Every time I make aushak for friends who haven’t tried them before, the same thing happens. They take a bite. They pause. They look at me with slight confusion, because nothing in their experience of dumplings has prepared them for this particular combination: thin pasta, leek filling, cold yoghurt, warm meat sauce, dried mint, and garlic oil all in a single mouthful.

Then they ask for the recipe. Every time.

Aushak are one of Afghan cuisine’s great underappreciated dishes. While mantu - the steamed lamb dumplings - tend to get the attention in Australian Afghan restaurants, aushak deserve equal standing. They’re lighter, more herbaceous, and the contrast of hot and cold, tangy and savoury makes them genuinely complex in a way that’s hard to describe until you’ve tasted it.

What Aushak Are

Aushak are boiled dumplings filled with a mixture of leeks (or sometimes Chinese chives) seasoned with salt, pepper, and sometimes a pinch of chilli flakes. They’re served topped with two sauces: a yoghurt-garlic sauce and a meat sauce made from minced lamb or beef cooked with tomatoes and split peas.

The finished plate is layered: dumplings on the bottom, yoghurt sauce over the top, meat sauce spooned over that, and a final drizzle of dried mint steeped in oil. It looks messy in the best possible way. Everything mingles on the plate, and each forkful picks up a different ratio of the components.

The dough is the same as for mantu - a simple flour and water dough rolled thin and cut into circles or squares. The filling is simpler than mantu’s lamb mixture, which makes aushak faster to prepare once you’ve got the folding down.

The Filling

The leek filling is where aushak differentiate themselves from every other dumpling tradition I know. Most dumpling cultures use meat fillings, or at least vegetable fillings with assertive flavours like ginger and garlic. Aushak’s leek filling is mild, almost sweet, with a gentle onion flavour that doesn’t compete with the sauces.

Start with about 500 grams of leeks. Use the white and light green parts. Slice them very thinly, then wash thoroughly - leeks trap grit between their layers and nothing ruins a dumpling faster than sand.

Wilt the sliced leeks in a pan with a small amount of oil over medium heat for about 5 minutes. You don’t want to brown them - just soften them until they lose their raw crunch. Season with salt, black pepper, and if you like, a pinch of red chilli flakes. Let the filling cool completely before filling the dumplings. Warm filling in thin dough creates steam, which makes the dough soggy and difficult to seal.

Some families add a small amount of chopped fresh coriander to the leek mixture. My mother doesn’t. She says the filling should taste of leeks and nothing else. The other flavours come from the sauces.

If you can’t find good leeks, Chinese chives (garlic chives) are a traditional alternative. They have a stronger flavour - garlicky rather than sweet - which changes the character of the finished dish. Both are legitimate. My family prefers leeks, but I’ve had excellent aushak made with chives at Afghan restaurants in Auburn, Sydney’s unofficial Afghan food capital.

The Dough

The dough for aushak is simple but requires attention.

Mix 2 cups of plain flour with about half a teaspoon of salt. Make a well in the centre and add approximately 150ml of warm water. Mix with a fork, then knead by hand for 8-10 minutes until the dough is smooth and elastic. If it’s sticky, add flour sparingly. If it’s dry and cracking, add water a teaspoon at a time.

Wrap the dough in cling film and rest it for at least 30 minutes. Resting lets the gluten relax, which makes rolling easier. Skip this step and you’ll fight the dough the entire time.

Roll the dough out as thin as you can manage - about 1-2 millimetres. This is the most labour-intensive part. A pasta machine makes it much easier, but a rolling pin and patience work fine. My mother rolls by hand and produces dough so thin you can almost see through it. I use a pasta machine and feel no shame about it.

Cut the dough into circles about 8 centimetres in diameter. Place a teaspoon of the cooled leek filling in the centre of each circle. Fold in half to form a half-moon shape and press the edges firmly to seal. Some families crimp the edges with a fork. Some fold the corners together to make a tortellini-like shape. The shape doesn’t affect the taste.

The Sauces

Aushak without its sauces is just a boiled leek dumpling. The sauces make the dish.

Yoghurt sauce: Mix 250ml of thick plain yoghurt with 2-3 cloves of garlic, finely minced or pressed. Add a pinch of salt. That’s it. Some families add a squeeze of lemon juice. The yoghurt should be at room temperature or slightly warm - cold yoghurt straight from the fridge cools the dumplings too quickly.

Meat sauce: Brown 250g of minced lamb (or beef) with a diced onion in a pot. Add a tablespoon of tomato paste, half a teaspoon of turmeric, salt, and pepper. Add about half a cup of yellow split peas (soaked for at least an hour beforehand) and enough water to cover. Simmer for 30-40 minutes until the split peas are soft and the sauce has thickened. The consistency should be like a thick ragu - not watery, not dry.

Mint oil: Heat a tablespoon of oil in a small pan. Remove from heat and stir in a tablespoon of dried mint. Let it steep for a few minutes. The oil turns dark green and smells intensely herbal. This goes on top at the very end.

Cooking and Assembly

Bring a large pot of salted water to a rolling boil. Cook the dumplings in batches - don’t crowd the pot or they’ll stick together. They take about 4-5 minutes to cook. They’ll float to the surface when they’re done. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain briefly.

Assembly is layered. Spread a thin layer of yoghurt sauce on the bottom of a serving platter. Arrange the dumplings in a single layer on top. Spoon more yoghurt sauce generously over the dumplings. Ladle the meat sauce over the yoghurt. Drizzle the mint oil on top.

Serve immediately. Aushak don’t hold well - the dough absorbs the sauces and gets soft if they sit too long.

When We Make Them

In my family, aushak are a weekend project. They’re not difficult, but the rolling, filling, and folding takes time, and it’s best done with company. My mother, my aunt, and I usually set up an assembly line: one person rolls, one fills and folds, one manages the boiling water.

The conversation during dumpling-making is half the point. Family news, opinions about everyone’s children, debates about whether the dough is thin enough (it’s never thin enough for my mother). These sessions have been happening in Afghan kitchens for generations, and they continue in kitchens across Sydney, Melbourne, and every city where Afghan families have settled.

If you’ve had mantu at an Afghan restaurant but never tried aushak, look for them on the menu next time. If they’re not listed, ask - many restaurants make them but don’t always advertise it. And if you can’t find them anywhere, make them yourself. The ingredients are ordinary. The result is anything but.