Here’s what nobody tells you about traveling: the trips never really end. They just change form. They become the meals you crave at weird hours, the flavors you hunt down at an Asian market across town, the recipes you attempt on a Tuesday night because you need to feel that particular kind of alive again.

This week I was chasing Beijing.

I was craving Lao cu Huasheng — Beijing sweet vinegar peanuts — and dumplings. It took me a few days to track down all the ingredients. The only thing I couldn’t find at the local grocery store was Chinese black vinegar, so I ventured to the Asian market across town. Stepping through the doors, I was immediately hit by the smell of fish, the gleaming lanterns, and 22 varieties of vinegar. It was sensory overload in the best way. Weirdly, I felt at home. Exploration mode: activated.

I meandered through the aisles picking up comfort items from my time in Southeast Asia — an Asian pear, Fanta, a couple varieties of rice noodles, Chang beer, panda cookies, soy sauce, and eventually the black vinegar. My heart was full just a few minutes outside of my typical routine.

My next mission was the Lao cu Huasheng. They needed to soak for a bit, and who doesn’t love a little appetizer while you cook? I unshelled a few cups of peanuts — why I bought them in the shell, I have no idea. That took some effort. One hundred percent worth it. Those little nuggets of sweet and tang got me through the hard times ahead as I made dumplings. The Chang beer helped too.

While living in Beijing, I took a dumpling-making class. To say I struggled is an understatement. But I still make dumplings from time to time — potstickers, to be exact. They are never pretty. They are always delicious. I made the filling — ginger, cabbage, garlic, and ground pork — without a hitch, and honestly it tastes remarkably close to what I remember from Beijing. Then it was time to make the wrappers. Could I have bought them? Of course. Where’s the fun in that?

When I say I had flour all over my house, I’m underselling it. Rolled-out wrappers everywhere, flour dusted across multiple counter surfaces. The wrappers stuck a bit, but overall they looked rough and okay. It was time to fill them.

Then, one after another, they just disintegrated.

I’m not sure if my water-to-flour ratio was off, or if it was the type of flour, or what. But I was left with an enormous amount of dumpling insides and nothing to put them in.

So I cooked some rice noodles — Asian market for the win — boiled and drained them, then threw everything into a pan for a quick sauté. I have no idea what I made. Perhaps I am a fusion genius. It was delicious, and I would do it again.

Because that’s the thing about reaching back into a trip — it doesn’t always go the way you planned. But you stay curious, you try anyway, and somehow you end up exactly where you needed to be.