Corinne Trang

wonton noodle soup with choy sum and scallions

A Steaming Bowl of Wonton Noodle Soup with Choy Sum and Scallions…

I’ve been going to Wonton Garden, a small noodle shop in Manhattan’s Chinatown, since I moved to New York City from my quaint little hometown of Blois, France over 30 years ago.  Located on Mott, the neighborhood’s busiest street, the shop has always had a window glass façade where the cook can be seen turning out wonton soup after wonton soup for hours on any given day. So enticing is watching this man cooking that I’ve gone in for a serving of these delightful morsels more times than I can count…and every time I go back, sit down at a table, and order a steaming bowl of wontons in broth, I am instantly reminded of my first encounter with the place.

fresh wonton, photo by Christopher Hirsheimer

I visited New York City for the first time in 1978 during what was to be my summer vacation. (That summer vacation turned out to be a permanent situation!) My father, Minh, had been working in Manhattan’s Chinatown since 1977, and my mother decided that my brothers and I should make the trip from France to visit him. It had been almost a year since we had seen him. He had moved here to help his childhood friend Anh, my “uncle,” who had a wholesale produce business in a building on Lafayette at the corner of Delancey, and just south of the small and somewhat triangular-shaped Cleveland Park. And while today the tiniest block in Manhattan where this building stands is now home to a Mexican restaurant on one side, a furniture store on the other, and a Spanish specialty food shop on the next, back then it was my father’s workplace, a huge warehouse full of Asian vegetables in crates, moved around on fork lifts and stacked up high.

step 1, photo by Christopher Hirsheimer

While Dad worked, my mother would drag us kids around town to visit all the major attractions the Big Apple had to offer. For hours we would stand on long lines for the chance to go up the Statue of Liberty, the Chrysler building, the Empire State building, and the Twin Towers. But my favorite part about being in the city was that eventually I knew we’d meet up with Dad for a great meal or some fun snack in a bakery. We could be eating the deliciously crispy skin of a Peking duck, indulging in a fresh-out-of-the-fish-tank seafood dinner, having a simple sweet roast pork bun golden-baked and just out of the oven or spongy white direct from the steamer…or freshly made wontons, one of my all time favorite foods.

On the way to Wonton Garden, my father would get excited. “It’s the best wontons, and for a couple of bucks, you can’t beat it,” he would say with a smile, making the point that he had arrived in the U.S. with $100 in his pocket, a story he tells over and over again to this day. Having worked hard all his life in order to live comfortably he appreciated good value…but he also loved home-cooked meals, something he had been missing since leaving France, and Chinatown was full of family-run restaurants offering all sorts of comfort food he longed for.

step 2, photo by Christopher Hirsheimer

When we finally reached the restaurant, the first thing we did as a family was to stand in front of it, watching the cook in action. First he would add wontons in a huge vat of boiling water. After a couple of minutes, using a Chinese long-handled “spider” strainer, he would then transfer them to a large soup bowl, which sometimes (upon request and for a more filling meal) also contained thin long egg noodles he had cook in the same boiling water. With a large ladle, the cook would then pour the piping hot broth over the wontons. He was so fast that some of the broth would spill off the sides of the bowl. (As a result of watching this cook as a kid, I’ve always appreciated open kitchens, especially the action that goes on in them.) And now it was time to go in…

step 3, photo by Christopher Hirsheimer

Once seated, the waiters gave a performance of their own. Everything was rushed as they walked around screaming the orders across the dining room to the cooks, while seating and serving people. This was no fine French dining experience, but it was just as exciting. And though the waiters may not have been the most courteous people to deal with, the distinct aroma of sesame oil permeating the air, making my mouth water instantly, would turn my attention away from them and toward the food. What I loved most about that experience was listening to the excitement in my father’s voice as he ordered a round of wonton soup for the family. As we were served, my father would go on to describe the meal we were about to enjoy…the wontons made with the “perfect“ amount of naturally sweet pork and shrimp filling, wrapped in the “perfect“ delicate skin, served in the “perfect“ light chicken broth perfumed with roasted sesame oil, and garnished with the “perfect“ amount of thinly sliced bright green scallions and choy sum, a long-stemmed leafy green vegetable. He would also point to the “perfect“ fried red chunky chili oil, adding a small amount to the broth. Piping hot, we would eat the wontons with gusto, sipping the broth in between each bite to clear our palates.

The Wonton Garden was the very first restaurant I went to in Chinatown, and when I go back occasionally or I make wontons at home, I get nostalgic and all I want to do is share this overwhelming feeling I call “food joy” with friends (see recipe below).

CT’S  FAMILY WONTON RECIPE – adapted from Essentials of Asian Cuisine (Simon & Schuster, 2003) and Noodles Every Day (Chronicle, 2009)

Serves 6

2 teaspoons dark sesame oil
2 tablespoons thin soy sauce
1 tablespoon tapioca starch or cornstarch
Freshly ground black pepper
1-1/2 pounds small headless tiger shrimp, peeled, deveined, and minced
8 ounces coarsely ground pork
72 square (or round) dumpling wrappers

1)   In a bowl, stir together the sesame oil, soy sauce, and tapioca starch until well blended. Season with pepper to taste, add the shrimp and pork, and mix thoroughly.

2)   Take a wrapper and put a heaping teaspoon of pork mixture in the center. Dab the edge lightly with water and seal to form a triangle (or half-moon if using a round wrapper). Bring the two ends together, dabbing each with water and pressing firmly. Place on a lightly floured cookie sheet, and continue making wontons with the remaining filling and wrappers. Be sure to place the wontons in a single layer, keeping them separated.

3)   Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat, and cook the wontons until they float to the top, about 3 minutes. Using a slotted spoon transfer and divide the wontons among 6 large soup bowls. At this time you can eat them as you would all sorts of dumplings, with soy sauce and chili sauce on the side for dipping. Or serve them in chicken broth (see below)

CT’S QUICK ASIAN CHICKEN BROTH: put a 2 to 3 pound whole chicken in a large stock pot, with 5 bruised scallions and 1 ounce (about 1 inch) piece of thinly sliced fresh ginger. Add water to the pot and up to 1-inch from the top. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a low and simmer until reduced by 1/3, 3 to 4 hours. Strain, discarding the solids. Pour over wontons, and garnish each serving with some sliced fresh scallions.

CT’S FRIED WONTONS: an American-Chinese restaurant favorite is the fried wonton. Heat a small-medium pot filled halfway with oil over medium heat. Working in batches fry the wontons until golden crisp and done on the inside, about 2 minutes. Drain on paper-lined plate and serve with soy sauce and chili sauce on the side.