...is still as sweet. A dumpling by any other name is still just a dumpling.
Forgive my lack of enthusiasm over dumplings but I'm just not a big fan. The ginger-y/pork-y/weird-unidentifiable-green-vegetable-y taste just doesn't do a lot for me. Kevin likes them though.
But despite their unappetizing appeal (to me at least), they sure are fun to make! Gigi taught me how to make them recently. These people are so amazing at working with dough. Her's were a thousand times better looking than mine. Here's looked like dumplings; mine looked like a squashed version of a turkey. Even after you rolled everything up and cooked it in the boiling water, you could still tell which ugly ones were the products of my Western hands.
The best part is that she let me eat just one and then laughed when I excused myself to have a salad for lunch instead. Why exactly did I move to this country when I really don't care for the food? Well, there is a reason and I hope you know what it is!