There's something about the dumpling.
I look at the world and I see dumplings.
Chinese pot-stickers, Korean mandu, Nepalese momo, Ukrainian varenyky, Russian pelmeny, Polish pirogies, Thai money bags, Jewish matzoh balls, Indian samosas, Italian ravioli, Maltese pastizzi - so many different places and cultures and so much similar and singular commitment to wrapping dough around protein.
A veritable, edible archetype. A pan-fried, deep-fried, boiled, or steamed (but never microwaved) dollop of deliciousness.
Travel far and wide, and the dumpling has appeal.
How's it possible that so much goodness comes in this one little packet?
Who struck on this simple, efficient and elegant design?
Will its contents be saucy, sweet, savoury or spicy?
Will it explode on to my shirt on this embarrassing first date or appeal to her with worldliness?
Who are the people and the cultures that make these succulent sensations?
How are they the same as me and how are they different - the folks that is?
Are dumplings just about the stomach or also the soul? (And, you know which way that's gonna go.)
What do I learn about others and about myself as I eat folk's dumplings in their restaurants, homes and market stalls?
I look at my city - Sydney - and I see dumplings across our splendid suburbs. Diverse dumplings and myriad stories. Stories about migration, stories about identity, stories about families and growing up, stories about making a living...
So, this blog will start with wandering Sydney's kaleidoscopic suburbs, looking for great dumplings, taking Instagram photos, and most importantly listening to stories about what we share. Come along for the stroll.