The streetlights were on. It was freezing cold outside. Occasionally, one or two passengers walked on the snowy road, making squeaking sounds. The four of my family – my father, my mother, my brother, and me - were home early on the afternoon of the Chinese New Year’s Eve of 2022. It has been our family’s tradition to make dumplings on Chinese New Year’s Eve, but that evening was extraordinary special – my father just reunited with us after almost one year’s separation due to the covid.

We had specific roles – my mother making dough and the dumpling wrappers, me and my brother wrapping the wrappers with premade fillings, and my father cooking the dumplings. Born in a northeastern city, my mother inherited all the dumpling-making techniques. She put flour in a large bowl and gradually added water. She first mixed the flour and water using a pair of chopsticks until no white “spots” of flour could be seen. Then she kneaded the flour using her hands until it became dough. “Let it nap for ten minutes,” my mother left the dough alone and got busy making the dining table ready for us to make the wrappers.

The making of dumpling wrappers was an art performance. My mother picked up a big block of the dough, poked a hole in the middle, and made a big dough ring. She then rotated the ring, like pulling a rope using both hands, until the ring became eel-size thick. She chopped off the dough into inch-long dough blocks. After spreading a handful of dry flour on the big wooden cutting board, my mother skillfully made dumpling wrappers by rolling and pressing a wooden rolling pin on the dough blocks. Quickly, the pile of dough blocks became a pile of thin, round dumpling wrappers.

“Kids, now it is time to make the dumplings.” My brother and I were called on by my mother to the dining table. My father also joined us, leaving his favorite TV shows on in the living room. Compared to making the dough and rolling the wrapper, stuffing the wrappers with the fillings – ground pork mixed with chopped napa or celery - was a no-brainer.  But closing the wrapper still needs some artwork. What my mother taught us was to ripple one side of the wrapper and stick it to the other side. This way, the closing side of the dumpling would be like a skirt’s fringe. Although it was an easy task, it took us quite a long time. We enjoyed the stuffing of dumplings but relished more happiness from doing it as a family – a luxury we rarely had in today’s busy life.

The dumpling is called Jiaozi in Chinese. It is said that the dumpling was first invented for medical use about 1,800 years ago by Zhang Zhongjin, a doctor in Dengzhou, Nanyang. It soon became a popular food among the Chinese in the northeastern part of China. In the past century, as the Chinese became more migrating due to jobs and travel, the dumpling has gained popularity across China. At the same time, modern life requires a fast pace in everything. The dumpling is no exception. Handmade dumplings are replaced by machine-made ones. Frozen dumplings can be easily purchased in any supermarket. Sitting down in a dumpling restaurant and dipping dumplings in a small plate of sauce among a crowd of customers is replaced by fast home delivery. Eating dumplings and chatting with family members or friends is replaced by eating dumplings and staring at computer screens. What do we gain and what do we lose in our modern life?

The water in the cooking pot is boiling. My mother dumped a dozen dumplings in the cooking pot. After a few rounds of adding cold water to the pot to make the dumplings cook well, the dumplings were ready for the table. Would I be the lucky one to bite the dumpling in which my mother secretly placed a coin?