Saeu-mandu (Shrimp Dumplings)

Saeu-mandu lives or dies by the filling. People worry over the pleats, then forget the inside, and that is backwards. A pretty dumpling with a wet filling is only a well-dressed disappointment. Press the tofu dry. Salt the cabbage and squeeze it hard. Dry the shrimp before the knife touches it.

My teacher made us mix mandu filling by hand, not because she enjoyed cold fingers, though she may have enjoyed watching ours suffer a little. She wanted us to feel when the pork turned tacky and the shrimp held its shape. That tackiness is the binder. The tofu softens the bite, but too much makes the dumpling crumble, so I give you 120 grams and no more.

These are not festival-only mandu. They sit happily at a weeknight table with rice and kimchi, or on a dinner-party plate where people eat too many before the soup arrives. Leave half the shrimp in small pieces, about 1 centimeter, because a dumpling should tell you what is inside without needing an announcement. 손맛 is real. I still measure it, so it can be handed on.