Long before the foodie world’s love affair with soup dumplings dominated the restaurant scene, there was wonton soup–the OG of Chinese fast casual fare. It was the standard quick lunch for many a worker, along with the assorted meat and rice plate–roast duck, bbq pork, soy sauce chicken, crackling skin roast pork, take your pick. These days there are probably more dumpling joints than wonton houses, but here in San Francisco you’ll still find plenty of small family-run places dotted throughout practically every neighborhood in the city. There is literally no excuse for a bowl of inferior wonton soup…if you know what to look for.

First rule, don’t order wonton soup at just any Chinese restaurant. Wonton soup is as ubiquitous a menu item (along with sweet and sour pork) at most Chinese restaurants as fries are at a diner. It’s obligatory to have it on the menu. That said, if there’s only one listed on the menu, chances are it’s probably not very good. I’m sorry if what you got were six fat thick-skinned wontons with coarse lumpy filling floating around in some nondescript chicken broth and greens. You can do better…much better.

Like ramen, a good wonton soup (with or without noodles) is a specialty. requiring skill and artistry, deft of hand, to make each component, from the broth to the filing. Though even the best neighborhood wonton house more than likely uses a pre-made wrapper, it’s a quality wrapper–thin and pliable, designed to perfectly encase a tender, flavorful delicate filling. These small, jewel-like, glistening morsels, plump-full of shrimp and pork are sized precisely to offer up one sublime mouthful. If cooked well, the thin pasta skin glides along your tongue as you bite through to the filling, which has just enough spring, or what my grandmother would call zhong, to provide a textural contrast with the tender juiciness of the pork and shrimp.

As the family’s premier food connoisseur, my grandmother’s motto was know what you want to eat and choose your restaurant accordingly. If the best wonton noodle house in the city was a crowded, slightly grimy joint in Chinatown, then that’s where we were going…even if it took three Muni buses and two transfer points. This leads me to the second rule–enjoy the wonton soup in person. Yes, I know that has been a challenge this past year given all the social distancing restrictions. I’ve ordered wonton noodle soup to go from a neighborhood place close by several times out of laziness and desperation. But as with fries, time is the enemy with wonton soup, no matter how hard they try to keep the wontons and soup separate to avoid damaging the integrity of the wonton skin. Even if I’m there the moment my order is ready to pick up, by the time I get it home less than 2 mins. away, I’ve already compromised the whole experience of the dish. And really, nothing quite compares to having that piping hot bowl placed in front of you, dipping your chunky spoon into the steamy broth, leaning in for a gentle soupy facial before taking that first sip, then carefully biting into a succulent wonton while simultaneously blowing quick short puffs of air through the sides of your mouth to cool it down.

Wonton noodle soup is one of those foods, like ramen, that is ideal for solitary dining. No time to chitchat–there are soup and noodles to slurp up before everything becomes too soft and soggy. Another reason why it’s a worker’s favorite quick meal. When I was traveling alone in Hong Kong years ago, one of the restaurants I sought out was this very well-known wonton house in the Wan Cha district called Wing Wah. Business was brisk and the server even brisker. For $5 (US) I received a small bowl of expertly hand-formed wontons resting on top of an equally exquisite nest of chewy thin egg noodles, topped off a flavorful broth and sprinkling of scallions.

Try as I might to savor each bite, I simply devoured the bowl in less than five minutes. I was tempted to order another bowl but the line out the door gave me pause.

The power of a great bowl of wonton noodle soup to center and nourish me cannot be understated, especially when I’m alone. Granted, the ability to find a legit bowl of wonton noodle soup depends solely on location. In Hong Kong, Vancouver, London, LA, NYC, and the Bay Area not a problem. In the midwest, yeah that could prove challenging. However, it is not difficult to make a respectable (mostly from scratch) bowl of wonton soup at home. Grandma taught me that.

Sure, Grandma was not above taking multiple buses to eat a great bowl of wonton noodle soup. But when she wasn’t in the mood to make that trek or when she just needed to fix my grandfather a delicious lunch, Grandma would whip up a batch of wontons using a package of quality store-bought wrappers and doctor up some Knorr chicken bouillon. I know, bouillon cubes seem antithetical to Grandma’s “cook with the best ingredients” philosophy. What can I say, Chinese cooks have an affinity for Knorr bouillon. It’s a pantry staple. She would treat it like any other prepared condiment, used judiciously in combination with other aromatics like fresh ginger, scallion, and sesame oil. After all the stars of the dish were the wontons.

Aside from her steamed wheat starch wrapper dumplings, Grandma’s wontons are seared in my childhood memories. It’s quite possibly the first Chinese dish I learned how to make solely from watching her. In fact, I proudly made them for my Home Ec class in junior high. They by no means rival the virtuosity of Wing Wah, but they are completely satisfying both in complexity of flavor and texture. One package of wonton wrappers (medium thin) is enough to produce several portions. I like to freeze them individually on a sheet pan until solid, then portion them out into 10-12 pieces per ziploc bag to keep them on hand in the freezer for those times when I just want a bowl of comforting wonton soup. Unlike Grandma, I prefer to doctor up boxed organic low sodium chicken broth with a tiny bit mushroom bouillon powder, fresh sliced ginger, and splash of rice wine, adding in a small bunch of baby boy choy or sliced napa cabbage to simmer for 30 seconds at the very end. Before I place the boiled wontons in the bowl, I drizzle in a little toasted sesame oil, soy, and a handful of chopped scallions, then ladle simmered broth over the wontons and lightly cooked greens.

If you can find fattier ground pork, I highly suggest using it instead of lean ground pork. It’ll make the filling juicier, more flavorful and tender. While I like adding fresh shiitake mushrooms to the filling and broth, it’s not really necessary. A decent rehydrated dried mushroom will do just fine. To make the shrimp more zhong, try tossing the raw shrimp in some sea salt and letting it marinate for about 10-15 mins., then rinse off the excess salt and drain well before adding it to the filling. T’his is the same process as the one used to make har gow. Stockpiling wontons for the freezer is a fun weekend project that gives you the full experience of enjoying a fresh steaming bowl of love anytime you want without resorting to take out, which is the next best thing to actually sitting inside a restaurant.

Grandma’s Won Ton Soup

Yield: about 50 wontons

Filling:

• 8 oz. fatty ground pork
• 7-8 large raw shrimp, shelled & deveined
• 1 t. sea salt (plus more to taste*)
• 3-4 large fresh or dried & rehydrated shiitake mushrooms, finely chopped
• 2 scallions, chopped
• 1″ piece fresh ginger, peeled & finely grated
• 1 T. rice wine
• 1 T. light soy sauce
• 1 t. ground white pepper
• 1/2 t. sugar
• 1 t. toasted sesame oil
• 1 large egg
• 1 T. corn starch
• 1 package medium to thin wonton wrappers
• 1 egg white

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1. Place the shrimp in a small bowl and toss well with about 1 t. sea salt. Let it sit in the refrigerator for 10-15 mins. Rinse off the excess salt and drain well. Chop into 1/3″ chunks.
2. In medium large mixing bowl. combine the pork, chopped mushrooms, scallions, ginger, rice wine, soy, sugar, white pepper, sesame oil, egg, and cornstarch. Using a pair of chop sticks, stir the mixture together clockwise for about 10 times, then reverse direction and stir another 10 times until the pork looks fairy smooth. Mix in the shrimp.
3. To test for seasoning, take a small spoonful fo the filling, place it in a dish and microwave for about 30-40 secs or until filling it cooked through. Taste and adjust for salt.
4. To assemble, spoon about 1 teaspoon of filling slightly off center on a wrapper, spreading it out horizontally. Dab a little egg white along the top edge of the wrapper and fold over to seal in the filling. Holding the folded side facing up, join the two ends together in the U-shape, dabbing one end with a little egg white to seal the ends together.
5. Set the wontons out onto a lined rimmed baking sheet, space enough apart so they don’t stick together. Freeze uncovered for about 30 mins. or until solid. Portion out wontons 10-12 per serving.
6. To cook, bring about 6 c. water to a rolling boil, then add the serving of frozen wontons. Boil for a few minutes until the wontons easily float to the surface. Remove the wontons immediately with a spider or slotted spoon in a prepared bowl (see below).

Soup:

Yield: 1 portion

• 12 oz. low sodium chicken broth
• 1/2 t. mushroom bouillon (optional)
• 3-4 slices fresh ginger
• 1 t. rice wine
• 2 small bunches boy boy choy, quartered
• 2 shiitake mushrooms, sliced (optional)
• 1 scallion, chopped
• 1 t. toasted sesame oil
• 1 t. light soy sauce
• about 10 boiled wontons

1. Combine chicken broth, ginger, rice wine, mushroom bouillon, and shiitakes in a pot and bring to boil. Reduce to a simmer. Add the greens, cover the pot and continue simmering for another 30-45 secs.
2. Meanwhile place the scallion, sesame oil, and soy in a serving bowl. Add the boiled wontons, then ladle on the soup and greens.