What Eve wants is emotional support, not a link to a website where she can order the pig’s placenta face cream Carolyn uses.

As this is essentially a culinary blog…with occasional detours into pop culture, movies, and television…I will loop this back to how food is often used as a catalyst–often the absence, rejection or denial of food–that drives narrative and defines character. For example, Carolyn’s dismissal of daughter Geraldine’s “wonky carrot stew” in favor of pork pie mirrors her rejection of Geraldine’s “touchy-feely” approach to life. Dasha’s brutal critique of Villanelle’s hideously lopsided cake is an extension of her critique of Villanelle’s inability to focus on getting the job done right.

With respect to Eve, much of who she is (and isn’t) can be seen through her relationship to food. Early in Season One, Eve’s half-hearted attempt at domesticity results in an abandoned roast chicken. At the beginning of Season Three we find Eve, traumatized by the events in Season Two, hiding out in the back kitchen of a Korean restaurant, having seemingly traded in death and destruction for the monotony and safety of making dumplings (mandu in Korean) and (ironically) butchering chicken, which is about the only kind of dismemberment Eve can handle.

On the surface Eve appears resigned to her new reality, blending in with the other Korean people in the ethnic enclave of New Malden, hiding in plain sight. Yet despite her ethnicity, Eve sticks out like sore thumb. She doesn’t eat the mandu (real Korean food) she spends countless hours making, but instead subsists on a diet of instant noodles, Korean junk food and wine she mindlessly loads into her shopping basket.

When Eve dives back into the intrigue and excitement of hunting down “The Twelve” she does so with the excitement of an adrenaline junky, hopped up on vending machine candy. Eve’s actions are often erratic, driven by her desire for justice, which invariably runs counter to Carolyn’s ostensibly more methodical, circumspect approach–choosing the civility of sandwiches on stakeouts over Eve’s steady diet of junk food. Not surprisingly, Eve appears more at home (literally camping out on the office sofa at one point) working with the fringe journalists at The Bitter Pill.

Despite her attempt to operate within Carolyn’s world, Eve is granted only limited access. She does not get to eat the fancy omelet nor have the proper meeting with biscuits–certainly not deserving of Hobnobs (that most British of biscuits)– because Eve’s ideas and methodology don’t conform to Carolyn’s notion of professionalism. Eve’s impulsive nature and rogue mentality won’t allow it. She’s simply not a Hobnob and cup of tea type of person–not British, the perpetual outsider. But being the outsider, the nonconformist, in the end, is what gives Eve the freedom to chose her own path, and what makes Sandra Oh such a compelling performer to watch.

So, in honor of Eve, I present my version of Pork & Kimchi Mandu and Chocolate-Dipped Hobnobs, two things Eve doesn’t eat, though the absence of which, nevertheless, defines who she is. I came up with this particular dumpling because the combination of pork and Korean fermented cabbage is not only delicious, but something Eve would probably never choose to eat. And the Hobnobs…well that goes without saying.

I used Andrea Nguyen’s recipe for Basic Dumpling Dough, but you can just substitute pre-made dumpling wrappers if you don’t feel like going through the trouble of making them from scratch. To speed things up and avoid having to handle super hot dough, I used a food processor to make it, though it can certain be made by hand.

Pork & Kimchi Mandu (Korean Dumplings)

Yield: about 32

Filling:

• 10 oz. ground pork (on the fattier side)
• 2 garlic cloves, finely minced
• 1 T. grated fresh ginger
• 1 large scallion, chopped
• 1/2 t. Korean chili powder
• 1 T. mirin
• 1 T. soy sauce
• 1 T. gochujang
• 2 t. sesame oil
• 1 t. sea salt
• 1 t. sugar
• 3/4 c. kimchi, drained & chopped
• 1 t. cornstarch

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• Combine all the ingredients in a medium bowl and mix thoroughly.
• Cover and refrigerate until ready to use.

Wrapper:

• 2 c. all-purpose flour
• 3/4 c. just boiled water

1. Place the flour into the bowl of your food processor.
2. With the machine running, gradually pour the hot water through the feeding tube.
3. Pulse at 3 second intervals until the dough comes together in a smooth ball. Don’t over-process.
4. Transfer the dough into a greased ziploc bag, seal it shut and let the dough rest for at least 20 mins. or up to 2 hours at room temperature.
5. To make the wrappers, portion out the dough evenly into 30-32 pieces, then roll them into balls. Keep the dough balls covered as you roll each wrapper and fill.
6. Roll each ball out to about 3″ in diameter, 1/16″ thickness on the out edged, 1/8″ towards the center.
7. Place a heaping tablespoon of filling off-center, then fold over and crimp or pleat the edges close. Start by pinching close the ends then work your way towards the center.
8. You can either pan-fry the mandu in a non-stick pan with some oil like potstickers (steaming them with a little water) or boil them until they float to the surface, or steam them.

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I adapted the following recipe from BA, adding some light brown sugar, changing out Lyle’s Golden Syrup (very British) for honey, adding some vanilla and butterscotch extracts, and a pinch of cinnamon for more depth of flavor.

Chocolate-Dipped Hobnobs

Yield: about 3 dozen

• 8 oz. (or 2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temp.
• 1/2 c. + 2 T. sugar
• 2 T. light brown sugar
• 2 t. Lyle’s Golden Syrup (or honey)
• 2 T. whole milk
• 1 1/2 t. sea salt
• 1/2 t. butterscotch extract
• 1 t. vanilla extract
• 1 1/2 c. all-purpose flour
• 1 1/2 c. old-fashion rolled oats
• pinch of ground cinnamon
• 6 oz. milk chocolate chips
• 3 oz. semi-sweet chocolate chips
• 2 t. coconut oil

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1. With an electric mixer, cream the butter, sugars, and Golden Syrup until light and fluffy. Beat in milk, salt, and extracts.
2. Combine the flour, oats, and cinnamon, then stir into the beaten butter mixture, just until well-incorporated.
3. Scoop approximately .75 oz or a rounded tablespoon of dough onto a parchment-lined sheet pan, leaving about 2″ between each ball of dough. Gently press down on each ball.
4. Bake in a preheated 300F degree oven for about 25-30 mins. until light golden and crispy.
5. Cool completely before dipping the flat bottom side into melted chocolate.
6. Combine the chocolate chips and coconut oil in a microwave safe bowl; heat at 30 second intervals on full power, stirring in between, until chocolate is about 80% melted. Remove from the microwave and continue stirring until chocolate is smooth and completely melted.
7. Place the dipped chocolate hobnobs in the freezer for about 5 mins. to set the chocolate.