December, Diner, dumplings

The winter solstice, finally the shortest day of the year.

The shortest day? Perhaps, with the shortest day and the longest night. But long nights make the day seem long and slow. That's why, on a long night, there's a dish you can prepare with your family, eat painfully and make the time pass in one go.

Eating dumplings is not a luxury, preparing them is. Even If the dumplings sold in restaurants are pretty, they will never be as good as those that are perhaps a little less sophisticated, but homemade.

It's a taste of emotion and dedication. After a year of hard work, a meal of your own homemade ravioli, eaten hot, is the best kind of relief.

Because it's the heart that's most tired. When the heart is relieved, the body's discomfort is often largely removed.

Let the heart rest.

There's something unexpected and intimate about this image. Pressing the dough into rounds was a task I undertook because it was the easiest in the whole process of making ravioli.

The shiny white dumplings have a slippery outer skin, like a fish sliding down your throat. After three or four of them, a fine sweat oozes from your head and you feel very comfortable in your body.

Eating dumplings is not just a food habit, it's also a heart-warming family ritual. At the winter solstice, when we get together as a family and prepare and eat dumplings, we feel right at home.

These days, when you can buy dumplings at any time, we think even harder about dumplings time. This ritual is perhaps no longer linked to material things, but to the will of the whole family. The will to sit down together, to get rid of the mobile phone, to concentrate on the present moment, to immerse oneself in the home, to spend some quality time with the darlings.

Today in China, we really miss this devoted attention to the moment together as a family and this will. It's difficult to get so much attention in one place at once.

Don't rush to swallow the dumpling. Take your time.

That's what Grandfather used to say.

In every household, Chinese ravioli are distinguished by their unique shape, shaped according to the mood and skill of the person preparing them. But what's even more fascinating is the variety of sauces in which they are dipped, each family having its own secret blend.

Vinegar: black and white vinegars are very popular, and it's not unusual to add a little chopped garlic to enhance the flavor.

Soy sauce: this gives ravioli its characteristic saltiness, often mixed with vinegar.

Chili oil: those who prefer spicy flavors opt for chili oil, which is particularly common in south-west China.

Sesame paste: in some regions, particularly in the north-east, sesame paste is a popular sauce, usually combined with vinegar and soy sauce.

Garlic puree: typically mixed with vinegar or soy sauce, garlic purée adds flavor and a hint of spiciness.

Chopped ginger: in some regions, chopped ginger is a key ingredient, especially to accompany seafood or fish ravioli.

Coriander: sometimes chopped coriander is added for a touch of freshness.

Hot sauce: This is used for its uniquely spicy flavor.

Where I come from, the sauce of choice is vinegar. I can still remember it today, you can always find it in the supermarket, rice vinegar in grey square plastic packaging, so flexible it looks like a pocket.

Once they'd been bought, my grandfather would open one corner of this square packaging and pour the condiment into a white can, probably left over from a mineral water bottle. In those days, we saved money on everything, and bottles of all sorts of drinks became the homes for vinegar and soy sauce.

What's your favorite sauce? Do you add grated ginger?