Unlike the Polish pierogi, traditional British dumpling is a dismal affair: a pallid blob typically found floating forlornly on a non-descript stew, the scent of which – were it to be patented by Yankee Candle – would be called Old People’s Home. Cut into one expecting to find something better inside and you’re sorely disappointed – there’s just more stodgy suet, or maybe a smattering of herbs if you’re very lucky. Quite how ‘dumpling’ has become a cutesy term of endearment is anyone’s guess.

Venture further afield, however, and you soon discover that other countries have taken the apparently radical and innovative step of actually giving their variant a filling. Ravioli in Italy, gyoza in Japan, momos in Nepal: all little parcels of joy compared to their bland British cousin.

This brings me back to the pierogi. Semi-circular in shape and with crimped edges, they look like miniature Cornish pasties, but are neither baked nor fried, instead briefly immersed in hot water much like fresh pasta. This diner first encountered them in a pub in Nottingham, where they were handmade by the landlord’s mum. Early this year, meanwhile, an eponymously-named stall set up shop in Cardiff Market.

Pierogi caters for those who crave classic fillings such as finely ground beef or cottage cheese and potato, but it also offers some slightly more unusual options that give this Eastern European comfort food a contemporary twist – including a buckwheat-based combo for the benefit of vegans. A confection of minced pork and forest mushrooms packs such an intense umami hit that the inclusion of butternut squash – low on my list of favourite veg – passes practically unnoticed, especially given the liberal garnish of bacon and chives. Meanwhile, the duck dumplings are a very welcome nod in the direction of China.

Unfortunately, the ‘plum sauce’ that accompanies the latter turns out to be an aggressively acidic flavoured mayo, and, on our first visit, the garlic dip is too runny – more of a pouring sauce (though this is rectified when we return a few weeks later). But a pot of Polish coleslaw is the essential side dish, and Pierogi’s version – crunchy, crisp and light (bound together using natural yoghurt as well as mayonnaise) – is spot on.

A large portion (seven pierogi) costs the best part of a tenner and constitutes a fairly substantial lunch, but you can opt for a small (four) if you’d prefer a lighter bite. And well you might, given the temptations of Pierogi’s neighbours at Cardiff Market, pizza joint Ffwrnes and spectacularly good Indian street food specialist Tukka Tuk. The balcony location means that the seating arrangements aren’t exactly sociable for groups, and the chairs are too low and railing too high for easy people-watching – but, amid reports of declining standards at other food courts like Sticky Fingers, the Market’s first-floor is rightly becoming a bigger draw.

Pierogi, Cardiff Market. Info: Instagram

words and photos BEN WOOLHEAD