Boeuf Bourguignon

Had I never watched "Julie and Julia," I never would have been interested in cooking this recipe. But since I did watch the movie and it was a central focus of the plot, and also because I've gotten used to taking on recipes that look incredibly difficult, I dove in this one head first. It took hours - literally. With prep, stove time and oven time, it was about a five hour process. But the results were amazing, beautiful and a feast for both the eyes and the mouth. Seriously, this was fantastic and I'd do it over again in a heartbeat.

Boeuf Bourguignon

Ingredients
1 6-ounce chunk of bacon
1 9- to 10-inch fireproof casserole 3 inches deep
1 tablespoon olive oil or cooking oil
1 slotted spoon
3 pounds lean stewing beef cut into 2-inch cubes
1 sliced carrot
1 sliced onion
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
2 tablespoons flour
3 cups of a full-bodied young red wine such as one of those suggested for serving or a Chianti
2-3 cups brown beef stock or canned beef bouillon
1 tablespoon tomato paste
2 cloves mashed garlic
1/2 teaspoon thyme
a crumbled bay leaf
the blanched bacon rind
18-24 small white onions (brown-braised in stock)
1 pound quartered fresh mushrooms sauteed in butter
parsley sprigs

Directions
Remove rind and cut bacon into lardons (sticks, 1/4-inch thick and 1 1/2-inches long). Simmer rind and bacon for 10 minutes in 1 1/2 quarts of water. Drain and dry.

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

Saute the bacon in the oil over moderate heat for 2 to 3 minutes to brown lightly. Remove to a side dish with a slotted spoon. Set casserole aside. Reheat until fat is almost smoking before you saute the beef.

Dry the beef in paper towels; it will not brown if it is damp. Saute it, a few pieces at a time, in the hot oil and bacon fat until nicely browned on all sides. Add it to the bacon.
In the same fat, brown the sliced vegetables. Pour out the sauteing fat.

Return the beef and bacon to the casserole and toss with the salt and pepper. Then sprinkle on the flour and toss again to coat the beef lightly with the flour. Set casserole uncovered in middle position of preheated oven for 4 minutes. Toss the meat and return to oven for 4 minutes more. (This browns the flour and covers the meat with a light crust.) Remove casserole and turn oven down to 325 degrees.

Stir in the wine and enough stock or bouillon so that the meat is barely covered. Add the tomato paste, garlic, herbs and bacon rind. Bring to simmer on top of the stove. Then cover the casserole and set in lower third of preheated oven. Regulate heat so liquid simmers very slowly for 2 1/2 to 3 hours. The meat is done when a fork pierces it easily.

While the beef is cooking, prepare the onions and mushrooms. Set them aside until needed.

When the meat is tender, pour the contents of the casserole into a sieve set over a saucepan. Wash out the casserole and return the beef and bacon to it. Distribute the cooked onions and mushrooms over the meat.

Skim fat off the sauce. Simmer sauce for a minute or two, skimming off additional fat as it rises. You should have about 2 - 2 1/2 cups of sauce thick enough to coat a spoon lightly. If too thin, boil it down rapidly. If too thick, mix in a few tablespoons of stock or canned bouillon. Taste carefully for seasoning. Pour the sauce over the meat and vegetables.

(*) Recipe may be completed in advance to this point.

FOR IMMEDIATE SERVING

Cover the casserole and simmer for 2 to 3 minutes, basting the meat and vegetables with the sauce several times. Serve in its casserole, or arrange the stew on a platter surrounded with potatoes, noodles or rice, and decorated with parsley.

FOR LATER SERVING

When cold, cover and refrigerate. About 15 to 20 minutes before serving, bring to the simmer, cover and simmer very slowly for 10 minutes, occasionally basting the meat and vegetables with the sauce.

VEGETABLE AND WINE SUGGESTIONS

Boiled potatoes are traditionally served with this dish. Buttered noodles or steamed rice may be substituted. If you also wish a green vegetable, buttered peas would be your best choice. Serve with the beef a fairly full-bodied, young red wine, such as Beaujolais, Cotes du Rhone, Bourdeaux-St. Emilion or Burgundy.

Yes, this is the entire recipe. Like I said, this was difficult and I wasn't immediately sure where to begin since there was so much involved.

First, the bacon. I couldn't find the chunk of bacon with the rind, most likely big thick slab bacon. I just used regular packaged breakfast bacon and I think it turned out fine. The bacon is by no means the star of the dish, or even part of the supporting cast, but it's still important enough to have this level of attention devoted to it. I cut the bacon into small pieces and readied my pot with some water and dumped the bacon in there to simmer. And you know what that created, kids? Bacon water! Yes, it was bacon flavored water. No, I didn't drink any of it, but still, the kitchen smelled like bacon and it was fabulous. Think of all the stuff that could be made better with bacon! Bacon ice cream, bacon flavored chocolate, bacon bourbon! Oh, lovely bacon. You make me happy.

The recipe calls for lean stew beef, and the closest thing I found at the store was a really nice chuck roast. Very lean and it still didn't dry out at the end of the cooking process. I cubed the meat and patted them dry to promote browning.





And then the meat went into my cast iron pot, about five pieces at a time. I didn't want to crowd the pot and I needed to give each piece of meat ample space to brown properly.





Once all of the meat was browned, it went off to the side while I browned my sliced onions – not the pearl onions – and sliced carrots in my pot. I added the cubed, browned beef back to the pot with the bacon, tossed with flour, and put it into the 450˚ oven – which is hot! – for four minutes. The buzzer went off, I tossed the meat a little in the pot, the back into the oven for four more minutes. The pot came out again and I lowered the heat to a more respectable 325˚. My kitchen smells fabulous at this point, but it’s also hot as hell in there!

At this point, the Husband has wandered into the kitchen to see where I am in this monumental process. He approves of the smells emanating from the oven and agrees this is heading in the right direction. Then he sees me adding in the next batch of ingredients and he suddenly starts to give me a weird look. A look that says, “I’m not really sure about this anymore…” I’ll tell you why he gave me that look a little later.

This recipe calls for a lot of wine – three cups. The Husband purchased a large bottle of Macaroni Grill Chianti which was delicious. That’s a key rule – never cook with wine you wouldn’t otherwise drink. So I dumped three cups of Chianti into the pot, added some stock to just barely cover the meat, then the tomato paste, herbs and garlic. As for the bacon rind, I just didn’t have it. So… I didn’t add it. I don’t think it made a huge difference, but then again, I’ve only made this dish one time. So what do I know?

After everything went into the oven for its three hour sauna, I started the prep for my pearl onions. Even though the onions are part of the Boeuf Bourguignon recipe, they are actually separate. Here is the recipe straight from Julia’s cookbook:

Brown Braised Onions

18 to 24 peeled white onions about 1 inch in diameter
1½ Tb butter
1½ Tb oil
½ cup of brown stock, canned beef bouillon, dry white wine, red wine, or water
Salt and pepper to taste
A medium herb bouquet: 4 parsley sprigs, ½ bay leaf, and ¼ tsp thyme, tied in cheesecloth

Directions
When the butter and oil are bubbling in the skillet, add the onions and sauté over moderate heat for about 10 minutes, rolling the onions about so they will brown as evenly as possible. Be careful not to break their skins. You cannot expect to brown them uniformly.

Then either braise them as follows:

Pour in the liquid, season to taste, and add the herb bouquet. Cover and simmer slowly for 40 to 50 minutes until the onions are perfectly tender but retain their shape, and the liquid has evaporated. Remove herb bouquet. Serve them as they are, or follow one of the suggestions at the end of the recipe.

Or bake them as follows:

Transfer the onions and their sautéing fat to a shallow baking dish or casserole just large enough to hold them in one layer. Set uncovered in upper third of a preheated 350-degree oven for 40 to 50 minutes, turning them over once or twice. They should be very tender, retain their shape, and be a nice golden brown. Remove herb bouquet.

The onions may be cooked hours in advance, and reheated before serving.

I had never worked with pearl onions before and I was convinced I wouldn’t end up using all of the onions I bought – they were in a bag of about 20 or so. I didn’t want the dish to be too onion-y tasting and in my experience, 20 onions, regardless of the size, would cause that to happen. But, obeying Julia, I went ahead with the recipe and began to peel them as best I could. Those little paper skins stuck to my fingers and made a sizeable mess, but in the end they all came out very nicely.




I opted to use the stovetop braising method since my oven was already occupied. These little beauties went into the pan with copious amounts of butter and oil, along with beef stock (my liquid of choice) and herbs. That’s another thing – the French sure know what they’re doing when it comes to cooking. I have never used so much butter and oil in a dish before and it made everything taste and smell so good. According to Williams Sonoma, the combination of butter and oil is because the butter provides flavor but will burn at a relatively low heat, while the oil can withstand a higher heat and therefore allows the butter to be heated to a higher temperature. This method also does a great job browning the onions without burning them. They also break down a little during the cooking process which makes them more tender and able to soak up a lot of the flavor. Also, after 40 minutes of cooking, the natural sugars have emerged and those little onions are now as sweet as can be! They are brown and delicious and tender and I had a hard time not going ahead and sampling one right then and there.




See how good these look? And this isn’t the final product. They continued to reach a deeper brown color and soaked up every bit of that flavor.


Next, the mushrooms. Again, this recipe is separate from the Boeuf Bourguignon recipe.

Sautéed Mushrooms

2 Tb butter
1 Tb oil
½ lb fresh mushrooms, washed, well dried, left whole if small, sliced or quartered if large
Optional: 1 to 2 Tb minced shallots or green onions
Salt and pepper

Directions
Place the skillet over high heat with the butter and oil. As soon as you see that the butter foam has begun to subside, indicating it is hot enough, add the mushrooms. Toss and shake the pan for 4 to 5 minutes. During their sauté the mushrooms will at first absorb the fat. In 2 to 3 minutes the fat will reappear on their surface, and the mushrooms will begin to brown. As soon as they have browned lightly, remove from heat.

Toss the shallots or green onions with the mushrooms. Sauté over moderate heat for 2 minutes.

Sautéed mushrooms may be cooked in advance, set aside, then reheated when needed. Season to taste just before serving.

Use these mushrooms either as a vegetable alone or in a combination with other vegetables, or as an integral part of such dishes as coq au vin, boeuf bourguignon, poulet en cocotte. Successfully sautéed mushrooms are lightly browned and exude none of their juice while they are being cooked; to achieve this the mushrooms must be dry, the butter very hot, and the mushrooms must not be crowded in the pan. If you sauté too many at once they steam rather than fry; their juices escape and they do not brown. So if you are preparing a large amount, or if your heat source is feeble, sauté the mushrooms in several batches.

This last part in italics is an admonition from Julia to ensure the proper way of sautéing mushrooms, or anything really. It was news to me, so I’m glad I had this extra bit of information. So into a pan go more butter and oil:






And then the mushrooms went into the pan. My heat isn’t feeble, but my pan isn’t that large. Looking at my picture now, I realize I probably still put too many shrooms into the pan at once. I should have broken then down into smaller batches. But as I cooked them, they adhered pretty closely to the above description where there wouldn’t be any excess juice and they did brown well, so I guess it turned out well after all.





Yep, I would say they turned out just fine.

Before I know it, three hours have passed and my house smells like le Cordon Bleu on graduation day. The Husband has gravitated back to the kitchen to see the finished product and as I take the lid off, the smell almost knocks me off my feet – but in a good way! I wish I had taken a photo of this step. The sauce had reduced to a thick, rich version of its former self and it was a deep reddish-brown. The meat had retained its shape and was visually falling apart in the pot. I happened to notice the Husband has brought his earlier “I’m not really sure about this anymore…” look back to life and is hovering over my shoulder while I fawn over my intoxicating concoction. Brushing him off, I picked up the other pot where I had just finished boiling up some egg noodles and began plating everything. The onions and mushrooms went into the pot and I stirred everything to mix. Noodles on the plate, Boeuf Bourguignon on the plate.

Admittedly, I did skip a large step here. The recipe calls for the casserole contents to be dumped into a sieve over a stock pot, ideally so the solids stay in the sieve and the liquid falls into the sauce pot. Then the pot should be washed out, the solids returned to the pot and the sauce simmered in a separate pot, then again combining the two. What? Huh? Why in the world would you do that? First of all, that cast iron pot just came out of a hot oven after baking for three plus hours. Don’t you think it will take some time to cool down before it can be washed? Second, do you not think the step of washing the pot would erase an untold amount of taste and complexity from the dish? And third, why bother? I don’t pretend to know what was going through the authors’ collective heads when they wrote this recipe, but I’m not following. This step seems like a huge waste of taste and time so I just didn’t do it. That’s how I roll.






And here it is. We even used the good china! In a combination of astonishment, slight arrogance and downright giddiness, I can’t help but say “I can’t believe I did this!” in between every bite. The meat was fork tender – and when I say this, I realize that a lot of cuts of meat can be fork tender. But this was different. Just putting the tines into a piece of meat and turning the fork slightly resulted in an entire hunk of meat separating from itself with no effort. The fibers in the meat had almost completely disappeared, even though this was a seriously lean cut of meat to begin with. The rich sauce thickly coated everything it touched, but it didn’t weigh the dish down. It didn’t become goopy or anything like that. The flavors had melded so well and combined perfectly. Which brings me back to the husband’s “I’m not really sure about this anymore…” look. He tells me this as we’re both devouring the meal. When he first saw me add so much wine, his first concern was that the entire dish would have an overpowering wine taste. But I can say that was absolutely not the case. Neither of us could detect a taste of the wine – the flavors had come together that well. The reduction likely strengthened the flavor but also helped to break it down. I can’t say for sure, I’m just opining. His second concern was the addition of so much liquid. He felt for sure that amount of liquid – remember, it came all the way up to the level of the meat in the pot – would result in boiling the meat and cause it to be tough and leathery. Neither was the case. The acid in the wine likely contributed to the meat being so tender and helping to break down the fibers. Again, just my opinion.

The end result is an amazing dish that I can add to my “I had no idea I could cook stuff like this” list. Seriously, I have determined that as long as it has directions, I can make it. Just follow the stinking directions et voila, I have a masterpiece. This is off the charts. Thanks Julia.

Basil, Sage, Cheese and Tomatoes with Rice – High Summer Risotto

Risotto, you evil temptress of the night. You appear to be easily conquered, at least on paper, but you are devilish in your culinary trickery. Your tasteful sophistication and Italian background lured me in, but I was caught in your snares within minutes of diving into your menacing cuisine. Oh, risotto, you have won this battle, but mark my dying words, you most certainly have not won the war.

BASIL, SAGE, CHEESE AND TOMATOES WITH RICE - HIGH SUMMER RISOTTO

Tuscany
Preparation - Medium/Difficult
Serves 8

1 medium white onion, finely chopped
1/4 cup finely chopped basil, plus 2 T slivered basil leaves
1/4 cup finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
2 T finely chopped sage
2 T extra virgin olive oil
2 cups Arborio, carnaroli, or vialone nano rice
salt and freshly ground white pepper to taste
1/2 cup dry white wine
2 1/2 cups peeled, seeded, and chopped perfectly ripe, sweet, fresh tomatoes
1 cup hot chicken stock, or more if necessary
1/2 cup freshly grated Pecorino Toscano or Parmigiano-Reggiano
2 cloves garlic, finely minced

In a large heavy saucepan over medium-low heat, sweat the onion with the finely chopped basil (the slivered basil will be added later), parsley, and sage in the oil until the vegetables are very soft. Do not let them brown. Mix the rice into the vegetables and add salt and pepper. Stir slowly and when rice starts to turn opaque pour in the wine.

As soon as most of the wine has been absorbed by the rice, add about half the tomatoes to the dish, stirring to mix well. Continue to cook the rice, stirring frequently; as the liquid in the tomatoes is absorbed, add hot chicken stock, 1/4 cup at a time. (You may not need all the chicken stock to finish the risotto.) The risotto is cooked when the grains of rice are still separate and slightly resistant to the bite but bathed in a thick sauce.

At this point remove the pan from the heat and quickly stir in the cheese, the remaining tomatoes, the slivered basil, and minced garlic. Cover and let rest for 10 minutes, then serve immediately.

So what I'm really trying to say in the above soliloquy is that when a recipe says "Difficult," they're usually not kidding. But I had two other recipes I thought would be difficult - this one and this one - and they still turned out really well. So while I didn't think this risotto would be a breeze, I certainly didn't think it would be as ornery as it actually turned out. It wasn't a colossal failure like other recipes, but it definitely needs some fine tuning.

It actually started well. I put this recipe into thirds since I was only cooking for myself, so I broke down the measurements and was ready to rock. I have had only one other run in with risotto and I knew the liquid would make or break the dish, so I made sure to have a whole can of chicken stock, plus additional white wine. I felt I had covered all my bases.

What I didn't anticipate was that my risotto had every intention of soaking up every last drop of liquid I had in the house. I used an entire 15 oz can of chicken broth, and at least 1/2 cup of white wine, plus some tap water. I know, blasphemy. But I was desperate. Even after adding in all of that liquid and standing over the risotto constantly stirring for an hour, the grains were still more than "slightly resistant to the bite," and they were not "bathed in a thick sauce." I had more white wine to use, but I didn't want that flavor to overwhelm the dish, so that's when I turned to the tap water (so shameful). I think I eventually could have reached the risotto promised land, but I didn't have the desire to wait it out. I finally added the cheese, tomatoes, basil and garlic and plated it up.




The grains were still dense, but I could get the general taste of the dish. It was pretty rich and I can't imagine eating a whole lot by itself. It would be a great side dish. If I had one more can of chicken stock I think I could have pulled it off, but for some reason I only had that one can. I usually have army rations of the stuff in our pantry, but it just was not meant to be. But again, with some modifications and more liquid, this has a real shot of being something nice.

Potato and Ricotta Gnocchi with Bolognese Sauce

This was another one of those "What the hell am I thinking" kind of recipes. It looks very intimidating, it's a totally unfamiliar cooking concept, and it requires a certain exactness in measurements that I simply don't seem to possess. But yet again, here I am staring down a recipe I am determined to make and I am not about to let anything stop me.

Potato and Ricotta Gnocchi with Bolognese Sauce
8 restaurant servings

For gnocchi:
• 1 pound Yukon Gold potatoes
• 1 pound ricotta cheese
• 5 egg yolks
• 1 tablespoon kosher salt
• 6 ounces all-purpose flour – by weight – plus more for dusting
• 1 1/2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese

For sauce:
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1/2 onion, small dice
• 2 stalks celery, small dice
• 1 carrot, small dice
• 1 bay leaf
• 2 pounds ground beef
• 2 pounds ground pork
• 1/4 cup red wine
• 1/2 cup chicken broth
• 1 tablespoon kosher salt
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 cup tomato puree
• 1 tablespoon tomato paste

DIRECTIONS
For sauce:
Heat olive oil in large sauté pan until it just begins to smoke. Add pork and beef and sauté until golden brown and cooked through. Break large chunks with a wooden spoon. Remove cooked meat with a slotted spoon and pour off all but 1 tablespoon of liquid left behind.

Return pan to heat and when it just begins to smoke add vegetables and sauté until golden brown. Remove vegetables from pan and pour off remaining liquid.

Return pan to heat and add red wine, scraping bits from the bottom of the pan. Continue cooking wine until it reduces to a syrupy consistency.

Add chicken stock, tomato sauce, and tomato paste to pan and bring to a simmer. Add meat and vegetables and bay leaf to pan and return to a simmer. Reduce heat to medium and let mixture slowly simmer for approximately 30 minutes, or until liquid has reduced to a sauce-like consistency. Season with salt and black pepper to taste.

For gnocchi:
Peel the potatoes and simmer until they can be easily pierced with a small knife. Remove the potatoes from water and let them cool for 5 minutes. While still warm, pass the potatoes through a ricer and let cool for 5 minutes more.

Meanwhile, in a medium-size bowl, mix ricotta, egg yolks, salt, pepper and grated Parmesan. (If the ricotta is too soft or watery, line a colander with cheesecloth and set it over a bowl. Set the bowl in the refrigerator and let it drain for 1 hour.)

Add the potato to the ricotta mixture and gently mix by hand. Be careful not to overwork. Add the flour in two portions, mixing by hand and being careful not to overwork. Let the dough rest for 1 hour before portioning.

When ready, dust a clean work surface with flour and divide the dough into 4 portions. Gently roll the dough from the center outwards, stretching to create one long, ropelike piece. The dough should be about 1/2- to 3/4-inch thick.

With a bench scraper, cut the gnocchi into individual pieces approximately 1 inch long. Remove gnocchi to a baking tray dusted with flour. To cook, bring 2 quarts water to a boil and add 2 tablespoons kosher salt. Add 8 to 10 pieces of gnocchi and cook until all the gnocchi begin to float. Warm 3 to 4 ounces Bolognese sauce in a sauté pan.

Quickly remove from boiling water and add gnocchi to the pan with warm Bolognese sauce. Toss to coat and serve immediately.

Finished product


Just, wow. I had no idea I could cook something like this. The pot stickers were awe-inspiring enough, but this was just off the charts. From start to finish, it took about two hours to complete the meal, from the gnocchi dough having to sit for an hour to putting the sauce together. But man, it was worth it! For starters, I am never purchasing store-bought gnocchi ever again. Ever. I mean it. This was kind of time consuming, but the taste is one meeelion times better than that Target brand stuff I bought. Light, fluffy, doughy - all good things. I didn't have a gnocchi board:

... but I managed fine. These are mainly used to make ridges to trap the sauce, but this sauce was so meaty and had so little liquid that it couldn't help but cling to the gnocchi.

And the sauce - wow. First of all, I halved the amount of beef and pork and kept the other measurements for the sauce pretty much the same. I added more of the liquid, like chicken broth, tomato sauce/puree, red wine and tomato paste. However, I simmered it on the stove without a lid so all of that liquid evaporated and we were left with just meat. We got it a little more soupy right before we served it, but it tasted wonderful.

I also made the full amount of gnocchi and froze the extras before I cooked them. When cooking the gnocchi, there was no time table on how long to let them cook before they were ready. I found that it only took about four minutes before they started to rise to the top of the water. I wanted to keep cooking them for fear of them tasting under done, but they were so good.

This is another winner, and it will forever have a place in my recipe box. This would be a good company recipe to make for a dinner party or another big event. The trick would be getting the gnocchi to cook and keep them warm until everyone has a serving, but we covered the individual bowls with foil and that did the trick.

Tip: To freeze leftover gnocchi, place them individually on a large cookie sheet and place in the freezer. When they harden, put them in a Ziploc bag and seal tight. If you just throw them in a bag all together, they'll freeze into a gnocchi blob and will be very hard to thaw and cook properly. They thawed nicely in the bag overnight in the fridge.

Update: A week or two later, I thawed the leftover frozen gnocchi to have for another dinner. The gnocchi held their shape, but they didn't taste as good as when they were fresh. They also seemed a bit more doughy than when they were fresh. They weren't bad, but they're better the first time around.

Crispy Pork and Kimchi Pot Stickers

When I was picking out recipes for this quest, I figured I would have a mix of easy recipes and more complicated recipes. This fell into the "more complicated" category. Just looking at the kimchi and unseasoned rice vinegar made me twitch, thinking I would have to search the ends of the earth to find these items. Once again, imagine my surprise when I found these items at our local Big Box retailer. Oh unnamed massive retailer, you saved me once again but that does not change my distaste for you.

Crispy Pork and Kimchi Pot Stickers

TOTAL TIME: 1 HR
SERVINGS: makes about 36 dumplings
Ingredients
SAUCE
1 teaspoon sesame seeds
1/3 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup unseasoned rice vinegar
2 tablespoons water
1 garlic clove, minced
1 scallion, thinly sliced
DUMPLINGS
1/2 pound ground pork
1/2 pound kimchi (Korean pickled cabbage), drained and finely chopped
4 scallions, green parts only, thinly sliced
1 large egg, beaten
2 teaspoons cornstarch
1/2 tablespoon sugar
1/2 tablespoon soy sauce
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
36 gyoza wrappers
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 cup water
Directions
MAKE THE SAUCE: In a small skillet, toast the sesame seeds over moderately high heat for 30 seconds, shaking the pan, until lightly browned. In a small bowl, stir
the soy sauce with the vinegar, water, garlic, scallion and toasted sesame seeds.

1. MAKE THE DUMPLINGS: Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. In a large bowl, combine the ground pork with the kimchi, scallions, egg, cornstarch, sugar, soy sauce, salt and pepper. Using your hands, mix the dumpling ingredients thoroughly.

2. Place 4 gyoza wrappers on a work surface; keep the rest covered with plastic wrap. Lightly moisten the edges of the gyoza wrappers with water. Place a level tablespoon of the ground pork and kimchi filling on one side of each wrapper and fold in half to form half-moons. Press the edges of the wrapper firmly to seal, making pleats for decoration. Lift each dumpling by the pleated edge, transfer it to the baking sheet and press down lightly to flatten the bottom; the dumpling should be standing with the pleat side up on the baking sheet. Repeat with the remaining gyoza wrappers and pork and kimchi filling.

3. In a large, nonstick skillet, heat 1 tablespoon of the oil. Add half of the pot stickers to the skillet, flattened side down. Pour in 1/2 cup of the water, cover and cook over moderately high heat until the water has evaporated, the filling is cooked through and the bottoms are browned, 8 to 10 minutes. Transfer to a serving platter and keep warm. Wipe out the skillet and repeat with the remaining oil, pot stickers and water. Serve with the dipping sauce on the side.

Freshly formed pot stickers

Blurry, cooked pot stickers

Yummy pork filling

The Husband made the dipping sauce while I mixed together the pork and kimchi filling. Now let me say something about this kimchi. It smells just like you would imagine - like pickled, spicy cabbage. Oof. And boy, does that stuff stain. And since the recipe calls for such a small amount, I still have almost a whole jar of this stuff still left to eat. I also have lots of those wrappers left, considering I halved this recipe. So it looks like we're having pot stickers again in the near future. But I completely don't mind because this meal was that good. We decided next time we would halve the recipe and add in a few pieces of sushi for each of us just to round out the meal.

I admit - I was a little afraid of this recipe. I'm now cooking for the Husband, too, and not just myself, so there is a lot more riding on my success or failure of dinner. Success - happy Husband. Failure - call Papa John's. But I can say with confidence that neither of us even considered calling the Papa once this meal was on the table. This was a total success! The dipping sauce really made the meal, and next time I may even sprinkle some of the sesame seeds onto the pot stickers before they go into the pan. We'll also add more of the kimchi since it doesn't have the kick we thought it would, and we would add hot chili flakes to the dipping sauce and maybe some chili garlic sauce to the filling.

I let them go in the pan for about nine minutes, and the bottoms had browned nicely and the pot stickers were a little chewy, but I imagine that's how they're supposed to be. They weren't inedible or anything.

Overall, this was delicious and while there is room to improve, I think these are good enough to eat as is.