Little Parcels of Happiness

In a world full of chaos, dumplings are a comforting constant that has survived for generations.

The art of making dumplings is passed down from generation to generation, each fold carrying stories of family and tradition. - Andrea Nguyen, author of “Asian Dumplings”

The nearest I’ve ever been to living in the Far East is the 20-something years I lived in the San Francisco Bay Area. This was the breeding ground for my obsession with Asian-style dumplings.

I’ve enjoyed dumplings in Singapore, Melbourne, Honolulu, Zürich, and London. But those early impressions of dim sum lunches on the outskirts of San Francisco’s Chinatown permanently tattooed the part of my brain responsible for food urges.

Those spontaneous dim sum lunches with colleagues became our escape from corporate constraints. Six to eight of us, young and delightfully reckless with our time management, would pile into cars and drive 30 minutes into the bustling city. The fact that we'd spend two hours away from our desks didn't matter – we knew what awaited us was worth every stolen minute.

The unassuming dim sum restaurants in this part of San Francisco were already jammed by 11:30. There were tourists, bankers, young and old, bike messengers, and every other kind of soul imaginable sitting around shared wooden tables with a lazy-susan turntable in the center, waiting for the arrival of small plates of dumplings, wontons, and steamed buns.

Trollies emerged from the swinging doors toward one end of the restaurant. They were pushed around from table to table by one of a dozen or so Asian employees dressed in wrinkly white shirts. The hum of the room quieted for just a moment as everyone’s attention focused on what little parcels of joy were on that trolley. It was easy to sense the calculations going on inside heads, “Would there be enough left before that trolley made its way to my table?” And then another trolley would emerge, carrying something different, and the calculations would begin anew.

The pace of emerging trollies through the swinging doors quickened until everyone in the restaurant had stacks of empty plates on their lazy-susan turntable. Smiles and laughter were seen and heard everywhere. Sixty minutes of utter chaos were ending, but the memories of those tasty little parcels lingered.

Chinese food expert and chef Ken Hom put it this way, “In Chinese culture, dumplings are not just food – they are a symbol of family unity, shaped by many hands working together.” That’s how the experiences in the dim sum restaurants always felt – they were moments of unity centered around tasty little bits of shared food.

---

Various shapes of dumplings I've learned over the years ¦ Photos by Jack McNulty

---

Those chaotic yet joyful dim sum lunches left an imprint that wouldn't fade. When I moved to Zürich, where most tourists prefer dipping bread into cauldrons of melted cheese and the business community demands fast plates of pasta or quick takeaway grilled sausages, I found myself craving those little parcels of happiness. The only answer was clear – I had to learn to make them myself.

The path of least resistance was finding an Asian market, buying some pre-made dumpling wrappers, and filling them with...well, just about anything. My early versions were not sophisticated. I simply created half-moon shapes and steamed them. As you might imagine, the result was a lack of filling wrapped around a plastic-like dough. These early experiments didn’t scratch my itch for authentic Asian-style dumplings.

Eventually, after watching a lot of videos on YouTube and reading a lot of books, I started creating dumplings that were tasty and surprisingly authentic-looking. For six months, my wife and I made dumplings at least once or twice per week. We tried different shapes. We tried various types of dough. We experimented with fillings. We even flew to London to experience a Michelin-starred dumpling restaurant in Soho (Yauatcha Soho).

We decided it was time to teach others what we learned. We began offering classes on making Asian Dumplings at home, which evolved into pop-up dumpling evenings in our kitchen loft.

There’s an old saying that happiness is the reward that ensues when we do something meaningful...and what could be more meaningful than making, sharing, and enjoying a plate of dumplings or steamed buns with friends?

Time passes, cities change, and restaurants come and go. But the simple joy of sharing dumplings – whether at a bustling dim sum palace in San Francisco or around a kitchen table in Switzerland – remains constant. Each little parcel still carries the same promise of happiness it did all those years ago.

A selection of steamed buns and dumplings made by students of my Asian Dumpling course ¦ Photo by Jack McNulty

---

Steamed Scallion Buns – Hua Juan

Making the Hua Juan shape before steaming ¦ Photo by Jack McNulty

These uniquely shaped buns are delicate in flavor and perfect little appetizers before any Asian-style dinner. In China, it is common to enjoy Hua Juan for breakfast.

The name Hua Juan means flower rolls, and these little delights aim to look like a blooming flower bud.

Like all dumplings, the shape and fillings are easily adaptable. These steamed buns can be shaped in many ways, including simple round-rolled discs. The fillings are also flexible – scatter whatever you please on the dough surface.

---

All recipes are accessible to paid supporters only. Please consider donating a small fee to gain access to my recipes and help keep this project alive and ad-free.

---

Do you have a dim sum experience?

I still think about those unique San Francisco dim sum lunches. In many ways, those experiences taught me a lot about the importance of culture and sharing food, and I know that made a lasting impression on why I think food brings people together.

I would like to hear from you. Have you had a particularly memorable dim sum experience?

Please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below.

No time? No worries! A quick heart tap below feeds both the algorithm and my ego.

If you feel chatty, hop onto Substack Notes to comment or restack. Even a snippet will do!

---

Something to consider...

“Food may not be the answer to world peace, but it's a start.” – Anthony Bourdain

---

Social Media

I’m no longer engaged with Facebook or Instagram. Please follow me on Bluesky to maintain a social media connection.

LinkedIn ¦ Bluesky

---

One of the best ways to share your appreciation of my work is to share it with your circle of friends, family, or your social media world. While you’re at it, maybe you would like to gift someone a subscription.

---

I know many of you out there are caught in a troubling situation with an uncertain financial future. Many are choosing to spend money and subscribe to independent journalists who are doing a great job. I support this…but it’s also troubling for the little ones like me who struggle to find enough paid subscribers to make this work on Substack.

I am immensely grateful for each and every subscription I receive to this project. If you are able, please consider a paid subscription that will help me keep this project alive and to begin offering additional content and services. An annual subscription is 50€ - a shade over 4€ per month.

---