What is a dumpling?

That’s an easy one, right? It’s… a dumpling. Cooked dough of some kind, preferably but not necessarily filled with something tasty. 

But when you run through the varieties of stuffed dough items available worldwide, you’ve got to make some judgment calls. Is an empanada a dumpling? Sure. A sambusa? OK. A tamale? Hmm, now we’re in some tricky territory.

Fortunately, the matter of classifying a food as “dumpling” or “not dumpling” does not fall to me, a guy who knows little more about the subject than “taste good yum eat.” Tourism bureau Visit St. Paul has whipped up a “Dumpling Passport” that lists 34 restaurants serving dumplings, catholically defined as everything from potstickers to, yes, tamales. 

The idea—and it’s a good one—is that you should spend a few months roaming around St. Paul, sampling a dumpling from each restaurant, likely as part of a full meal. You check in electronically at each spot and if you visit enough places you can win prizes like Dumpling Passport crew socks and restaurant gift cards. You’ll support worthy businesses, interact with immigrant cultures, and learn a little something about the city. 

Or, if you’re an idiot willing to risk your gut health for a story, you try to eat all those dumplings in one weekend.

Now, I’m not a complete fool—I didn’t finish each of these servings, and I’ve got the diminished fridge space to show for it. But I did sample dumplings from each restaurant on the passport except for two (for reasons I’ll get to later). And I’m here to report my findings.

Along the way, I would test two of my most firmly held beliefs. First, that there is no such thing as a bad dumpling, that in fact the best food every culture supplies could be classified as a dumpling. Second, that you should never drive from Minneapolis to St. Paul (or vice versa) in the summer.

A Saturday Stroll Along University Ave.

Second belief confirmed almost immediately. I have chosen the worst non-State Fair weekend of 2025 to travel between the cities. Multiple entrances and lanes on I-94 are shut down, with seemingly every alternate route an obstacle course as well. And before you mass transit evangelists get too smug, let me add that the Green Line is out of service as well, with buses replacing the light rail between Raymond Avenue and Union Depot. And yet, like the dedicated journalist I am, I persevere, beginning my trek along University on this mild if smoky morning. 

On's Kitchen

The existence of the Dumpling Passport is news to Sa, my server, who seems slightly amused by my quest. (I eventually stop telling servers why I’m ordering an appetizer that I almost immediately ask to get boxed up. Let them wonder!) The shrimp dumplings (nine for $9.99) surround a perfect mix of shrimp, garlic, and cilantro with a nearly gooey wrapper. Though they’re so light you could just pop one after another, I limit myself to two—I’ve got to pace myself. 1613 University Ave. W. 

Hoa Bien

Time for the first cream cheese wontons on this excursion (six for $6.95) but certainly not my last. Lauren Haun once argued in City Pages that Leeann Chin’s innovation should be considered “Minnesota’s true hometown food”—an especially persuasive case while you’re chomping on one. One way a food becomes a staple is standardization, of course, and when you order a cream cheese wonton, you’re not looking for surprises. This Vietnamese restaurant delivers just what you want: The wonton is crispy but tender, the cream cheese just sweet enough. 1105 University Ave. W.

Trung Nam French Bakery

All the best food can be eaten while walking, and oh man do I love a bánh bao. Trung Nam does them right, too—a sweet and fluffy bun stuffed with a dollop of barbecue pork for $4. I’m off coffee these days but I grab a small Vietnamese iced to perk me up, and I’m a little jealous of the overflowing tables of men chatting over their drinks (no loitering for me) and the families here for a treat (there are all sorts of sweet buns here I’d love to sample). But I’m on a mission. 739 University Ave. W.

Cheng Heng

Chive cakes (three for $6.45) are a Cambodian delicacy. Though the crab filling and titular chive complement each other nicely, I’m most impressed by the outer shells, which are especially crisp because they’re made with rice flour. The owner, one of those old-school proprietors who strides around to meet his guests, very nearly upsells me a sweet bun on my way out. Some other day, pal! 448 University Ave. W.

Little Szechuan

A dumpling tour is not the ideal way to experience Little Szechuan, which specializes in hot pots that look delicious and, alas, filling. But their appetizers aren’t an afterthought. The crunchy garlic topping on the pan-fried pork dumplings (eight for $6.99) really sets them apart, and they arrive slathered in sauce. Fun and/or stupid fact I learned while researching dumplings: Apparently Chinese dumplings are called “Peking ravioli” in Boston. What a country! 422 University Ave. W.

Peking Garden

Similarly, Peking Garden is the sort of establishment where you’re supposed to dine at leisure, enjoying several courses with friends and family. It’s so much bigger on the inside than you’d think from the street once you cross a bridge over a koi pond to where dozens of tables are full of lively diners—along with one sad, solo guy nibbling at pan-fried pork dumplings (six for $7.95). Yes, as you may have noticed, I’m a pork guy. If I ever had to go vegetarian, pig meat would be the hardest for me to kick. 394 University Ave. W.

Fighting My Way Through Downtown

There are approximately 10 streetlights for every human being in downtown St. Paul when I arrive this afternoon, and they are all red. But after wending my way through some heavy-duty road construction and confusing detours, I park and have myself a nice little walkaround—though I don’t hit the restaurants in the order I expected. 

Something I always forget about downtown St. Paul is that the street addresses don’t match up with the street numbers. For instance, believing myself to be near Sawatdee on 486 Robert St., I park on Fifth St. But the restaurant is actually up near Tenth! Now you’re just fucking with me, St. Paul.

Ruam Mit

This Thai joint’s curry puffs (three for $13.99) aren’t much to look at, but the potato innards are sweet enough to qualify as a dessert in my book. And if you’d like a flavor contrast, they’re accompanied by a garnish of cukes, crushed peanuts, and vinegar. I gobble one down as the folks next to me do a Wikipedia dive on velociraptors, which they are amazed to discover were only the size of turkeys. 367 Wabasha St. N.

Sakura

Dumplings are such a basic food you might think they just sprouted up in various cultures independent of one another. But most of the dumplings we’re familiar with have their roots in China, if you go back far enough. That includes the Japanese gyoza (six for $7.50), adapted from the Chinese word jiaozi and developed when the Japanese occupied Manchuria. Just a little history lesson for ya, and what better time for than while eating in a restaurant with some history itself—Sakura's been in business in downtown St. Paul since the '90s. 350 Saint Peter St.

Afro Deli

The city is perking up some as the afternoon progresses. A clump of Crane Wives fans are waiting outside the Palace Theater; an acoustic guitarist regales midday drinkers on the patio of Pillbox Tavern with Tears for Fears. Afro Deli, which just recently relocated from up the street to a spot in the Treasure Island Building, is an old reliable, and my stomach is grateful that they serve sambusa in an order of one ($2.49). I wolf the slightly charred specimen down with a little chutney before I visit the most heavily patrolled Walgreens in America next door for some shampoo—I can multitask! 5 W. Seventh Place

Sawatdee

Robert Street is currently a pit of dirt with some new curbing attached, so Sawatdee is currently only reachable by foot, and barely so at that. The old standby can feel like a relic of the days when Thai food was more of a novelty for white Midwesterners, and the Sarong Sawatdee Special (four for $10.50), while it has traditional roots, is certainly a culinary novelty. It’s a shrimp dumpling wrapped in noodles, and though both noods and dumpling are a bit dry, they’re also tasty. My truly fabulous (and yes I mean that in the gay sense) server blows me a “mwah” after I pay my bill. 486 Robert St.

Erta Ale Ethiopian

Just around the time that Byron Buxton completes hitting for the cycle over in that other city, I’m strolling down to Lowertown, which is filling up with families as a Saints game approaches. I order three beef sambusas ($6.99), and the meat is mixed in with sizable chunks of onion and herbs. Erta Ale's proximity to CHS Field makes me wonder: Do they sell sambusas at baseball games? They absolutely should. 308 E. Prince St.

Urban Wok

I try to hit this other Lowertown joint on my way back to the car, but it’s closed. And it’s closed again (or still) on Sunday when I check back. What’s the story, Urban Wok? The stir fry chain was launched in 2018 with aspirations to become "the Chipotle of Asian food," but a location near 48th and Chicago never materialized. Oh well, you tried, Urban Wok, and so did I. And now, beset by technical difficulties too boring to recount here, I take a break. 209 Fourth St. E.

Saturday Night Dumplings

After my non-negotiable afternoon nap (it’s in my contract), I’m ready for the third leg of Saturday’s spree. And I’ve planned well, if I say so myself—each of tonight’s establishments are best visited from dinnertime on. 

Cecil's Deli

I’ve been plenty of times to Cecil's, a Highland Park institution since 1949, both for breakfast and for sandwiches, but somehow I’ve never sampled their matzo ball soup. It’s unsurprisingly delicious, with stock that has clearly been soaking up chickeny goodness, and it’ll probably preemptively cure my next cold. (An interesting side note: The matzo balls, along with the gnocchi in my next blurb, are the only unfilled dumplings I’ll eat this weekend.) To top it all off, an elderly man is wheezing a few tables over, thus giving me the complete Cecil’s experience. 651 Cleveland Ave.

Gus Gus

There are advantages to flying solo. For instance, I manage to sneak into a seat at the bar at this hot spot on a crowded Saturday night. I am not a gnocchi guy—though I love them in theory, in actuality they always register as doughy nullities. But I am a sucker for upscaled comfort food, and that includes this $16 meal-sized portion of fried gnocchi standing in for french fries, smothered in braised oxtail and molten cheese curds. 128 Cleveland Ave. N.

Groveland Tap

If Gus Gus is all a-bustle, the next spot on my itinerary is a genuinely relaxing neighborhood joint, livened up by the way the bartender and the young, fresh-faced servers josh each other. Here be pierogies (eight for $10.49) with a chewy cheddar-potato filling, accompanied by a horseradish sauce that has just enough bite for the Midwestern palate.1834 St. Clair Ave.

Dilla Sports Bar and Ethiopian Restaurant

The soundtrack here is eclectic if not random, hopping from Arrested Development’s “People Everyday” to Josh Turner’s “Your Man” as I sample the juiciest sambusa of the weekend. A perfect bar food, and the concept of an Ethiopian sports bar seems not just very Minnesota but specifically very St. Paul. Plus, you know how people are always eavesdropping on bad dates in restaurants? Well, I got to overhear what sounded like a good one—nothing too flirty, just two non-awkward people holding a smoothly flowing conversation. Dating tip: Don’t be weird! 1625 University Ave. W.

Juche

With its purple neon and Korean speakeasy vibe, this late-night spot (open till 12:30 a.m., which is like dawn by St. Paul standards) stands out on the East Side landscape like a Blackpink jam cutting into the middle of a Sufjan Stevens mix. The dumplings are, well, perfect. A wonderfully corny (and chaste) Korean teen soap plays silently on the TV, as both shell and contents dissolve in my mouth. What a way to end the day. 1124 Payne Ave.

Circling Around Downtown on a Sunday

I’ll spare you my traffic woes for the day. Though if you’re curious, I found taking I-35W up to Hwy. 36 and then cutting south on I-94 was a relatively painless way to approach St. Paul from the east. 

Mañana

It’s tomorrow and I’m back where I ended yesterday—on the East Side. Just up the road from the fantastical East Side Sculpture Park, this restaurant is colorfully decorated with murals, though I get disoriented (happens a lot) and accidentally try to enter through the kitchen door. Pupusas make a great (if heavy) breakfast—they’re basically stuffed pancakes, right?— especially topped with Mañana’s tangy slaw. 798 Seventh St. E.

El Burrito Mercado

It’s understandable if you live in Minneapolis and you’ve never made it over to this West St. Paul institution—it’s a bit of a hike. Understandable, yet foolish. This combo grocery, bar, and restaurant is a bit overwhelming in all it has to offer, and it presents this spree’s most perplexing question: Are tamales dumplings? My first instinct was to say no, since you don’t eat the outer husk. But don’t get distracted by that, because it’s what’s inside that matters: stuffed masa. That’s dumpling enough for me. With no à la carte option, I go for the potentially gut-busting tamale platter ($14.75). The lime tartness to El Burrito Mercado’s masa is so delicious I could have eaten the tamales sin carnitas. 175 Cesar Chavez St.

Boca Chica

I’m hoping for something lighter than a tamale platter at Boca Chica, but I’ve unfortunately arrived during a Sunday brunch buffet. I think briefly of slapping $23 on the Racket card for a couple enchiladas (dumplings or no?), but that seems wasteful. Instead I vow to come back, but due to scheduling conflicts, can’t. Sorry Boca Chica! 11 Cesar Chavez St.

Crasqui

I had never eaten a Venezuelan empanada before visiting and I was a bit suspicious of the $10 price. But this sucker is a meal—the major difference, my server explained to me, is that the outer shell is made of corn rather than wheat. So you’ve got a healthy amount of stewed beef within a masa shell that’s chewy on the inside and crisp on the outside. And good news: You can now order frozen mini-empanadas by the dozen from Crasqui to cook at home. 84 Wabasha St.

Little Brazil

Wait, there’s a Brazilian empanada too? I’m learning so much today (granted I had a lot to learn). These shells are made of flour, so they’re very delicate, perfect for someone who plans on eating dumpling-like foods all day long. The chicken and cheese filling was tasty enough but a bit gritty—I prefer my meat stewed and stringy rather than ground and paste-like. But I’d love to stop back and shop at this cute little grocery and restaurant, located near the river, just behind the Science Museum. 230 Spring St.

Entering the Carb Danger Zone

The Asian and East African restaurants yesterday spoiled me. I did not realize how easy Saturday had been on my stomach—I could apparently gobble potstickers and sambusas all day. But after an already starchy morning, I was now to face some real challenges. 

La Grolla

A full ravioli lunch might be inadvisable on an ordinary day. In the midst of a dumpling spree, it was truly hazardous. “At least tell us you didn’t finish it, Keith!!!” Sorry mom, but the ravioli di granchio at this Cathedral Hill landmark, stuffed with shrimp and crab in a rich lobster sauce, could not be set aside. Are ravioli dumplings? Well, apparently in Hong Kong, tortellini and ravioli are often described as “Italian wonton.” 452 Selby Ave. 

Moscow on the Hill

Eastern Europe may be proud of its dumplings, but its residents didn’t come up with the concept themselves. It was Marco Polo, or maybe St. Hyacinth of Poland, who brought those treats from China to Europe. Then the dwellers of those cold climes got to work on making their dumplings as hearty as possible. Moscow on the Hill’s Siberian pelmeni (eight for $16.95) were nearly a meal in themselves, especially with that dollop of sour cream. Don’t forget to splash vinegar on them for true Russian astringency. 371 Selby Ave. 

Sabrina's Cafe and Deli

After two carb-heavy (and just plan heavy) dishes, I’ll admit I needed a break. So I was glad to visit this humble little spot just around the corner from University Avenue and relieved to see a single beef sambusa for $1.99. Even given my diminished appetite, it was delicious. 518 Snelling Ave. N.

Master Noodle

Why does one side of the building and the website URL call this restaurant “Magic Noodle”? More like Mystery Noodle! Apparently the restaurant was sued by a porn studio? (Unfortunately, all the “hand-pulled noodles” jokes were already made when this happened in 2021.) These pan-fried pork dumplings (six for $6.95) have a nice char on the side, and I’m starting to wonder if the Chinese dumplings I’ve been consuming this weekend (flat, thin-skinned, fried) aren’t better classified as potstickers. But that’s a question of semantics I’ll leave to the experts. 1337 University Ave. W.

Bole Ethiopian Cuisine

This is not new to me. Diehard Brunch Buds fans may recall this as the spot where Andy’s son Redacto gave the server Sandy a flower. Others may wonder what the hell I’m talking about. What matters is that I got a single sambusa ($1.85) that was a touch on the spicier side—not critiquing or praising, just stating as a matter of fact. And it is confirmed that I really could just constantly eat sambusas. 1341 Pascal St.

The Takeout Solution

I thought the problem with the spree was that I’d run out of gut real estate. Instead, I’m running out of time. Sunday night, I realize I gotta punt: In a mad dash to finish things off, I order take out from the remaining restaurants and take them home to finish off before bedtime. 

eM Que Viet

What this restaurant calls State Fair cheese wontons (six for $10) are beautiful specimens, soft knobs filled with sweet cream cheese, wontons that flare out like vegetable leaves. The tricky thing about the cream cheese wonton is you can’t really improve upon it, you can only go wrong—too little cheese, soggy wontons. But you can play with the presentation, and these are little masterpieces of wonton design. And maybe that flair's to be expected of a restaurant that started as a "sexier" (their words) offshoot of the northeast institution Que Viet. Particularly one (per the origin story on their website) that began while prepping food for the State Fair and singing along to Ariana Grande's "Side to Side" (which is not about making egg rolls!)1332 Grand Ave.

Pad Thai

I’m not in the habit of pitying the put-upon small biz owner—I am a put-upon small biz owner, and I know we’re crybabies. But jeez, is Pad Thai in a bad spot right now. South of Snelling Avenue, adjacent to Macalester College, blocks of Grand Avenue as we know it are simply gone as road construction takes place. The cream cheese puffs (six for $5) are friendly little guys, so sweet they’re almost candied. 1681 Grand Ave.

India House

After so many sambusas this weekend (who’s complaining?) I finally get to taste the first samosas of the spree (two for $4.99) at this Mac-Groveland staple. The similarity between “sambusa” and “samosa” is no mere etymological coincidence, I discover, which makes sense, as India and East Africa have a long intercultural connection. These fellas are not just tasty but substantial—bona fide mountains of curried potato. 758 Grand Ave.

Everest on Grand

Samosas were also on offer here but I wasn’t about to pass up on the weekend’s only opportunity for momo, which (not to start any arguments) are just more platonically dumpling-like than the pastry-like samosa. As I pop yak momo (six for $10.50) into my maw, I wonder where exactly one acquires yak meat in the U.S. Well, in this very state, apparently—Everest’s website credits Hoopers’ Christmas Tree Ranch in Cold Spring, Minnesota, as their source. Eek! I forgot to not Google “momo.” 1278 Grand Ave.

Saji Ya

It’s gyoza time again (6 for $8) and I must confess I prefer them to Chinese dumplings on textural grounds alone. Gyoza, I’ve learned, tend to leave the ingredients inside separate, where jiaozi and potstickers gather them into a lump. I’m not only learning something about dumplings this weekend; I’m learning a little something about myself. 695 Grand Ave.

Chimborazo

A Minneapolis favorite, but I’d never tried their St. Paul location, which is right next to a Trader Joe’s with a characteristically terrifying parking lot. And as a fan of their sandwiches, I’ve never tried their empanadas. Even after I’ve been dazzled by heretofore unknown variations on this item from Brazil and Venezuela, a familiar ol’ Ecuadoran empanada still hits the spot, with nice gooey cheese within and powdered sugar on top. 508 Lexington Parkway

Potsticker

About 36 hours after I started this spree, you might think I’d be burnt out on dumplings by now and I’d want to take it easy. But I can’t walk into a place called potsticker and not consume the full variety of their wares. Maybe it’s silly to get the eight potsticker sampler ($15) but how else would I have learned that butternut squash and shrimp go so well together? And the other flavors—from kimchi pork to fried tofu with mushroom and kale—aren’t far behind. 1214 Randolph Ave.

So no, after my long weekend, I’m not dumplinged out. Far from it. In fact, I’ve been happily consuming my leftovers for three days. 

And now, if you don’t mind, I really need to eat some vegetables.