January 10, 2025
Folding Joy in Beijing – My Dumpling Day in the Hutongs
When I first arrived in Beijing, I didn’t know what I was looking for.
I had my list, sure — temples, towers, markets.
But the best days? They’re the ones that don’t start with a plan.
Just a feeling. A slow walk. And in this case, a cooking class I’d signed up for on a whim.
It took me somewhere I didn’t expect to fall in love with: the Hutongs.
And it gave me something I didn’t expect to love doing solo: folding dumplings by hand.
The Hutongs — quiet in all the right ways
The Hutongs are a part of Beijing most visitors don’t stay long in.
But I could’ve spent days just walking those streets.
A Hutong is a narrow alleyway, lined with siheyuan — traditional courtyard homes. These small neighborhoods go back hundreds of years. Some are well-preserved, others crumbling quietly. But all of them hold life in a way that feels honest.
It’s where old Beijing lives. Not the glossy skyline or fast-paced city.
Here, laundry flaps from bamboo poles.
Doors are half open. People chat in low voices.
There’s steam from breakfast noodles in the air, bikes leaned against stone walls, and red lanterns that feel like poetry.
You don’t walk the Hutongs to “see” them.
You walk them to feel something ancient still breathing.
A kitchen tucked between the alleys
The cooking class was in a small courtyard house, barely marked.
You’d miss it if you weren’t looking. I almost did.
Inside: tiled floors, wooden counters, the smell of ginger, and a group of us gathered around a big wooden table. Everyone was from somewhere different. I wasn't the only one solo.
We introduced ourselves. Laughed a little nervously. Rolled up our sleeves.
And got to work.
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What dumplings are — and why they matter
Dumplings, or jiaozi (饺子), are more than just food in China.
They’re symbols of togetherness, good fortune, and care.
Families make them during Lunar New Year, folding them together at the table.
Some say they’re shaped like ancient Chinese money — little pockets of prosperity. Others just say they’re made with love.
You don’t rush dumplings. You shape them. You fill them with what you have. And you pass them around.
We made a traditional pork + chive filling.
Rolled out dough by hand.
Learned to fold — the classic crescent shape, with pleats that look like tiny waves.
Mine weren’t perfect. But I didn’t care.
The rhythm of folding was soft, almost meditative.
The joy of chopsticks, and what I didn’t know
Before we ate, we got a little lesson on chopsticks.
Did you know that chopsticks have been used in China for over 3,000 years?
They started as cooking tools, long enough to reach into pots.
Eventually, they became dining utensils — elegant, efficient, and full of meaning.
We learned:
Never stick them upright in your food (that’s a funeral symbol)
Don’t point them
And always pass food to someone with both sticks — it shows care
Eating with chopsticks is an art. But also, an invitation.
You eat slower. More intentionally.
It’s like the food tastes more present.
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We sat, ate, and shared stories over soy sauce
After steaming the dumplings, we all sat down at a long table with small bowls of dipping sauce, chili oil, and tea.
The room got quieter. Not because people stopped talking — but because we were just… enjoying.
Each bite was something we’d made ourselves. With our hands. In a city most of us had just met.
I looked around the table and thought:
This is the kind of moment you can’t plan. But you remember forever.
A slow walk back through the alleys After class, I wandered back through the Hutongs. The sun had started to dip. The bricks were glowing. A man was playing chess in the street with a friend. A cat stretched across the roof of a parked motorbike. A girl peeked out from behind a red door, then laughed and disappeared. I walked slowly. No phone in hand. Just full. Not just from dumplings — but from something softer. Something grounding.
If you ever go to Beijing solo Go to the Great Wall. Yes. See the Forbidden City. Of course. But also: Take a dumpling class Get lost in the Hutongs Talk to the grandmother selling buns on the corner Watch a local play cards under a tree Learn how to fold something with your hands Eat it slowly, with chopsticks, and with people you’ve never met
I saved the class & notes for you If you want to do this too — I made a guide. It includes the exact class I took, what to expect, what to wear (yes, bring a scrunchie), and a little dumpling folding cheat sheet. 🥟 → Download: My Dumpling Day in Beijing – Guide + Playlist 📍 → Follow along on Instagram for the little moments: @mytravelgids There’s a kind of beauty in making something by hand, in a place you don’t yet know, and calling it yours — even for a moment. Beijing gave me that. And I’ll keep it with me — pleats, stories, flavors and all.
Love, Vanessa
A slow walk back through the alleys After class, I wandered back through the Hutongs. The sun had started to dip. The bricks were glowing. A man was playing chess in the street with a friend. A cat stretched across the roof of a parked motorbike. A girl peeked out from behind a red door, then laughed and disappeared. I walked slowly. No phone in hand. Just full. Not just from dumplings — but from something softer. Something grounding.
If you ever go to Beijing solo Go to the Great Wall. Yes. See the Forbidden City. Of course. But also: Take a dumpling class Get lost in the Hutongs Talk to the grandmother selling buns on the corner Watch a local play cards under a tree Learn how to fold something with your hands Eat it slowly, with chopsticks, and with people you’ve never met
I saved the class & notes for you If you want to do this too — I made a guide. It includes the exact class I took, what to expect, what to wear (yes, bring a scrunchie), and a little dumpling folding cheat sheet. 🥟 → Download: My Dumpling Day in Beijing – Guide + Playlist 📍 → Follow along on Instagram for the little moments: @mytravelgids There’s a kind of beauty in making something by hand, in a place you don’t yet know, and calling it yours — even for a moment. Beijing gave me that. And I’ll keep it with me — pleats, stories, flavors and all.
Love, Vanessa