Jiaozi 饺子

Bottled up in this entirely strange ritual is my status as a Chinese American. It is unclear to me where I ever came up with the idea that dumplings should be cut in half, or that the meat would taste better with ketchup (particularly since this is literally the only time that I use ketchup). Perhaps this combination has something to do with the fact that since both my parents grew up in the States, we’ve embraced many American traditions while abandoning or significantly modifying many Chinese ones. But even so, I have always embraced my Chinese culture and heritage. It gives me something larger to cling to when I’m feeling ostracized by American culture for looking “different.” The suburb I grew up in is mostly white, but it’s not as if I didn’t have Chinese people around me; after all, there was always Chinatown. But Chinatown was full of people who spoke the language—whether Cantonese or Mandarin—who somehow just seemed so much more Chinese than I ever could be. And perhaps that’s true. Maybe that’s why I feel so gosh-darned American when I eat my dumplings with ketchup while holding my chopsticks “incorrectly.” The notion that this somehow takes away from my ability to identify with Chinese culture is, I rationally understand, flawed. But in my pursuit to try and discover who I am, it’s taken an oddly large place...eating dumplings in my own style has become the hyphen between Chinese and American in my identity.”  -Lily Wong

Clearly, jiaozi have come to exist as something more than just a crescent-shaped dumpling eaten a few times a year.  More than 2,000 years old, they likely traveled across the Eurasian plain before reaching Northern China. Thus, jiaozi are a folkloric and cultural relic, deeply embedded in history.  They are a family activity, a harbinger of good fortune, a signifier of longstanding Chinese tradition, and for some, a hyphen of identity.