Tag Archives: Chinese cuisine

King of the Soup Dumplings: Yang Bing-Yi

King of the Soup Dumplings: Yang Bing-Yi

By Fanny Wong, New York.

During the Chinese civil war in 1948, Yang Bing-Yi was an ambitious 21-year-old man. He decided to leave his home in southern China and embark on a new life. With only $20 in his pocket, Bing-Yi stepped into a boat to escape the war. He worried whether the rickety boat would make it to Taipei, the capital of Taiwan.

The boat arrived safely and Bing-Yi’s life changed.

He met and married a young woman, Lai Pen-Mei. They started a new business together.

Young and hard-working, the couple sold cooking oil in glass bottles. This supported their growing family, until oil in tins became popular and business slowed.

Bing-Yi worried. What else could he do to support his growing family? His education was disrupted when Japanese troops occupied China. Without a good education, he still could work hard and make something of himself. He started another business.

He recalled he had learned how to make noodles from relatives. That was something he did rather well. So he opened a store to sell noodles.

He made very good noodles. Business was brisk but there was a lot of competing noodle makers. What could he do to bring in more customers? How could his noodles stand out? He had no idea. Then a loyal customer encouraged him to make something else, a soup dumpling (Xiao Long Bao) that was popular in China.

“At first,” Bing-Yi explained. “I knew nothing about the skills of making dumplings, but I set out to learn.”

He had a lot to learn!

First, he created the soup with pork bones. Then he mixed the filling of pork, water, minced ginger, and then seasoned it with soy sauce and pepper.

The flour dough was easy to make. Bing-Yi rolled out each piece to a round disc about 3 inches in diameter.

The challenge was how to fill the dough with soup. He formed it into a pouch, but the soup was too thin. It didn’t stay inside.

He experimented and experimented with the dough. It was either too thick or too thin. Even when the dough was just right, nothing worked. But he persisted and came to the conclusion that the problem could not be the consistency of the dough.

He started to experiment with the soup.

He boiled chicken and pig bones for a long time until the soup was gelatin-like, which was easier to handle than liquid soup. He filled the soup gelatin into the pouch and pinched it close, making pleats on top. When he steamed the dumplings in a wok, the gelatin soup melted. Viola! Soup filled dumpling! After so many trials, he had found the solution!

The aroma made Bing-Yi’s mouth water. He waited impatiently for the dumplings to be cooked. He lifted the wok cover to check on the progress frequently. Finaly, dumplings were ready. He poked a hole on the top of a dumpling to let out the steam. He bit first into the skin, then delicately slurped up the hot soup. He closed his eyes to savor the soup and the filling. An explosion of flavors and texture! Delicious! His customers would love it.

Word of mouth from appreciative customers brought more people that overflowed his store front. In 1972, at age of 45, Bing-Yi took a bold step and opened his first restaurant in Taipei, Taiwan. He named it Din Tai Fung. He chose those words because din means a cooking vessel and tai fung mean peace and abundance. It was an auspicious name for a restaurant that would open branches first in Tokyo, then in Arcadia, California, and then in New York City.

Each restaurant uses the same high standard, down to the diameter of the dough and the weight of each soup dumpling. Each one must weigh 21 grams, about three-quarters of an ounce. Through glass windows in the restaurants, customers can watch the white-uniformed cooks prepare the dumplings in a brightly lit kitchen. They can see the amount of work and the technique of making a soup dumpling. Their consistent high quality of the dumplings and level of service bring new and repeat customers.

In 1993, the New York Times published a feature about the restaurant. In 2010, it received a Michelin Star, a prestigious award to a restaurant offering outstanding cooking. Food tasting experts have raved about the dumplings, spreading the restaurant’s fame far and wide.

In 2023, Yang Bing-Yi passed away at the ripe age of 96. But his two sons continue their father’s legacy, serving the popular Xiao Long Boa in Din Tai Fung restaurants in many cities all over the world.

Two years ago, I visited my brother-in-law in Taipei, Taiwan. He took me to a Din Tai Fung in a shopping mall. We had to take a number and wait on a bench outside. My brother-in-law ordered not only the dumplings, but also small side dishes and a cucumber salad. I still remember how delicious the dumplings were. Surely worth the 30-minute wait!

By Fanny Wong, Chinese American author, New York. Ms. Wong has been a frequent contributor to Skipping Stones Magazine.

Making Wontons

Making Wontons

By Drew Choy, age 12, grade 6, California.

The cold water welcomed my fingertips as I dipped them into the bowl. I gently lathered the water onto the wrapper so I wouldn’t rip it. The meat inside of the wrapper felt like a golf ball—smooth, spherical and heavy for its small size. I connected the two opposite corners of the wrapper and folded the wonton* into an envelope.

I’m a third generation American and making wontons is something that connects me to my culture. My parents are pretty good at it, but I’m just starting, so sometimes I make small mistakes. We make them at random times. Sometimes I get home from soccer practice and the wontons are waiting for me, and other times, I get to make a couple of them, too.

Chinese cuisine is a lot different than many other cuisines in that you rarely ever get to eat the dish you ordered. Most of the time, you share all of the food with everyone at the table, even if you only ordered one item. When I share these meals with my parents, it helps me bond with them.

I set the wonton down on the platter where many of the wontons my parents had previously made were sitting. Journey (the music band) played in the background. My mom, who was preparing the vegetables for dinner, said something to my dad in Chinese which I didn’t understand.

As my dad pulled the first batch of wontons out of the pot, the aroma filled the room, and my mouth watered.

I refocused on my task, but I was having trouble closing the wrappers tight. So I dropped the wonton onto the plate, sat back in my chair, and crossed my arms.

My dad got up from his chair and crouched down next to me. He then calmly walked me through how to find the right amount of meat and how to seal the wrappers well.

When I visit China, I’m the only person in my family who doesn’t speak any Chinese. Whenever we’re shopping at street markets, vendors are shouting out items in Chinese, and at restaurants the menus are all written in Chinese. This makes me feel separated from my culture because I can’t do the basic things that Chinese people can do. But when we’re back home in California, making Chinese food is one of the only things that makes me feel Chinese.

“It’s okay,” my dad tells me. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

My mom, still standing over the boiling pot of water, says, “Yeah, as a kid, I didn’t understand how to make wontons right away. It takes time to learn new things.”

A smile crept onto my face. When the wontons were finished boiling, I made a sauce containing soy sauce, sesame sauce and rice vinegar. I bit into the first wonton and the juice from the meat burst inside my mouth in a flavorful explosion.

Immersing in Chinese culture isn’t just about speaking the language. Food and my parents are equally important things that connect me to it. In China, I may have felt awkward being around a lot of the people, but through participating in small cultural practices here in the U.S., I hope to fill the gap between Chinese culture and me.

* Wonton is a Chinese dumpling that is commonly found across many regional cuisines of China.

—Drew Choy, age 12, grade 6, California. Drew writes, “I’m Chinese-American, and I am the second generation of my family born in the U.S. I only speak English right now, but I used to be fluent in Chinese. The most important thing to me is my parents. They are the ones that support you and guide you through all aspects of your lifetime. My parents are my best friends and I wouldn’t be who I am without them. In the future, my dream is to become a professional soccer player. I am a very athletic kid, and sports are something that always cheer me up.”