Dumpling Dichotomies: Reconstructing Jiaozi from Northern & Southern China
Introduction: Why Jiaozi?
Growing up in a predominantly white suburb of St. Louis, I rarely encountered reflections of my own background in the community around me. Asian culture felt distant – something mostly confined to my family’s kitchen and the occasional Chinatown grocery run. That changed when I came to WashU, where I met students from a wide range of Asian American backgrounds. Many of my new friends were Chinese American, but I quickly realized that even among us, there were major differences in how we experienced and understood "Chinese culture."
Language was one of the first divides I noticed: I spoke Cantonese, while they spoke Mandarin. Then came the food – something that had always felt familiar and grounding. I was surprised to learn that some dishes I grew up eating were completely foreign to them, or that we pronounced even the same dishes differently. It made me wonder: how much of our sense of culture is shaped not just by ethnicity, but by regional and historical context?
That curiosity is what drew me to dumplings – specifically jiaozi. It’s a dish that feels so familiar and universal, but once you start asking questions about it – how it's made, who makes it, when and why it’s eaten – it quickly becomes a window into something much bigger. Through this project, I wanted to dig into the historical and regional variations of jiaozi, and explore how something so simple can carry so much meaning across generations and geography.
Analyzing The Primary Source – Yuan Mei’s The Way of Eating: Manual of Gastronomy
At the center of this project is The Way of Eating: Manual of Gastronomy [1], a Qing dynasty cookbook written by Yuan Mei, a renowned poet and scholar known for his refined yet opinionated take on food [2]. Composed in the 18th century, Yuan’s work reflects the tastes and values of southern China’s elite class, emphasizing simplicity, ingredient quality, and restraint in seasoning, often reduced to a few short lines, with little to no explanation of measurements, techniques, or timing [2]. This minimalist style suggests an audience that already possessed deep culinary knowledge, likely members of the educated upper class who would either cook themselves as a leisure activity or direct servants in the kitchen. Behind his concise instructions lies a confidence that food should speak for itself, and that true culinary skill comes from intuition and experience rather than rigid rules. While this presents challenges for modern reconstruction, it also offers a unique glimpse into how food was conceptualized and appreciated in his time. Yuan’s writing serves not only as a recipe collection but also as a cultural artifact, reflecting broader attitudes toward class, regional identity, and culinary aesthetics in 18th-century southern China. As a historical source, the text offers a rich glimpse into southern Chinese food culture, but it also requires careful interpretation – reading between the lines of what is said and, just as importantly, what is left unsaid.
The Recipe for Southern Style Jiaozi from Yuan Mei
Reading the recipe for jiaozi in The Way of Eating [1], I was immediately struck by its simplicity that I had mentioned previously. The instructions are sparse – flatten dough, fill with pork, steam – and yet behind those few words lies a world of assumptions. Yuan Mei doesn’t explain how to prepare the dough, what cut of pork to use, or even how to season it beyond stating that the meat should be tender and well-flavored. For a modern reader, especially one attempting a reconstruction, it’s both a challenge and an invitation to fill in the blanks through research, context, and culinary intuition. What stood out most, however, wasn’t just the minimalism of the recipe, but the brief side note accompanying it.
The editor draws attention to Yuan Mei’s mention of eating this dish in Guangdong, suggesting that the dumplings he described align more with the delicate, steamed jiaozi of southern China rather than the thicker-skinned, boiled versions associated with the north [1]. That small observation opened up a much larger question for me: how do regional identities, shaped by geography, migration, and class, influence not just how food is made, but what it’s supposed to feel like? It was that distinction – between the dainty and the hearty, the steamed and the boiled – that inspired the core of this project.
One unexpected detail that stood out to me in reading Yuan Mei’s recipe was the name “Dianbuleng,” an unusual term that appears alongside his jiaozi instructions. At first, I assumed it was just an archaic or poetic phrase, but I later came across a scholar’s intriguing hypothesis suggesting that Dianbuleng may actually be an 18th-century Chinese transliteration of the English word “dumpling” [3]. The theory posits that due to Guangzhou’s active trade with English-speaking nations at the time, a local vendor might have heard the term used by a British trader to describe the food and adapted it as a kind of brand or differentiator [3]. I found this story particularly interesting, not just because of the linguistic coincidence, but because it hinted at a surprising layer of global exchange embedded in what I had thought of as a purely local, traditional food. While the scholar cautions against retroactively calling jiaozi “dumplings” in a literal sense, the idea that such cross-cultural influence may have occurred even during the Qing dynasty challenges the idea of culinary traditions as static or isolated. It reminds me that food names, like the recipes themselves, are always shifting—shaped not only by region and class, but also by language, trade, and even miscommunication.
How Region Can Impact Cuisine
As I began digging into the regional variations of jiaozi, it became clear that geography and climate have long shaped the ingredients, preparation methods, and cultural roles of dumplings across China. Northern China is defined by expansive plains, steppe regions, and a dry continental climate with cold winters and hot summers. These environmental conditions historically favored the cultivation of hardy grains like wheat and millet over rice. As a result, northern Chinese cuisine developed around wheat-based staples – including thick-skinned, chewy dumpling wrappers made from wheat flour [4]. These dumplings are often boiled or pan-fried and filled with hearty combinations like pork, napa cabbage, and chives – ingredients suited to colder climates and preserved through salting or fermenting during long winters. Jiaozi in the north are also deeply tied to seasonal rituals, especially Lunar New Year and the Winter Solstice, when families gather to wrap and eat dumplings for warmth, prosperity, and togetherness [5].
In contrast, southern China – particularly regions like Guangdong and the Yangtze River Delta – offers a warm, humid climate with fertile valleys, rivers, and long growing seasons. Here, rice is the dominant crop, and the culinary tradition emphasizes freshness, delicate flavors, and lighter preparations [5]. Dumplings in the south often have thinner, more translucent wrappers and are commonly steamed, aligning with broader dim sum traditions [5]. Fillings might include seafood, bamboo shoots, or mushrooms, reflecting both the agricultural abundance and the subtler seasoning preferences of the region. These geographic and climatic contrasts are not just background details – they are central to understanding how a dish like jiaozi can take on such different forms and meanings across China. Exploring these differences helped me see food not just as sustenance or tradition, but as a direct product of landscape, labor, and lifestyle.
Reconstructing Yuan Mei’s Southern Style Recipe: Reinterpreting Simplicity
Reconstructing Yuan Mei’s jiaozi recipe was a lesson in reading between the lines. The original instructions are startlingly minimal – just a few lines stating to flatten dough, fill with pork, and steam. No measurements, no ratios, no folding tips. It quickly became clear that Yuan Mei expected his readers to come to the recipe with a foundational knowledge of cooking. Every step required me to pause and ask: what assumptions lie behind this? What decisions am I allowed to make, and where might I be straying too far?
1. Dough Preparation
The recipe gives no guidance on dough proportions, resting time, or flour type – so I turned to modern resources. I followed a simple flour-and-water recipe using all-purpose flour, based on a tutorial by Lisa Lin [6], which emphasized pliability and ease of handling. I let the dough rest for about an hour to improve elasticity. This step likely mirrors what Yuan Mei would have expected his readers to know instinctively, especially since wheat-based dumpling wrappers were a staple in many southern kitchens, even if not explicitly described.
2. Filling
Yuan Mei emphasized that the pork should be “tender, with any tendons removed,” but offered no specifics beyond that. I opted for ground pork for ease and texture, assuming it would fulfill his call for tenderness. While the recipe mentions an alternative version using pork skin paste, I skipped this step, as it would have required an entirely different level of preparation and access to specialized ingredients. I also decided to add finely chopped cabbage and green onion. Although not listed in the original, it is commonly used today to provide volume and texture, reflecting a modern adaptation while staying within the bounds of typical southern-style dumplings.
3. Seasoning
The vague instruction to season “well” was perhaps the most open-ended part. Drawing from the approach of southern Chinese chefs like content creator Made with Lau [7], I used a restrained yet layered seasoning: soy sauce, fish sauce, white pepper, ginger, garlic, a touch of sugar, shaoxing wine, sesame oil, and hoisin sauce. I avoided ingredients like chicken bouillon, often used in contemporary Chinese-American kitchens, to stay closer to the historical spirit of using fresh ingredients to build umami. The goal was not to overwhelm the pork, but to subtly enhance its natural richness – echoing Yuan Mei’s own emphasis on balance and taste refinement.
4. Dumpling Folding
Yuan Mei says nothing about how to fold the dumplings, which opened the door to regional and personal interpretation. With no clear southern-style method to reference, I followed a basic pleated fold learned from online tutorials. This felt like a practical compromise: it honored the handmade tradition while acknowledging that regional folding styles may have evolved over time or simply gone undocumented in elite cookbooks like Yuan’s.
5. Cooking Method
Without access to a bamboo steamer, I pan-fried the dumplings instead. While this differs from Yuan Mei’s instruction to steam, it allowed me to enjoy a familiar texture I already loved. Steaming would have likely produced a more delicate, dim sum-style dumpling, consistent with southern preferences. In the future, I’d like to repeat the process with a steamer to get closer to the intended texture and evaluate how it changes the overall experience of the dish.
6. Final Review
The end result was surprisingly satisfying. The dough was a little thicker than ideal – likely due to my rolling technique – but held the filling well. The flavor was rich yet balanced, with a lightness that felt true to southern Chinese culinary principles. What began as a simple set of instructions evolved into an interpretive process filled with questions about tradition, taste, and authenticity. The gaps in the original recipe weren’t barriers but were invitations to engage more deeply with the assumptions, culture, and context behind every fold.
7. Reflections and Possibilities for Improvement
While my first attempt at reconstructing Yuan Mei’s jiaozi was enjoyable and flavorful, the process left me with ideas for how the recreation could be made more historically accurate or regionally faithful. The most obvious next step would be trying the proper steaming method. While I opted for pan-frying due to convenience and personal preference, steaming may create a more delicate, moist texture in line with the “dainty southern-style” jiaozi described in the commentary on Yuan’s recipe. That said, I suspect steaming would only work well if the wrapper were rolled thinner than what I achieved in this trial. My dough was a bit too thick, which may have made steaming less effective or produced a gummy result.
That brings me to another potential refinement: rolling the dough thinner. In northern-style dumplings, the thicker skin holds up well to boiling or frying, but southern-style dumplings often feature finer, more translucent wrappers that complement lighter fillings and gentle cooking techniques like steaming. Thinning the dough would also make the dumplings feel more delicate, in line with the refined aesthetic of southern Chinese cuisine and elite culinary tastes during the Qing dynasty.
Finally, I’ve been curious about experimenting with rice flour as an alternative to wheat flour. Though not mentioned in Yuan Mei’s recipe, rice flour is more common in southern China and aligns with the broader tradition of dim sum, which includes many rice-based dumpling wrappers. However, rice flour dough is much less elastic and harder to fold without tearing, making it a difficult but potentially rewarding challenge. It would also result in a gluten-free wrapper, which adds an interesting modern twist. After witnessing other classmates present their projects using rice flour, I am partially glad I avoided it due to how difficult it seems to use without breaking the dough while folding.
Reconstructing the North: A Contemporary Approach to Tradition
Unlike the southern-style jiaozi described by Yuan Mei, I couldn’t find an equivalent historical recipe from the Qing dynasty or earlier that documented northern-style dumplings with similar clarity or authorship. This absence isn’t surprising as many traditional cooking techniques were passed down orally or embedded within daily routines, especially among northern farming families, rather than recorded in elite texts like The Way of Eating. Without a primary source equivalent, I decided to take a more contemporary route for reconstructing northern-style jiaozi, turning to food blogs, family recipes, and modern culinary guides that reflect long-standing northern traditions.
In doing so, I tried to stay grounded in Yuan Mei’s own comparison – his brief aside describing northern dumplings as thicker-skinned, heartier, and more substantial helped guide my interpretation. I also drew heavily from the research I gathered on regional culinary differences, particularly the climate-driven reliance on wheat-based wrappers, stronger seasoning, and cultural associations with winter holidays in the north. My goal wasn’t to re-create a single authoritative recipe, but rather to capture the spirit of northern-style jiaozi as it’s been shaped by history, geography, and everyday practice.
1. Dough Preparation
For consistency and comparability, I reused the same dough recipe I used in the southern-style reconstruction: a basic flour-and-water dough made from all-purpose flour, rested for about an hour to develop elasticity. However, this time I intentionally cut the dough into larger pieces before rolling them out. This resulted in larger wrappers and ultimately bigger dumplings, aligning with the characteristics of northern jiaozi described in both secondary sources and Yuan Mei’s own comparison – heartier, more substantial, and built for volume. The dough held its shape well and gave me enough space to pack in more filling, supporting the generous proportions often associated with northern cooking.
2. Filling
To reflect regional differences in meat preference, I substituted ground pork with ground beef – an ingredient more commonly used in northern Chinese cuisine. This shift was partly inspired by the influence of Muslim populations in northern China, such as the Hui ethnic group, who avoid pork for religious reasons and have shaped regional foodways over centuries [8]. The rest of the filling stayed consistent: chopped cabbage and green onions added crunch and volume, both of which are staples in northern-style dumplings. The substitution not only altered the flavor but helped distinguish the northern identity of this version through ingredient choice alone.
3. Seasoning
This time, I deliberately leaned into bolder seasoning. Guided by the flavor profiles described in contemporary northern-style recipes, I increased the quantities of soy sauce, salt, hoisin sauce, and other umami-rich ingredients. While I kept the base seasoning similar – ginger, garlic, shaoxing wine, sesame oil – I avoided the restraint I used in the southern-style version. The goal was to create a richer, more robust flavor profile that could match the heft of the larger dumplings.
4. Dumpling Folding
As with the southern version, I used a basic pleated fold learned from online resources. While it wasn’t specific to any region, it was functional and familiar. From what I gathered in my research, northern-style dumplings tend to prioritize sturdiness over intricate presentation – especially when meant to be boiled or served in large quantities during family gatherings. The fold held up well to pan-frying and supported the increased volume of the filling.
5. Cooking Method
Although traditional northern-style jiaozi are often boiled, I still pan-fried these dumplings using the same method as before, mostly due to equipment limitations and personal preference. That said, the texture worked surprisingly well as the thicker skin crisped nicely while the interior stayed juicy.
6. Final Review
The biggest surprise of this reconstruction was just how big these dumplings turned out – many required at least three bites to finish. Their size, texture, and weight felt much more aligned with what I had read about northern-style dumplings being robust, filling, and meant for cold winters. In fact, going through the southern reconstruction first may have been the perfect setup; the wrapper thickness that felt slightly off in the southern version worked beautifully here. It also highlighted how technique and context matter – what might be too heavy for a dainty dim sum becomes ideal for a hearty northern dish. Interestingly, despite using more seasoning overall, I found the final taste still a bit under seasoned – perhaps a reflection of my own habits from growing up in a household where subtlety and lightness were prized. That realization alone reminded me how much regional taste can shape our internal sense of balance, even when we're trying to step outside it. As it was less flavorful then I hoped, I ended up pairing it with soy sauce and black vinegar which was just enough to make it taste perfect.
7. Reflections and Possibilities for Improvement
Reconstructing the northern-style dumplings helped me better appreciate how form and flavor serve different functions depending on regional context. While the size and sturdiness of the wrappers felt appropriate for this style, I would like to try boiling as a cooking method. The thicker dough and beef filling are well-suited to being boiled, which would soften the texture and create a more traditional northern-style bite. Pan-frying still produced a satisfying result, but it may have distracted slightly from the hearty, comforting character that boiled jiaozi often delivers in the north.
Another area I’d revisit is the seasoning. Even though I made a conscious effort to add more soy sauce, salt, and hoisin to reflect the bolder northern palate, the end result still leaned milder than expected. Next time, I would push the seasoning even further, perhaps incorporating stronger aromatics and seasonings. This would help the filling stand out more and fully align with the rich, robust flavor that defines this regional style.
Lastly, I am curious if any results would have changed had I started this recipe first. Due to recreating the southern-style dumplings prior, I definitely had gained some tacit knowledge into my second trial. Making the dough was faster, folding was faster, knowing how many ingredients I really needed – these were all factors that had changed just by initiating the experiment once. In fact, I think recreating this northern style would have actually pushed me to fold smaller and thinner dough for southern-style inherently.
Beyond the Binary: Comparison with Dim Sum and Regional Variations of Jiaozi
While this project focused on the contrast between northern and southern-style jiaozi, it’s important to note that not all southern dumplings fall neatly into the same category. Dumplings like har gow (shrimp dumplings) and other classic dim sum dishes are made with rice flour or tapioca-based wrappers, resulting in a translucent, chewy texture that sets them apart entirely from the wheat-based wrappers used in both northern and southern jiaozi [9]. Though these dumplings also originate from southern China — especially Guangdong — they belong to a different culinary lineage tied closely to Cantonese dim sum culture. These dishes often emphasize delicacy, precision, and aesthetics, with fillings that include seafood, bamboo shoots, and other finely textured ingredients [9]. Unlike jiaozi, which are more commonly associated with home cooking or seasonal celebrations, dim sum dumplings are part of a refined tea house tradition and have a different cultural and social context. Comparing them directly to jiaozi would overlook the distinct techniques, ingredients, and regional traditions that define each category.
Additionally, beyond the well-known north-south divide, jiaozi also take on unique forms in other regions of China, each reflecting local ingredients, cultural influences, and historical contexts. In western China, for example, regions like Sichuan and Yunnan introduce bold flavors into their dumplings like spicy chili oil, Sichuan peppercorns, and sour or fermented vegetables, whichshowcase the region’s love for heat and tang [10]. In the northeast, Dongbei-style dumplings often incorporate lamb or beef, along with fillings like dill or suan cai (pickled cabbage), shaped by both Russian and Korean culinary influences along the border [11]. Even within provinces, different cities and families have their own folding techniques, dipping sauces, and traditions for when and how jiaozi are served. These regional distinctions remind us that jiaozi, far from being a standardized national dish, are incredibly diverse that are shaped by microclimates, migration patterns, and localized taste preferences.
Conclusion: What Dumplings Reveal
This project began with a simple dish – jiaozi – but quickly unfolded into something much more layered. What I initially saw as a familiar food turned out to be a powerful lens for examining cultural identity, regional history, and the deeply embedded assumptions behind how we interpret tradition. In reconstructing both southern- and northern-style dumplings, I wasn't just following recipes, but was engaging with questions of authorship, class, memory, and geography. The differences in folding, seasoning, texture, and even meat choice revealed how something as small as a dumpling can hold centuries of cultural meaning.
Yuan Mei’s The Way of Eating was central to this process. The text’s brevity forced me to read between the lines, to imagine what wasn’t written, and to reflect on what that silence meant. Its assumptions – about who the reader was, what they knew, and how they cooked – exposed the gap between elite Qing dynasty culinary culture and my own modern experience. At times, I found that gap frustrating. But more often, I found it revealing. It reminded me that historical texts are not instruction manuals; they are artifacts shaped by their social and cultural moment. To cook from such a text is to enter into a dialogue with the past, with the author, and with my own place in the long arc of Chinese culinary tradition.
In comparing my reconstructions, I saw firsthand how climate, agriculture, migration, and even religion have shaped regional foodways across China. But I also saw how those differences play out in personal experience. My instinct to season lightly, my preference for thinner dough, and my comfort with certain textures were all informed by a southern-style upbringing – even if I had never thought of it that way before. The act of making northern-style dumplings didn’t just teach me new techniques; it helped me recognize the quiet ways my own culinary identity has been shaped over time.
Ultimately, this experiment was not just cooking but rather an experiment in interpretation. It challenged me to think critically about sources, to navigate between tradition and adaptation, and to appreciate how food can preserve memory while still evolving across generations. Dumplings, I’ve learned, aren’t just about what goes inside them. They’re about what surrounds them too: culture, history, geography, and identity that are folded together in every bite.
References
[1] Yuan Mei. The Way of Eating: Yuan Mei’s Manual of Gastronomy. Trans. Sean J. S. Kerr, Berkshire Publishing Group, 2019.
[2] Times, G. ‘The way of eating’: ‘bible’ for cooking Chinese food by ancient gastronome, Global Times. Available at: https://www.globaltimes.cn/page/202212/1282650.shtml#:~:text=With%20a%20collection%20of%20326,Dynasty%20(1644%2D1911).
[3] Chen, S.J. (2021) Appetizers 11: ‘Dianbuleng’ (顛不棱), Sean J.S. Chen. Available at: https://wayoftheeating.wordpress.com/2021/10/18/appetizers-11-dianbuleng-%E9%A1%9B%E4%B8%8D%E6%A3%B1/ (Accessed: 05 May 2025).
[4] Regional distinctions of dumplings (no date) Mi BOWL MEAL. Available at: https://mibowlmeal.com/blogs/mi-bowl-meal-news/regional-distinctions-of-dumplings?srsltid=AfmBOoplNAjhF7e2xq6qcie6bc-o1OgfnUhW0AN_mFwQ2a5hx6VRb5DR (Accessed: 05 May 2025).
[5] Zhang, L. (2019) A scrutiny of ‘dumplings’-north vs south, The Oxford Student. Available at: https://www.oxfordstudent.com/2019/10/14/a-scrutiny-of-dumplings-north-vs-south/ (Accessed: 05 May 2025).
[6] Lin, L. (2023) How to make dumpling wrappers, Healthy Nibbles by Lisa Lin. Available at: https://healthynibblesandbits.com/how-to-make-dumpling-wrappers/ (Accessed: 05 May 2025).
[7] Dad’s : A Chinese chef’s secrets. Dad’s : A Chinese Chef’s Secrets (Video)! Available at: https://www.madewithlau.com/recipes/potstickers (Accessed: 05 May 2025).
[8] Wei, C. et al. (2024) A brief introduction to Muslim chinese food, VICE. Available at: https://www.vice.com/en/article/a-brief-introduction-to-muslim-chinese-food/ (Accessed: 05 May 2025).
[9] Carter, O. (2025) Chinese dumplings guide: 8 most popular types of the dim sum staple, Types of Chinese Dumplings | Institute of Culinary Education. Available at: https://www.ice.edu/blog/types-chinese-dumplings (Accessed: 05 May 2025).
[10] Guo, W. (2023) Szechuan dumplings (Zhong Shui Jiao/钟水饺), Red House Spice. Available at: https://redhousespice.com/sichuan-dumplings/ (Accessed: 05 May 2025).
[11] Li, N. (2020) Northeastern style dumplings with three fresh stuffings (三鲜馅饺子), Recipes from the Houston Asian American Archive. Available at: https://haaacookbook.wordpress.com/2020/05/09/northeastern-style-dumplings-with-three-fresh-stuffings-%E4%B8%89%E9%B2%9C%E9%A6%85%E9%A5%BA%E5%AD%90/ (Accessed: 05 May 2025).
