Crystal Skin Dumplings with Bangguang

And before you know it, Chinese New Year is finally exhaling its last long breaths. I’ll be honest and admit that I am glad that the festivity is finally waning. Growing up, I viewed Chinese New Year as a huge obligation.

I remember how, as a young girl, I would squirrel away in my grandmother’s bedroom while the adults talked. My grandmother used to keep a stack of drawing paper and a whole stash of color pencils just for me, and I would spend hours alone drawing anything that came to my imagination – the hours flew by that way.

Recently, a friend asked how this festive season has been for me this year. “I’m feeling the weight of years this Chinese New Year,” she reflected. “Seeing how old my parents and relatives are, how many of them have gone and how frail everyone is, makes me so much more aware of the future. Funny that it takes special festive occasions to be more aware of family, frailty and the need to connect.”

Coincidentally, I have been feeling the same; the sensitivity to how precious every reunion is grows keener with each passing year. The irony is not lost on me; while laughter and a level of excitement burgeons around everybody else, a wave of melancholy passes over me as I observe my grandma as though I am seeing her for the first time.

I watch closely as she stands amongst us, slightly hunched and a full head shorter. Her hands are clasped and head tilted downwards, struggling to comprehend as we fluently exchange words about our jobs, ambitions, and philosophies, nodding empathetically every once in a while she caught a snippet she could understand.

As I speak with my grandma, there are times where I feel like asking about her life before children and grandchildren came along, about how she was like as a girl. It slowly began to dawn upon me that all these years of visiting her on a once-a-year basis, I have only been talking about myself.

Every year is making up for lost time. This year when I asked why her English is so remarkably good for someone of her generation, she laughed, throwing her head back as she does in her interminably sprightly fashion, all the while insisting that the state of her English is embarrassing. Later, my aunt explained that even though my grandma was Chinese-educated, her parents owned a retail shop, commonly frequented by Norwegians. Who would have thought!

When words are not easy to say, food and cooking give me something tangible to express kinship, gratitude and love. It is a common currency for connection. Dumplings are customary on every family’s table during the festive season; the pot-bellied crescents resemble ingots, and have come to symbolize wealth and prosperity. While my love for gyozas runs deep, crystal skin dumplings come a close second. Initially opaque and powder white, the dough turns beautifully translucent after steaming.

Bang guang (jicama or yam bean) has thin knobbly brown skin and translucent white flesh within. Its most common application in Singapore is in the the nation’s deeply beloved kueh pie tee, where it is braised in prawn stock until yielding. It is also great in this dumpling, where it is barely cooked and retains its delicate crunch. Slightly chewy skin giving way to a crisp mangguang filling, these crystal skin dumplings make one feel more loved and cared for. And that holds true for any time of the year.

Crystal Skin Dumplings Filling: 2-3 tbs oil 2 cloves garlic, chopped 2/3 cup dried shrimp, soaked in hot water until soft, squeezed, chopped 1/2 cup dried shiitake mushrooms, soaked, stalks removed, chopped 3 cups chopped jicama (bangguang) 1 carrot, grated 4-5 stalks spring onion, chopped 1 cup lightly packed coriander leaves Fish sauce and sugar to taste

Saute the chopped garlic until fragrant in the oil. Add the dried shrimp and shiitake and saute for 3 minutes. Add the jicama and carrot and cook until carrot wilts. Scatter in the spring onion and coriander just before removing from the heat and season with fish sauce and sugar. Cool completely before filling.

Crystal skin wrapper: 1/2 cup boiling water 3/4 cup wheat starch 6 tbs tapioca flour 1/4 tsp salt 2 tsp oil Knead everything till smooth. Weigh 10g of dough for each dumpling. On a lightly floured surface, roll each piece into a thin circle, slightly larger than a 3" circular cookie cutter. Lift the dumpling skin from the work surface to make sure it is not sticking, before stamping out the circle. Place a generous amount of filling in each wrapper and pleat the dumpling by folding the circle over itself. If desired, crimp the edges. Transfer the dumplings to a bamboo steamer lined with parchment and steam until the skins turn translucent, about 7-10 minutes over high heat. Alternatively, you can line a large plate with parchment and steam in a wok.