New Year's Eve Jiaozi Party

When we first got a text message from Karen inviting us to a New Year’s Eve jiaozi party, I wasn’t too sure it was something I wanted to go to. For one thing, I’m not a night person and the idea of staying up until midnight fills me with dread, even on New Year’s Eve. I’d much rather have a nice dinner, watch a movie, and crawl into bed no later than 10. I’ve had many years of starting out the New Year feeling like my head has been squeezed through a meat grinder and then pounded into putty. What kind of way is that to begin a new year, when really wouldn’t it be better to start out the year in a condition that bodes well for new beginnings?? For another thing, I really dread get-togethers where the entertainment is to be provided by the guests. Maybe I’m a snob, maybe I’m socially challenged, maybe I prefer to eat a nice dinner, watch a movie, and crawl into bed by 10. Despite my initial reservations, culinary curiosity carried the day. I mean, when would I ever get such a chance again to learn how to make jiaozi (dumplings or gyoza or potstickers--take your pick, all names lead to jiaozi)?

Armed with root beer for the kids (the newest find at Jenny’s Import Store—and it made some of the others at the party positively swoon in anticipation of getting some for themselves), chocolate chip cookies (made with Dove milk chocolate, as chocolate chips are not to be found at Jenny’s) and cocoa fudge cookies for dessert (I know, it sounds kinda gross, all those sweets at the end of a blissful meal of jiaozi, but I was told to bring dessert), and the guitar Dave borrowed from Karen back in August and has touched exactly twice—the second time being the hour before we left for dinner—we marched through the bitterly cold evening to our New Year’s Eve party.

When we got there, we found Malicha (Tyler’s wife) and Dalai rolling out jiaozi dough and making at least five different kinds of filling. The apartment soon filled with the rest of the American teachers along with many Chinese friends; one and all sipped some kind of orange-colored punch and readied themselves to begin making jiaozi. The whole process is actually quite simple but I have to say the folding and pinching of the dumplings is something that you can’t possibly learn from a cookbook with as much ease or as much fun as from a real person. Malicha and Dalai made the dough (flour and water), kneading it and punching it and basically getting it into a long rope ready for the tables out in the dining room. Another person took over, laying the rope out on a cutting board and slicing off small bits of dough.

Emi and Malicha (and a bowl of filling--pork with mushrooms)

Rolling the dough into discs ready for filling.

Each bit is pressed into a little disc and then the next person took it up, rolling it into a very thin round shape, about three inches in diameter. These were then moved to the third table where all of us took turns stuffing the dough with one of the fillings.

Samuel getting the low-down on jiaozi filling--that's mutton with carrots, ginger, garlic, and green onions.

Grace's jiaozi--shaped like a little hat!

Lots of fillings, lots of stuffed jiaozi waiting to be boiled. See all the different shapes?

The best thing about stuffing was learning all the different ways people seal up the dumplings. Because jiaozi are the main dish served at Chinese New Year, all the Chinese at Karen’s apartment grew up making jiaozi with their families. And so from Kim I learned to make a little “hat” shape that looks a lot like the way some tortellini are wrapped, as well as how to make a mouse-shaped jiaozi; from Emi I learned the trick of folding the ends in so to keep all juices tightly sealed inside the dough; from Tyler (okay, not Chinese, but married to an expert jiaozi maker) I learned how to make the dumpling look like a cresent moon with a nice plump bottom to sit on.

Once stuffed and sealed, the dumpling are put into a pot of boiling water, where they mingle around until they are cooked, at which point they pop to the surface and are ready to be fished out and eaten. I think we made about 350 jiaozi, although they weren’t all eaten. They are best eaten with vinegar, soy sauce, and hot sauce, but frankly they are so tasty they can be eaten plain, too.

With the dinner over, the entertainment began. I tried to hide in a corner of the room—not that I had been asked to perform anything, and I would have died if anyone had tried to broach the subject—and pretend I wasn’t there. There were songs with guitars, songs with a Mongolian horse head fiddle, songs with a ukulele, songs with an electric keyboard and harmonica, songs with a flute. Dave gave a stellar guitar performance, turning rusty fingers and a rusty memory into a comedy routine that had everyone howling with laughter and his wife in tears from laughing so hard. Samuel and Grace happily jumped up when called upon to perform “their” song and belted out “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” with nary a quiver of shyness.

Mitchell in traditional Mongolian clothing playing the horse head fiddle. This is really beautiful and amazing music.

I guess all in all it was a lot of fun, although I don’t think I’ll be signing up for the next evening of entertainment. I do better as an appreciative, though silent, audience member.

After a parlor game of “Bippity Boppity Boo” (I’ll spare you the details but do not think you will make it through the year without learning it, as it is really funny, and we plan on springing it on unsuspecting guests to our house—you are warned!) we dragged the kids home. It was 10:30 (past my bedtime, remember?) and the kids were hopped up on cookies, punch, and silliness. Samuel kept nagging us to watch a movie (what????) and Grace had a meltdown. We got them into bed, cuddled with them, and they fell asleep at 11:55. Oh so close… In the end they weren’t too disappointed to hear they hadn’t made it to midnight. They really liked the idea of being able to say “Goodnight! See you next year!” I can’t say as I blamed them, as I enjoyed writing to some of you on our January 1^st, across the great divide of the year, since it was 2008 for us and 2007 for my correspondents. Who needs guitars or flutes when you can be so easily entertained by a trick of time zones?

2008 began as it does for most people—sleeping in late and then after a hurried breakfast Dave and the kids raced out the door for two hours of ice skating with Tyler and Dalai. Okay, well the sleeping in part is normal. I lounged around the house and did my most favorite things: cleaned the floors and did the laundry. Whoopee! so much excitement. Dave came home from ice skating a broken man—tag on ice with two twenty-somethings resulted in three spectacular falls, including one in which he thought he was flying—his entire left side from shoulder to hip sprouting bruises as we looked at them. Today (Wednesday) his left hand was swollen enough and my nagging was so insistent that he had it x-rayed. No break, but a hairline crack and what we think the doctor meant as a sprain. Guess who is stuck with all the dishes until Dave’s hand heals? HAPPY NEW YEAR! We’re all glad it’s not broken, in any case, and the nice-smelling but turpentine- and kerosene-laden oil the doctor prescribed is working nicely to relieve Dave’s discomfort.

I hope everyone had a wonderful start to 2008 and we all wish you all the very best for the New Year.