I even attempted to bring the miso soup dumpling of my dreams to life, and produced a dozen or so bland, mushy goo-balls. I used too much agar, and the alarmingly firm-from-the-fridge miso cubes never fully melted in their steam bath. The “soup” oozed from the dumpling like a jelly donut, but even thicker and more viscous.

It’s a delicate balance: If you use too much agar, the soup filling is too firm and won’t melt in the dumpling. If you use too little it melts as you work; if you’re using vital wheat gluten, your faux-meatball is likely to absorb any excess liquid, and poof! There goes the soup in your soup dumplings.

Ng solves this by using the bare minimum (it seems) of agar, but returning the dumpling filling to the freezer in between steps, so the agar stays cold and solid. But this can be trying and it drags out the dumpling-making process.

On top of everything, I was — foolishly, insanely! — attempting this project in the middle of July, as heat waves came and went and came again. The dumpling fillings, no matter how cold to start, melted to the touch as I tried to wrangle all of the bits inside the wrapper: some of the stretchy gluten-meat, some of the frozen shards of jelly, and, as I began experimenting with different fillings, bits of sautéed vegetables.

Ground meat holds together nicely. It’s pliable, sticky even. Vegan dumpling filling is not. It wants to fall apart. Perhaps worst of all, it’s wet. If I tried to overfill the dumplings, or even just adequately fill them, liquid would spill out. The dumpling dough would become slippery and impossible to close, refusing to cohere at the edges, no matter how many neat folds I produced. “Is this what it’s like to do brain surgery,” I wondered deliriously, sweat prickling my brow.

It was time to try something different.

Chris Santos, the chef and Chopped judge, is the creator of the original remix, the French onion soup dumpling, which he served at The Stanton Social from its opening in 2005 to its closing at the end of 2018. The dumplings were so popular that Santos also serves them at his new restaurant, Vandal. He has said these dumplings will probably be with him the rest of his life.

His recipe is available online, and I set about veganizing it.

I thinly sliced two medium onions and threw them into a hot pan with several generous glugs of olive oil and a pinch of salt and freshly ground pepper. I added two cloves of garlic, finely minced. I turned down the heat and waited for the onions to sweat, and then to soften and melt. After they were lightly caramelized, I poured in a cup of white vermouth and several sprigs of fresh thyme and rosemary from my herb pots. I let the wine and onions reduce down to a thick jammy texture, and then added a cup of mushroom broth. I had some frozen from the last time I rehydrated porcini mushrooms, and it was the exact rich, earthy flavor this soup wants.

This is easy, I thought to myself. So far, the only trick is to make the most delicious onion soup you can. Simple! When the soup was the thickness of a loose jam — more onion than broth, but still some broth — I poured it into a baking dish and popped it into the freezer.

What’s that you say? I forgot the agar? Something interesting and different about Santos’ recipe is that it doesn’t call for a thickener. Instead, he freezes the soup mixture, then slices and dices it into cubes that are folded into wonton wrappers. (Finding vegan wonton wrappers — or making your own — might be the hardest thing about this recipe.) Santos brings the corners of the wrapper up to create a little purse-like shape. This is easier when the wrappers and filling have softened a bit, but not too much. I experimented with other shapes: a triangle, two wrappers joined together to make an extra-large ravioli shape. Then I slid the shapes into a pan of hot oil, enough to cover the bottom but not to submerge the dumplings. They need to be turned to brown on all sides.

This process is a race against time. I had turned out the sheet of frozen soup onto a cutting board, and as I formed the first few dumplings, the others were already beginning to return to their original, soupy state. On the other hand, frying is a lot faster than steaming, so dinner was ready relatively quickly. When all sides of the dumplings had browned, I fished them out of the oil and placed them on a sheet pan lined with paper towels.

The Santos French onion soup dumpling is served with a crouton, but that sounded extra dry to me, so I omitted it. Instead, I poured a small bowl of balsamic vinegar for dipping. Had I been more interested in presentation, I would have made a balsamic reduction to drizzle over the dumplings, and scattered finely minced fresh chives over the top.

Reader, two people ate all 24 in one sitting, even though the original recipe says it makes 36 and recommends preparing just 12 to serve and freezing the rest. Whoops! Just half of the dumplings, paired with a simple side salad, would have made a lovely, complete, and less gut-bursting meal for two, but I have no regrets.

Of course, these dumplings also lacked the gushiness I set out to demand from my soup dumplings, and yet the unexpected delight of rich onion soup encased in a crispy outer shell made up for it. I was satisfied, refreshed, and ready to try my hand at vegan xiaolongbao again.