Mantı: how the Turks do meat dumplings

I'm seeing an alarming lack of good ol' fashioned MEAT dishes on this blog. Also, I promised in my first post that you would see some authentic Turkish dishes from me, so here you go.

Mantı ("dumpling"), pronounced MAHN (as in
"Ma" and "Pa") tooh (as in "woof"), can be found all over central Asia and even into the former Soviet bloc and Northwest China. As might be expected, it is a touchstone of classical Turkish cooking. However, it's not the sort of dish you will find readily in the restaurants of Ankara or Istanbul. That's because mantı, despite being a relatively straightforward food to make, tends to be rather time-consuming and labor-intensive if you want to do it right. The only occasion that I ever had the pleasure to sample this dish in all its home-cooked glory was when one of my Turkish co-workers invited me and some other American teachers into her Ankara apartment for a traditional Turkish dinner.

When you think of mantı, you should picture an assembly line consisting of a Turkish mother and her daughters (and in some cases, her sons) in the kitchen on a Sunday afternoon, laughing and gossiping and talking about the events of the week as they patiently knead the lumps out of the homemade dough, pound out and roll the pasta into thin sheets, and assemble the dumpling pouches with precision and dexterity. For many Turks, the dish is just as much a socio-familial institution as it is a culinary one; that's half the fun of preparing it. It's very much akin to baking a cake/pie or grilling steaks in American culture -- the sort of thing you do with family and friends on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Perhaps the best thing about this dish is how much mileage you can get out of the leftovers. While assembling the mantı is time-consuming, cooking them is not: like any pasta, all you need is to boil some water and prepare a quick sauce. Many Turkish families will spend their Sundays preparing a week's batch of dumplings, storing them in the fridge or freezer to be served on those nights of the week when no one has the energy to cook anything else. I suggest that you do the same -- if your family doesn't gobble them all up like mine did!

So without further ado, here is my personal recipe for mantı, collated from the tips and tricks of my Turkish co-workers and prepared -- in the spirit of the dish -- with the company of my mother.


TURKISH MANTI
prepares about 40 large dumplings or 80 small ones (pictured: large)
serves 4

For the filling:

• 1 lb ground lamb, about 15-20% fat (ground beef can be substituted)
• 1 onion, minced
• 1/3 cup parsley, chopped
• Salt, freshly ground black pepper, cumin -- to taste

For the dough:

• 2 cups flour
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 2 eggs
• Water, as needed

For the cooking: 

• 3 cups chicken stock
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 2 bay leaves
• Cloves (optional)

For the sauces:

• 2-4 tbsp butter
• 22 oz. plain yogurt, Greek-styled preferably
• 6 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/2 tsp paprika
• 1/2 tsp red pepper flakes

Got all those ingredients? Good. 

First thing's first: preparing the dough. Combine the flour and salt in a mixing bowl before adding the eggs and about 1 tbsp water, mixing well with your hands. Keep adding water until the dough attains a leathery, pliable consistency without being sticky to the touch. Turn flour out on a lightly floured surface and knead for about 10 minutes. Cover and set aside for at least 30 minutes.

While the dough is sitting, begin preparing the ground lamb filling. Chop up your onion and parsley, then fold it into the meat using your hands. Season with salt, pepper, and cumin. Keep this mixture refrigerated until you have need for it again.

Once the dough is ready, knead out any remaining lumps and then divide it into two portions. Keep one piece of dough covered (to keep it moist) while you roll the second portion into a rectangle over a lightly floured work surface. You want the dough to be as thin as you can possibly get it, but don't be so zealous that it cannot hold the meat filling. (1/4 inch thickness is roughly what you're shooting for.) Have fun, because this is easily the most time-consuming and labor-intensive step of the whole affair.

... unless you have the always-convenient Cuisinart and its wonderful pasta-making peripheral, like my mother. In which case, you can sit back and let the machine do all the work for you.

The wonders of the Cuisinart. Jealous?

Of course , if you're not interested in this homemade pasta business, you can just go out and buy some wonton wrappers. They won't taste as good, though. Also, you will be totally lame and should feel lame. 

Kinda like this.

Once you have your dough nice and thin, cut it into squares using a pastry wheel or knife. For large mantı, aim for 2.5" x 2.5" or 3" x 3", and for small mantı aim for 1.5" by 1.5".


Now we assemble our mantı. Here are the steps:

1. Spoon the meat mixture into the center of the dough square, about 2 tsp per for large mantı and 1 tsp for small mantı.
2. Fold two opposite corners of the square for that they meet above the meat mixture.
3. Fold the other two corners of the square, just like in Step 2. You should now have all the original corners folded up above the meat mixture, and four new corners protruding below.
4. Tuck two opposing corners back, then up so that they meet in the center.
5. Fold the other two corners like in Step 4. If you've got a delicate hand and an eye for stylish assembly, the finished mantı should have a pattern on top resembling an 8.
   

Step 1

Step 2

Step 3

Steps 4-5 (my crappy attempt)

Finished product as assembled by someone who actually knows what she's doing

Place finished mantı on a parchment-lined baking sheet and cover with a damp towel to keep them from drying out. You can refrigerate these sheets to keep them fresh for up to a day -- and some recipes will insist that refrigerating for at least an hour benefits the flavor.  (I don't really care.) Alternatively, you can freeze them on baking sheets, uncovered, for 2 hours, then transfer to an airtight container (such as a Ziploc bag) and kept in the freezer for up to a month. 

Hard part over -- hooray!

You have two options when it comes to cooking and serving the mantı, one easy (boiling)  and one slightly more difficult (baking). Boiling will keep the dumplings nice and soft, while baking will result in a fuller flavor palette and some slight crispiness in the pasta. Boiling is the more traditional method, in case you were wondering.

THE EASY OPTION

In a large pot, bring some water to a boil, then add a teaspoon of salt and and a tablespoon of olive oil (so that the mantı don't stick together)  Throw all the mantı in and stir occasionally. Cook about 20-25 minutes or until the dumplings begin to rise, then drain. 

THE SLIGHTLY MORE DIFFICULT OPTION

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Coat a 13" x 9" baking dish with 1 tablespoon butter. Arrange mantı in a single snug layer in the dish. Bake until fragrant and the corners are golden brown, about 25 minutes. Meanwhile, bring stock, cinnamon, bay leaves, 1 teaspoon of salt, and some cloves (should you choose to use them) to a boil in a saucepan. Remove baking dish from oven and add enough stock to the dish that all but the tops of the mantı are submerged. Cover tightly with parchment and then foil. Bake until soft, about about another 2-3 minutes more.

Mom and I went with option #2

Riley, ever the optimist and our constant companion

While you wait for the mantı to cook, start preparing the traditional sauces.

For sauce #1,  heat the garlic in a saucepan, then mix in the yogurt and season with salt to taste. For sauce #2, fry the butter in another saucepan with the red pepper flakes and paprika. 

Fresh out of the oven and looking pretty good

in the bowl, pre-sauce

Once the mantı are cooked, serve them in shallow bowl covered with the yogurt sauce and with the butter sauce drizzled on top. Mmm.

Fin.