Learning to fold dumplings

Text 1: Like Closing a Purse, by Lily Hartmann

An original novel extract.

Nai Nai set the bowl of filling between us and slapped a circle of dough into my palm. ‘Fold,’ she said, ‘then pinch. Like closing a purse.’ Her fingers moved so fast they blurred: a fold, eleven tiny pleats, and a plump dumpling sat on the tray like a sleeping bird. Mine leaked pork from both ends. The second one tore when I pressed it, and the third looked like a crumpled tissue. I could feel my face getting hot. I tried to copy the way she tucked the edge under her thumb, but my thumb was clumsy and the dough stuck to it. By the time Nai Nai had filled the whole tray, I had made four, each one a different shape. She picked up the worst of them, turned it over in the light, and said it would taste the same.

Give three words or phrases that show the narrator finds making dumplings difficult.