云吞面Wonton noodle soup
A clear, light stock with shrimp-and-pork wontons in it, and a tangle of al dente egg noodles tossed with sesame oil on the side. The Cantonese rule of the dish: the noodles are never cooked in the soup, and the soup is light enough to taste the shrimp in. Everything else is in service of those two points.
Technique notes
This is a noodle dish: the egg noodles are boiled hard and fast (90–120 s for a thin dried noodle), drained, and tossed with sesame oil so they hold their snap and don't stick into a mat — and the Cantonese rule is that they're never cooked in the soup, because the soup's own moisture would soften them and the finished bowl would be a mat of noodles in some broth. The wonton is the other half: a thin wrapper, a shrimp-and-pork filling that's beaten until it gels, and the classic purse wrap (a different wrap from the jiaozi's half-moon — see the wrap article for both). The stock is a light balance: clear chicken stock, a little light soy, a little white pepper, a little sesame oil — the "light enough to taste the shrimp in" is the whole point, and the dried shrimp in the stock is what gives it the seafood depth without any cream or fat thickening it. The wrap is the one move that decides whether the finished bowl reads as a proper wonton or as "something like a little meatball in some broth," and a thin, well-beaten, properly-wrapped wonton is the mark of a good one.
Equipment
- A medium pot for the stock, and a larger one for the noodles and the wontons (or the same pot, used in stages)
- A small strainer or a wide, flat-bottomed bowl for the drained, oiled noodles
- A small bowl for the filling mix, and a fork or a chopstick to beat it (step 3)
- 12 wonton wrappers (or enough dough to roll 12 thin, round ones — see the note in step 4)
Ingredients
- 500 g (1 lb) thin, dried egg noodles (the yellowish, thin, round kind — the "yung tan mein" or a good thin ramen) — the "al dente, thin, round" is the specific noodle the dish is named for, and a thick, flat, wide noodle is a different dish entirely
- For the wontons (12): 125 g (4 oz) ground pork, the lean-fatty kind · 150 g (5 oz) shrimp (or 100 g (3½ oz) of peeled, raw, small shrimp), the shrimp cut into small, even pieces (5 mm roughly) — the cut of the shrimp is the whole "bite of shrimp" note in the finished wonton · 15 ml (1 tbsp) light soy sauce · 15 ml (1 tbsp) Shaoxing wine (or a good dry sherry) · 5 g (1 tsp) sesame oil · 2 g (¼ tsp) ground white pepper · 10 g (2 tsp) cornflour · 1 (10 g) clove of garlic, minced · 1 (10 g) small piece of ginger, minced · 2 (20 g) spring onion greens, minced fine
- 12 wonton wrappers (or: 250 g (2 cups) of all-purpose flour, 1 (50 g) egg, and 125 ml (½ cup) of water, mixed to a smooth, thin, soft dough, rested 30 min, and rolled out thin and cut into 8 cm squares — the wrapper move, just thinner and a little more of the egg in it)
- For the stock (a light, clear bowl): 750 ml (3 cups) of a good, clear chicken stock (or a clear, light chicken broth, with the skin skimmed off) · 10 g (a small handful) of small, dried shrimp, soaked in 30 ml (2 tbsp) of water for 10 min to soften — the seafood depth in the stock · 15 ml (1 tbsp) light soy sauce · 2 g (¼ tsp) of salt, to bring out the savory note · 2 g (¼ tsp) of ground white pepper · 1 (10 g) small piece of ginger, sliced, for the stock (it goes in and comes out, or stays in — both are fine, and it's the sharp, clean note that answers the sweetness of the shrimp) · 5 ml (1 tsp) sesame oil, for the finish
- 1 (10 g) small piece of ginger, sliced — the same note, a little more of it in the finished bowl
- 2 (20 g) spring onion greens, cut in 1 cm lengths — the green note at the table
- 2 g (¼ tsp) of ground white pepper, for the table, on top of the finished bowl
- 15 ml (1 tbsp) sesame oil, for the tossed noodles (step 5) — the "never cook the noodle in the soup" rule is the one that decides whether the finished bowl reads as a proper wonton mein or as a mat of noodles in some broth, and a little of the oil on the noodle is the move that keeps it on the "snap" side of that line
Method
- The stock, in a small pot. Into the medium pot, add the chicken stock and the soaked, drained dried shrimp. Bring it to a gentle simmer, and let it sit for 8–10 min — the dried shrimp gives up its own savory, slightly sweet, a little salty note to the stock, and that's the "seafood depth" note that a plain chicken stock doesn't have on its own. Add the light soy, the salt, and the ground white pepper, and taste it: the stock should be light, clear, and savory — the "light enough to taste the shrimp in" is the aim, and a stock that's too salty or too sharp is the other side of that line. Add a little more stock, or a little more of the water, to bring it back to the "light and clear" note if it's running a little too strong. Set the pot aside, and the stock holds its heat while you work on the rest of the dish.
- The shrimp, cut. Peel the shrimp, and remove the dark vein along the back of each one (the digestive tract — it's the "fishy" note that a quick rinse and a trim of the vein takes care of). Cut each shrimp into small, even pieces, about 5 mm across. The cut is the whole "bite of shrimp" in the finished wonton: a piece that's too small will just be a little of the shrimp's flavor in the pork, and a piece that's too big will be a little lumpy and a little uneven in the mouth. Even, small, 5 mm pieces are the target, and it's the move that gives the finished wonton its clean, "a proper shrimp in the pork" note rather than a "a little shrimpy pork" one.
- The filling, beaten. Into a small bowl, add the ground pork, the soy, the wine, the sesame oil, the white pepper, the cornflour, and the minced garlic, ginger, and spring onion. Mix it well, with a fork or a chopstick, and the same binding move as the jiaozi's filling in step 2 of the jiaozi recipe: mix until the pork takes the liquid into itself and starts to look glossy and sticky and a little pulled. The salt in the soy has pulled the protein out of the meat, and the slow, one-direction mixing is what gives that protein a chance to line up, set, and hold the liquid. Then the cut shrimp, mixed in gently at the end, so it doesn't bruise into the pork and lose its own clean, slightly sweet note. The filling should be a thick, sticky, glossy paste with a little texture to it, and a small spoonful of it on a wrapper should hold its shape without falling apart.
- The wrap. On a wrapper, a small spoonful of the filling (about 20 g) in the center, and the classic purse wrap: fold the wrapper over the filling into a half-moon, and then bring the two short ends together over the top and gather them into a small, neat "purse." The wonton article walks through the wrap in more detail, and a solid, well-pinch'd seam is what keeps the filling in at the boil. If a wrapper tears at the pinch, a small patch of a spare wrapper, dampened to the point of sticking, will hold it. A broke wonton in the pot is a little less neat and a little soupier in the mouth — still a good bite, a different thing. Keep the unworked wrappers under a damp cloth, so they don't dry out on the rim and tear at the pinch.
- The noodles, boiled hard and fast. A large pot of water, on a high heat, to a hard rolling boil. In go the thin, dried egg noodles, for 90–120 s — the noodle article's "al dente, just past the raw, chalky center" is the target. A noodle that's been sitting in the pot for a minute or two has gone soft and limp, and it's the other side of the "snap" line. Drain the noodles well, and a small pour of the sesame oil over them, and a quick toss so each strand is just coated. The oil is the move that keeps the noodles from sticking into a mat as they cool slightly while you finish the rest of the dish, and it's the "never cook the noodle in the soup" rule in its most direct form: the noodle, the oil, and the "snap" are the three things that decide whether the finished bowl reads as a proper wonton mein or as a mat of noodles in some broth.
- The wontons, in the stock. The stock in its pot, brought back to a gentle simmer. In go the wontons, one or two at a time, and a quick stir with the back of a spoon so they don't stick to the bottom. The boil will drop for a second, and then come back up; that's the normal "they're in" cycle. When the wontons just float to the top and the skins look taut and slightly translucent, they're done — a raw, chalky center is the opposite end of the same line, and the "they float, the skins are taut" is the done cue. If the stock drops too much in the process, a small pour of hot water brings it back to the "light and clear" level it was at.
- Assemble the two bowls. Into each bowl, a portion of the drained, oiled noodles — a small, neat pile. Over the top, the wontons, and a ladle or two of the stock. Then the green, the sliced ginger and the white pepper over the whole thing. The stock should come up just above the top of the noodles — enough to swim them, not so much that it's a thin, under-structured bowl. The whole dish is in the bowl: the light, clear, savory stock; the clean, sweet note of the shrimp in the wonton; the snap of the noodles; the sharp, clean note of the ginger, and the green note of the spring onion. The lightness of the stock is what lets the shrimp come through, and the two of them together, in the bowl, are the dish.
Common failures
- The noodles are stuck together in a mat. They weren't drained well and oiled after the boil (step 5: the oil is the move that keeps them from sticking into a mat), or they got too long a cook in the pot (step 5: 90–120 seconds, not "until they look done"). A noodle that's been sitting in a not-drained, not-oiled, a little overcooked state is a mat, and a noodle that's been drained, oiled, and a little undercooked is a "snap," and the whole "never cook the noodle in the soup" rule is the one that keeps the finished bowl on the "snap" side of that line.
- The wontons are "broke" and the stock is a little cloudier, a little soupier. A wrap that's a little thin at the pinch (step 4: the pinch is the move, and a well-pinch'd seam is what holds the filling in at the boil), or a boil that's a little too violent (step 6: a gentle simmer, with the quick stir, is what keeps the wonton from breaking at the surface). A wonton that's broke in the pot is a little less neat and a little soupier in the mouth — still a good bite, a different thing.
- The stock is "just chicken stock," no seafood note in it. The dried shrimp was skipped, or it went into the stock at the very end and didn't have time to give up its own savory, slightly sweet, a little salty note. Step 1: the dried shrimp, in the pot, for the 8–10 minutes of the simmer, is the "seafood depth" note — and a stock that's missing that note reads as "a clear bowl of chicken" rather than "a proper wonton mein."
- The shrimp in the wonton are "fishy," or a little muddy. The vein wasn't trimmed (step 2: the trim of the dark vein along the back is the "fishy note" removed), or the shrimp was cut too large and it bruised into the pork and lost its own clean, slightly sweet note (step 3: even, small, 5 mm pieces, mixed in gently at the end). The cut and the trim are the two moves that keep the shrimp on the "a proper shrimp in the pork" side of the line, and a shrimp that's been skipped at either of those two moves is the other side of it.
Variations & substitutions
- Pork-only wontons. The same fill, the same wrap, the same boil — the shrimp is replaced with a little more of the pork (a full 250 g of the lean-fatty kind), and the same salt-and-wine-and-cornflour beating in step 3. You lose the clean, slightly sweet note of the shrimp, and you gain a deeper, more savory, a little meatier note in the mouth. It's the "pork wonton" version of the dish, and the whole "beating and binding" sequence is the same move with a different protein, and the stock and the noodle are all the same moves either way.
- A thicker, a little richer stock. A small pour of the light coconut (a 30 ml pour, the thick kind) into the stock in step 1, and the whole "light and clear" note of the dish goes a step toward a little richer and a little creamier. It's the "wonton mein with a little of the coconut in it" version — a step further down the "a little more of the rich, a little less of the light" line — and it's a good move if the table in front of you prefers a little more of the body in the soup.
- The fried version. Same wrap, same fill, same pinch. A heavy pan, a 15 ml (1 tbsp) pour of oil, and the wontons in a single layer to get crisp bottoms; then a 60 ml (4 tsp) pour of water and the lid on for 3 min, until the water is gone and the bottoms are golden — a final un-lidded minute or two to bring the whole thing back to the crisp-and-gold note it's meant to be. The pan-heat article covers the "sear and finish in the liquid" move that a crisp wonton runs on, and it's the same move as the pan-fried jiaozi, just with a different wrap and a different end.
What to serve with it
This is a meal on its own, in a bowl — the light, clear stock, the snap of the noodles, and the clean, slightly sweet note of the shrimp in the wonton. A plate of boiled jiaozi on the side is the other direction of the same family: the boiled jiaozi is the soft, juicy, "a proper boiled dumpling" note, and the two of them on the same table is a proper Cantonese-and-North-China spread, and the whole "dumpling" story in two dishes. A plate of scallion pancakes works as a second element, for the crisp, layered, savory note that answers the snap of the noodles and the lightness of the stock, and a cold lager is the drink that goes with it, by long tradition.
More
Back to Chinese · Techniques (noodles, dumplings, sauces 101, knife skills, pan heat)