King Tsin. That's where it all started. I'd call for a double order (that was ten) at 8:30 pm and drive over to pick them up before closing in order to enjoy this delicious snack while finishing my homework. That was high school and Northern California where there seems to be an abundance of good Chinese restaurants. Imagine my dismay after moving to Montana to find that there are ZERO good Chinese restaurants.
Enter Caixia. One of my first friends in Bozeman. The Chinese wife of an American grad student at MSU. She invited me over for an authentic Chinese meal and that was the beginning of a beautiful, fattening friendship. She offered to teach me how to make potstickers. We started having regular cooking days in order to create bags and bags of these luscious morsels.
Now, I love them so much that I make excuses to share them with others. The picture is from a day off with my kids last week that we spent the morning folding the soft, homemade dough around the mixture of pork, mushrooms, onions and ginger. I've also shared the experience with my brother and his family, the Young Women in my ward and 60 or so middle school kids last year. You might say that I've become an addict. My husband says they need to be marketed -- something like "Vewy Dewicious Wice Dumplings".
