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“Minutes later she returns from the open kitchen at the end of the restaurant with two brown plates of steamed jjin mandu on a paper napkin, the fat pockets of dough stuffed to bursting with shrimp and chives, and a plate of untidy crisp pork dumplings that I would be happy to live on for the rest of my life. There is a tiny plastic dish of soy and another of orange kimchi and a deep black bowl of soup with shredded omelette and spring onions floating to the surface. I pour the sticky soy into a little white dipping dish and add a few drops of the dark vinegar. My dumplings, doughy, spicy, scorching-hot and as comforting as an old teddy bear, are gone in a heartbeat.” — Nigel Slater
Minutes later she returns from the open kitchen at the end of the restaurant with two brown plates of steamed jjin mandu on a paper napkin, the fat pockets of dough stuffed to bursting with shrimp and chives, and a plate of untidy crisp pork dumplings that I would be happy to live on for the rest of my life. There is a tiny plastic dish of soy and another of orange kimchi and a deep black bowl of soup with shredded omelette and spring onions floating to the surface. I pour the sticky soy into a little white dipping dish and add a few drops of the dark vinegar. My dumplings, doughy, spicy, scorching-hot and as comforting as an old teddy bear, are gone in a heartbeat.