Frozen dumplings go straight into the boiling water

A bag of dumplings in the freezer is my plan for the autumn evenings when everyone gets home late, cold and hungry. Pelmeni with meat, vareniki with potato or cabbage: ten minutes and there's a hot bowl on the table, with a spoonful of soured cream melting on top. Once I tried to "help" by tipping them onto a plate to defrost first. Half an hour later the plate held one big sticky lump, and in the pan they split and lost half their filling.

Since then the rule has been simple: dumplings from the freezer go straight into boiling water, still frozen. That is what the packets of bought ones say too, and I follow the packet for the time. Defrosting isn't just bad for the dough. Meat dumplings sitting on a plate at room temperature are exactly the kind of food I don't want warming up slowly.

I use a big pan and plenty of water, at least a couple of litres for a family-sized handful, so it doesn't go off the boil for long when the frozen dumplings go in. Salt, a bay leaf, a few peppercorns. I drop them in by the handful, not the whole bag at once, and straight away stir gently along the bottom with a slotted spoon so they don't stick to it or to each other. Once the water comes back to the boil, I turn the heat down a little so it isn't bubbling too hard and the dough doesn't tear.

Floating doesn't mean they're done. They come up to the surface quite quickly, but the filling inside can still be cold. So I keep them going for as long as the packet says, or for homemade ones three or four minutes after they rise. Then I fish out the biggest one and cut it open. The filling should be steaming hot all the way through, with no pink and with clear juices. If I'm not sure, they get another couple of minutes. With meat, I don't take chances, and the cut one is the cook's reward anyway.

I lift them out with the slotted spoon into warm bowls, add a knob of butter so they don't stick together, and put soured cream, black pepper and some dill on the table. Some people like a splash of vinegar, some like the cooking water as a light broth with a few dumplings floating in it. On a dark, wet evening that bowl of broth is half the pleasure.

Homemade dumplings I freeze just as carefully. Straight after making them, before they have time to warm up and go soft, I spread them out on a floured board or tray, not touching, and put the tray in the freezer. Once they've frozen hard, I tip them into a bag and write the date on it. That way I can take a handful from the bag instead of attacking a frozen block with a rolling pin. I use them within a few months, while they still taste of something.

If dumplings have defrosted by accident, say the freezer door was left open, I don't refreeze raw ones; I cook them that day until steaming hot, or throw them out if they've been warm for long.

Leftover cooked dumplings are rare, but they happen. I cool them, get them into the fridge within two hours, and eat them within two days, fried in a pan with butter and onion until they are crisp and steaming hot all the way through. Reheated once, never twice.

Boiled frozen pelmeni with soured cream. Serves 2. About 15 minutes. You need 400–500 g frozen pelmeni or vareniki, 2 litres water, 1 tsp salt, 1 bay leaf, a few peppercorns, a knob of butter, soured cream and dill to serve. Bring the water to a rolling boil with salt, bay and pepper. Add the dumplings straight from frozen, a handful at a time, and stir gently along the bottom. When the water boils again, lower the heat a little. Cook for the time on the packet (homemade: 3–4 minutes after they float). Cut the largest one open: the filling must be steaming hot with no pink. Lift out, toss with butter, serve with soured cream. Contains gluten, egg (dough) and milk. Chill leftovers within 2 hours; eat within 2 days; reheat once until steaming hot.