From Harbin to Memphis

Shuxia grew up in a rural Chinese village near Harbin in northeast China. Her parents expected her to follow a traditional path at home. But Shuxia was a rebel girl, to the dismay and disapproval of her parents. “My parents had an older type of thinking, but I wanted to be independent and adventurous,” says Shuxia. “And that wasn’t the Chinese way for girls at that time.” 

She married Ming Liu at the age of 20 and hoped her new in-laws would be the supportive family she longed for. But the young couple learned that they would have to count on themselves. With grit and determination, they recycled bottles and wheeled a cart, selling fresh fruit in the summer and roasted sweet potatoes in the frigid winter. When that grind earned just enough, they poured their funds into a homemade tofu and noodle business, all while starting a family with the birth of their daughter. From there, they went to night markets and worked in restaurants, learning techniques and flavors that Harbin is famous for, like meat skewers and all things that can be dreamt from dough. Dumplings, buns, and noodles are an art form in northern China. 

After years of endless hours, sweat, and sacrifice, they recognized that China’s hierarchical society was not designed to allow people to work their way to a totally new life. “We wanted to see if that American dream really was possible,” Shuxia says. They left everything behind to work in Asian markets in New York, then Michigan, and back to New York. For years they worked tirelessly and with some success, but didn’t quite find the right environment that matched their entrepreneurial spirit. At the age of 47 and still determined, Shuxia heard of a job in an Asian market in the South. Lucky for Memphis, they headed to Viet Hoa Market in Midtown.

After working at the bustling market on Cleveland, the persistent Shuxia noticed an unused kitchen there and seized her chance to pilot a few recipes. This led to a small private catering business of her own, with weekly orders from local Chinese families thankful for flavors that reminded them of their mothers’ cooking. Those in the know were sending messages to an auspicious group chat to order dumplings and noodles each week; then they’d converge in a parking lot to grab the delights from Shuxia’s car. 

The success of this stoked her drive just as the wildly successful Asian Night Market in Memphis was taking off. “The Vietnamese American community in Memphis and the founder of the Night Market helped us. I want to make sure that message is shared,” says Shuxia. 

The popularity of their night market stand, with lines wrapped around the tent, was precisely the support they needed to confidently invest in their first brick and mortar where, today, eager families and couples line up to get inside. At the age of 57, the dreams of that rebellious young woman selling food from a cart finally came true. 

At the family table

Memphis has seen a wave of exciting new Asian restaurants, with stylish additions like Maru, Petals of Peony, Lao Sze Chuan, Bao Toan, and Kuya. And I’m here for it. Those restaurants have delivered exactly what the city wanted for date nights and celebrations, serving delicious food and a cool vibe.

MingXia offers something different: the kind of comforting, homestyle cooking that tastes less like a special occasion and more like being called to the dinner table.

Remember the scene in Ratatouille when the hardened food critic tastes one bite and is suddenly transported back to his childhood? I had my Ratatouille moment sitting at the simple table at MingXia. I ate and wept. 

The MingXia experience

Inside MingXia’s brightly lit dining room, you find chili-red chairs and the sounds of happy people slurping steaming plates of dumplings, noodles, buns, skewers, and the most prized of them all, Xiao Long Bao, or soup dumplings. Like Shuxia’s long journey, soup dumplings cannot be rushed. The magic is in the aspic broth that’s made with fresh ingredients over 48 hours, then cooled to form a jiggly solid. Wrapped in the homemade dough with tender meat filling and aromatic ginger and scallion, the delicately pleated dumpling is ready for the steamer. When gently cooked, the meat filling simmers in the now-melted broth, resulting in a pocket of heaven. 

Rookies must be warned not to pop the piping-hot dumpling in their mouths. Instead, with a surgeon’s hand, you must pick up the delicate dumpling by the pleated top and gently place it in your spoon. This is where aficionados will appreciate Shuxia’s technique, as the dough sags with the weight of the broth inside but doesn’t split. Chef’s kiss. It takes years of practice to master that. Then pierce the dumpling to release the soup and drink. And now, yes, you can eat the dumpling. Bonus points for those who add the black vinegar and julienned ginger for that zesty kick to balance the warm umami.

While the Xiao Long Bao is a must-have signature dish, there’s a long list of other musts that reflect Shuxia’s journey. The Zha Jiang Noodle is all good things at once—a porky, spicy, salty, smidge-of-sweet sauce that coats the chewy housemade noodles and is balanced by crisp, freshly julienned cucumbers. A hint of raw garlic and chili crisp rounds out the entire experience. 

And then there are the skewers. You can’t escape ordering when the wafting allure from a nearby table calls you. The tender lamb is seasoned with fragrant cumin and chiles and grilled to give you those perfect crispy edges that cause addiction. 

And don’t ignore the vegetables. The spinach with peanuts and sesame oil looks simple, but our table of teenagers and adults were fighting over the last morsels. And don’t get me started on the homemade chili crisp. It will make the legions loyal to Lao Gan Ma chili crisp question their allegiance and join the many who ask Shuxia when she’ll start selling jars of theirs. 

Everything at MingXia is handmade. They’re working from 8 a.m. to 11 p.m. every day, prepping dough, simmering broth, and stuffing dumplings. The menu continues to be a work in progress. Don’t be surprised if half the items are crossed out as they work to find the right balance of options to meet customer demand. And expect a wait. But good things are worth waiting for. Just ask Shuxia. 

The future of MingXia 

Shuxia’s inaugural restaurant is by all standards a success. But she’s still aspirational and talks about more locations and selling that heavenly chili crisp. “I’ve done all this at 57. Why can’t I expand by 60 or 67?” she asks.

Shuxia sat with me, delighted to hear me trying hard to use my broken Mandarin, and talking with manager Carson Fu, who helped interpret. We shared stories about our parents and discussed the immigrant experience, and I promised to bring my mother when she’s in town. 

In the restaurant, you’ll find Shuxia and Ming, their friends who have moved here from China, and of course their grown child. “All of this, this is my gift to my daughter,” Shuxia says as she proudly gestures towards the energetic young woman pleating dumplings behind the counter. “I want her to know her parents support her and, through sweat and tears, will give her whatever she needs to succeed.” 

Some restaurants feed you dinner. MingXia feeds you a story—one folded by hand through 57 years of struggle, sacrifice, and hope. I came for the dumplings. I left thinking about family and the power of food to carry us across oceans. Some meals fill you up. The rare ones take you home. 

MingXia Dumpling
1014 North Germantown Parkway, Suite 1014
@mingxiadumpling

Janet Lo has spent her career in the public and nonprofit sectors helping connect communities to resources, ideas, and each other. This is her first published food article, though she’s been giving unsolicited restaurant opinions for years. Her love language is dumplings. @janetyilo  

Buck Billings is a Memphis-based photographer and aspiring DJ. He captures Southern life through candid moments, celebrating its people and traditions, new and old. He enjoys good wine, live music, and hole-in-the-wall eats—and he’s always on the lookout for his next favorite spot. @buck.billings