Preview of South Africa

It has been incredibly surreal, these last 10 days. My dearest husband decided that he would plan our best vacation ever a.k.a. the honeymoon. South Africa is truly, as one of our friends put it, 'beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful...' Sitting at the balcony of the Birkenhead House, with a dreamily misty view of the waves crashing against the cliff, seagulls flying above, and the gentle warmth of the afternoon sun enrobing my calves, I (and I assume Ed too) simply could not ask for more.

But of course, South Africa has more than 'just' that to offer. We've travelled from Johannesburg to Pretoria, to Cape Town, Stellenbosch and now Hermanus. While it may sound tiring for what has only been ten days, I assure you it was not. During our stay in Stellenbosch alone, Ed and I have discovered salads that rank among our top five salads ever, a cup of hot chocolate with hazelnut that really deserves to be a dessert in itself, how awesome freshly (and well) shucked live oysters are, and our new favorite snack of dried beef/game called biltong. I fully intend to put together the top five (or ten) must eat/live places in South Africa just based on this short trip that I hope will not be our last. In the meantime, here's a little collage to whet your appetites.

Perfect - Roasted Savoy Cabbage

In the perfect world, I would be home all day trying out recipes from my latest cookbook (thank you Sherwin and Vivien, I adore it!) or my favourite food magazine, and dreaming up recipes to test out on Ed when he returns home in the evenings. In the perfect world, I'd be rolling out almond tart dough at 3pm, caramelising fresh figs at 4pm, filling the almond tart shell with some sweet vanilla custard, the lightly wrinkled figs and crunchy toasted hazelnets an hour later, and savouring a glass of delicious Frontignac by 6pm with a rack of lamb slow roasting in the oven. In the perfect world, all this would be done in a huge and rustic looking woody kitchen with hanging copper pots and the kitchen island of my dreams. In an even more perfect world, endless rolling hills of tulips would sway in the wind when I peek out from the french windows dotting the walls of the kitchen.

Alas, tis not to be.

Apart from the fact that rolling hills of tulips are a little far-fetched for this little red dot, I recognise that there are trade offs I have to make. If I want the kitchen of my dreams, I need to stay gainfully employed to afford it. Kitchen or time, kitchen or time? I choose kitchen anytime!

I may not be building the ultimate kitchen of my dreams, but I daresay it will be nearly there - complete with a dishwasher. Finally! Ed has been most sweet by indulging me in my longtime fantasy, by suggesting (on his own volition, I swear!) to turn our newly purchased 3 bedroom apartment into a 2 bedroom apartment to expand the already sizeable kitchen. Of course, this fantasy does not come cheap. The little fortune that our impending renovations will cost us means my perfect world will not exist, at least not for the next couple of years.

In the meantime, I make do with any spare time I can find to dabble in the kitchen. Every now and then, Ed and I would find ourselves at the nearest 24-hour supermarket at 10pm 'just walking around'. It is an odd habit, but one I love and look forward to. Sometimes, even though it is pushing our bedtime, we (read: I) would go so far as to attempt to cook a full dinner/supper of a protein and a salad. With Ed, there's hardly a bad time for a 'snack'. One particular night, with the help of my iPhone and this awesome free app, I put together a meal of seared lamb rack with roasted savoy cabbage.

By the time we brought the groceries home, cooked and sat down at the dining table, it was close to midnight. But my fatigue from the long day was overtaken by the inexplicable happiness I experienced during the entire preparation. I know, I'm quite an oddball. I delighted in my small victory as I sliced the lamb rack and found just the right shade of pink staring back at me. While I accidentally burnt parts of the savoy cabbage, the large portion I managed to salvage were incredibly tasty and almost meaty even. It had a deep, earthy flavour that would really have benefited from the raisins I thought I had but didn't and therefore omitted. The dish may not have been perfect what with burnt bits and all, and I may not have been in that perfect world with figs and hazelnuts, but looking at Ed polish his plate and bones down to the last crinkly cabbage leaf with such rigour, I knew life was perfect.

And now as I gaze upon the unfamiliar, shiny band around my ring finger, life feels surreal, and that much more perfect. Who knew that the grubby-looking tennis teammate from junior college, with those massive (and scary) forehand drives, would clean up so well and become the man waiting for me at the end of the church aisle, 10 years down the road? There, I've finally said it. I'm married!

Click here for recipe of Roasted Savoy Cabbage.

Yuw Meng in Johor

Due to some problems with my laptop, the blogposts of the last couple of months (okay, probably longer) have only been about places/food when I had taken photos of those said places/food with my iPhone. Having just gotten my laptop fixed, I am now faced with a multi-lemma - which awesome food experience should I blog about first? There's this awesome dinner that revolved around a duck stuffed with turkey and chicken - an interesting adaptation of the often attempted Turducken at Christmas celebrations, a Penang trip where I discovered the wonderful eats at Kimberly Street and an incredibly light egg white batter for fish and chips that I found in Damien Pignolet's French cookbook, among many others. After possibly too much deliberation, I decided it would be a travesty not to first blog about this amazing eatery in our neighboring country that I had the fortune to visit in April this year.

A mere 45 minute car ride from Singapore, into a rather desolated place in Johor, Malaysia, is a small town called Kulai. And within Kulai, is an even smaller coffeeshop called Yuw Meng selling your usual tze char (see Wikipedia for definition of 'tze char') fare and then some. If exotic food is not up your alley, don't let the sight of a deep-fried squirrel on its menu scare you as I assure you the rest of its menu is more... sane. Fortunately, Ed and I were accompanied by 2 regular patrons who knew exactly what to order, and who had appetites as big as (if not bigger than) Ed's. With the smallest appetite in the group, I definitely gained the most out of this arrangement as we could order for four persons what would comfortably feed 8, to have a wide sampling of their food.

To start off the meal however, we had a glass of ice cold beer each, under our companions' insistence. It was, very simply, a bottle of Heineken, poured into small frosty glasses for each of us. Not being a fan of all types of beer, except when mixed with a little ginger beer for a shandy, I was initially unimpressed. That is until I took a sip. Beneath that simple presentation and thick beer head were tiny shards of beer icicles, creating the most amazing texture and sensation when drunk. My best guess at how they managed this is by super-freezing their glasses just before serving, perhaps with nitrogen. But it is difficult to imagine this roadside coffeeshop storing a couple of canisters of nitrogen in its kitchen.

In general, the food was excellent. Every dish well-executed, with all the wok hei we had hoped for in our meal. The picture above shows Ed's and my favourite dishes of the night. The dish of scallops, lotus root, celery, carrots, snowpeas and macadamia nuts were, very surprisingly, Ed's top dish. He eats his vegetables, but they almost always seem like an afterthought in our meals and an obligatory attempt at getting some fibre into our diet amidst the copious amounts of carbohydrates and protein. So to hear that he enjoyed that particular dish the most certainly caught me by surprise. I tried recreating the dish back home, and apart from the wok hei, I also couldn't re-engineer the incredible crunch of the thin slivers of lotus root.

As for the dish that stole my heart, it is difficult to decide whether it was the spicy fried cockles or the homemade tofu with century egg. Few know that I have a love affair with all sorts of molluscs, especially cockles. Of course, Ed knows. When he has laksa, he would selflessly order more cockles despite not really liking the taste, and fish out all the cockles out for me. So you can imagine my delight when our companions at Yuw Meng ordered a plate of cockles fried with a smattering of chopped bird's eye chilli. Each cockle, extraordinarily fresh and plump, carried a little sweetness and made the long queue at the Causeway (when Malaysia introduced a new fingerprinting system for all entering visitors) a distant memory.

But the homemade tofu was perfection. Served with quarters of century egg and sweet thai chilli sauce, and garnished with chopped spring onion, homemade tofu never tasted so good. If I wasn't already so stuffed by the time the dish arrived, I would have happily ordered another serving of that tofu all for myself.

The other also stellar dishes we had included fried hokkien mee, fried mee sua, steamed fish head, sharks' fin soup, black pepper crab, and fried pork spare ribs. (See below.) Without belabouring the point, the food was excellent and worth many return trips. We recently met up with one of our travel companions at that time, and my heart jumped with joy when he suggested organising another such trip soon.

Yuw Meng
44 Jalan Serulin 2
Taman Seri Kulai
81000 Kulai
Johor, Malaysia

For directions, click here.

Bali Eats

In preparation for an upcoming wedding (of mine that is) I decided to take leave from work for almost 1 month leading up to the wedding. To be clear however, my preparatory work involves mainly nursing those dark eye bags back where they came from, smoothening out the fine lines that have been creeping out of the corners of my eyes and, if heaven permits, banishing those scars left behind from zits that popped out as a form of protest against a combination of irregular/too little sleep and poor diet.

What better way to start off the break than a trip to Bali with some of my best buds, and of course my best friend and husband-to-be? Courtesy of recommendations from friends, we had pretty awesome meals at Metis (a french restaurant with mind-blowing foie gras), Made Warung (a restaurant whose Nasi Campur is delicious), Kolega (a local institution serving Nasi Padang and a beef soup that must not be missed), Ibu Oka (serving roast pig aka Babi Guling that runs out so fast we wished we set out for lunch earlier) and Naughty Nuri's (whose finger-lickin good ribs and insanely powerful Martini make for great games or conversations around the table).

I'm such a late bloomer and only realized the trove of good eats that is Bali. And even though many say it is slowly losing it's charm with greater commercialization of it's streets, increasingly jammed roads, and more polluted beaches, I don't think that's the last of Bali Ed and I will see.

Till then, perhaps I should try to recreate those crazy ribs from Naughty Nuri's! If anyone has a good roasted pork rib recipe, please share!

Totally Chocolate Chocolate Chip Cookies

Half an hour into watching Nigella Lawson whip up a batch of 12 giant cookies in her Kitchenaid, Ed looked at me with a pitiful expression and described how much he wanted to eat them. I suppose it was no coincidence that the look came right after Nigella Lawson revealed that half a kilogram of chocolate went into those 12 cookies.

Suddenly inspired and thinking of the big block of Valrhona Dark Chocolate I had stashed away in the refrigerator, I pulled my Kitchenaid out of the sad recesses of the kitchen and placed it in it's rightful throne - between the sink and stove.

And these cookies were good! I wouldn't advise eating more than 1 at a go, though Ed downed 4 easily.

Now I'm thinking brioche or cinnamon rolls or just plain old brownies!

Making Chicken Rice

I generally shy away from cooking Southeast Asian food because they require so many different types of spices and so much effort, not to mention the fact that a very good rendition is probably available a hop and a skip away from wherever I am and can be purchased for a song.

However, ever since I tried making Tom Yam soup and Pho Bo, and realized how easy those were, I've learnt to question these assumptions and have been more open to cooking (or at least attempting to) Southeast Asian food. In some ways, you can say Ed's soft spot for food from around the region has been a key motivating factor as well.

That is not to say that I've been particularly successful at my attempts though. In my previous entry I mentioned how the Assam Laksa took a painful two and a half hours to complete. Mind you, there were three, sometimes four, persons working on the dish at any one time.

Today, I was inspired by Adam Liaw's cookbook with a recipe for Chicken Rice - possibly one of Ed's top five favorite dishes, ever. It sounded simple enough and the ingredient list was not too long nor diverse. All was well - forty minutes into the cooking and I was almost done. Minimal washing up seemed to be required (I cheated and used the rice cooker to fry the rice first) and the smell in the kitchen was promising.

And then I had to chop the chicken.

Even with a sharp cleaver and all the determination I could muster, I could not make clean, decisive chops at the chicken. Worse still, I wasn't prepared for all the juices to spill out of the chicken's cavity, onto the chopping board, countertop and down the kitchen cupboards before finally reaching the kitchen floor in all it's greasy goodness.

But after some (more) struggle and compromises (drumsticks and wings left whole), I managed to get the chicken onto a plate of sliced cucumbers. With newfound respect for those uncles (and the occasional aunty) who chop chicken in the shops, I tucked into the chicken rice with Ed. After all that effort, would I make it again? Maybe!

Adam Liaw's recipe worked quite well and on the whole it was tasty. I liked the fact that I had very little chopping to do, apart from the chicken. Mainly whole cloves of garlic or thick slices of unpeeled ginger were used. I made chicken rice before, using other recipes and Adam's unusual step of wrapping the cooked chicken in cling wrap after brushing it with sesame oil might have lent itself to the silky smooth skin. While I wasn't too sure about the chilli sauce recipe - I doubled the recipe and used a whopping 11 bird's eye chillies - they turned out well in the end. The bright tang of the lemon juice freshened up the dish, and for some reason the sauce was not as spicy as I thought it would turn out to be.

Can't wait to try his other recipes!

Ultra Pride

Ever since I bought my robin blue Kitchenaid, I haven't lusted after any other kitchen appliance.

One would say I'm a pretty blessed woman. I have a cast iron cocotte for stews and braises, a Microplane for crazy fine shavings of parmesan without so much as lifting my pinkie, a Calphalon Chef's Pan for Sunday morning fry-ups or Sunday night paella (works just as well, from stove to oven) and an electric knife sharpener so I never have to struggle when slicing tomatoes for salads, among many other splurges for the kitchen. Don't get me wrong here, I don't regret any of these purchases, but I have to strike a balance between fattening my kitchen with yet another tool that will trim my cooking time and effort by another 5-10%, and simply simply saving up for a 'nest' (boy do I hate being an adult).

But even as I try to be more sensible in my daily expenditure, I find I cannot help but lust after the Ultra Pride (pictured above). After spending a phenomenal two and a half hours the previous weekend pounding away at turmeric, lemongrass, garlic and (my worst enemy) dried chillies to create Assam Laksa, I decided that all the effort was not worth it. While it was a somewhat successful attempt at the dish, even as I was chowing down the slippery rice noodle with the thick flavorful mackerel-based soup, I told myself that the next time I wanted to make Assam Laksa, I would abandon the idea as quickly as the idea came to mind.

That was until I chanced upon the Ultra Pride. Reading posts on egullet about how it mechanically pounds both wet and dry spices into a reluctant but smooth paste, I'm thinking this might be it. This might be just what the chef prescribed to demolish that wall between me and all other delectable Southeast Asian dishes. Beef rendang, Thai green curry, Mee Siam even, or Laksa Lemak! Perhaps it is time to take another plunge towards making my kitchen that bit more perfect and away from you-know-what. (!)

Radicchio Salad

I blogged about Orangette's wonderful read, and the accompanying recipes before. I haven't yet (cross fingers!) attempted a recipe of hers that doesn't work like a dream. Not only have they been a cinch to put together, they have always been packed with flavor. Her Radicchio Salad with Garlic and Black Pepper epitomises this beautifully.

Using a sharp mandolin (not sure why you would keep a blunt one anyway), thinly shred a small head of radicchio. Mix 2 tablespoons of lemon juice and olive oil each, to a minced clove of garlic and a dash of black pepper. Pick up a shred of radicchio, dip it into the dressing and eat it. Adjust dressing if necessary - I added just a tad more lemon juice and olive oil for a more luscious coating to each shred. Serve with parmesan shavings and tuck in!

The unexpected find in Turkey

Ever since I joined my current organisation, I had been working primarily on just one. big. project. I would say that 80% of my time was dedicated to writing papers, setting up meetings, attending meetings, writing notes of meetings, clearing those notes or papers, rinsing and repeating the whole process just for this project. There was hardly any time to sleep at times, let alone take a vacation.

So when I discovered that I would have a sliver of a breather right after one of the larger milestones in the project, Ed and I promptly took leave and started plotting. We were still undecided about where we would go, right up to 1 month before we took leave but we (or rather Ed) knew we wanted to go to somewhere exciting like the Middle East. So we found a couple of other travel companions, DS and XM, and finally decided on Beirut (Lebanon), with the hope that we would be able to get a Syrian visa there to cross the border into Syria.

Well, we tried to get the visa on the 2nd day and promptly failed. What happened next unfolded very gradually and almost rather unexcitingly, though upon hindsight it seems quite the adventure. We chanced upon a travel agency and decided to pop in to explore our options. We looked at places nearby that didn't require a visa and deliberated over stretching our itinerary in Lebanon across another 4-5 days - possibly even going to the mountains for some skiing that Ed had suggested while we were in Singapore but which the rest of us had vetoed. But scanning through the Lonely Planet guidebook, the latter option of spending the entire 10-11 days in Lebanon didn't look promising - yes, this was quite the Asian mindset we had. So we decided we would go to Istanbul (Turkey)!

Looking back, I'm glad we did. Who knows how our Jordan trip would have turned out, but being in Istanbul was exactly how I had expected a trip to Middle East to be. It was full of stopovers for coffee, shisha (much to XM's and my chagrin) and absolutely colourful markets that were a tad touristy. I put my bargaining skills to much good use and got relatively good deals for 4 handbags (that Ed bought for his grandma, mum and 2 sisters, awww), travel totes, a large handmade ceramic salad bowl, a matching trivet, an adorable pomegranate inspired vase and a handmade rose quartz statement ring.

Naturally, when Ed and I spotted 'Istanbul Eats', we jumped at it. Well, almost. We spotted it in a souvenir shop within the Blue Mosque compound and thought it was surely overpriced in the shop. So we left it there and went hunting for it elsewhere only to realise it was much more expensive everywhere else. While beating ourselves up about it over coffee in a quirky cafe cum jewellery shop (where we bought the rose quartz ring for me), we spotted the book at a lower price to boot and grabbed it with much aplomb.

The next couple of days were full of great, great eats. The good thing about the book is that it doesn't only review mid-range to high end restaurants. In fact, most of the reviews are of affordable holes-in-the-wall that have great, tasty something. It could be anything from liver to doner kebaps, from sheeps' heads to kofte. With the book's blessings, we were almost constantly stuffed. Thank goodness for the fact that we chose to explore the city by foot most of the times, and for the occasional times we had to walk up and down the same street looking for the elusive holes in the wall.



But the most enjoyable meal we had was probably this place we chanced upon on the last night we spent in Istanbul. We were hunting down this place that served Uighur food, but found out when we arrived that they closed at 7pm (!!). Having been looking forward to trying Uighur food, I was seriously bummed out. I tried to make the best of the situation by looking for other recommended eateries in the neighbourhood. It was already about 8pm and my companions and I had travelled relatively far to this Uighur eatery, so everyone was pretty ravenous. But perhaps because this was going to be our last meal in Istanbul, we were all game to find the other recommended eateries.

We were well on our way to a place just 2 streets down when we stumbled upon a small bustling eatery called Direkler Akasi (Sehzadebasi Cad, No. 18 Eminonu) that had platters of marinating chicken, beef and lamb tempting us through the displays. There was a small queue of locals right outside, all armed with a shot of turkish coffee or tea, and the waiters were not calling at us to go inside. The last point, we found out the difficult way, was quite a reliable indicator that the place was worth eating in. Ed and I were walking ahead of our companions, and when we turned back to look at them, their eyes said it all and we promptly joined the queue.

What happened in the next hour or two was pure heaven. We left the guys to order a smorgasbord of meats and feasted like we hadn't eaten for days. The roast chicken was so incredibly tasty and juicy, that it trumped the incredibly tender salt-baked lamb we tried just the night before. Even Ed, whose one true love after me is lamb, agreed. We liked the roast chicken so much that we order another 3 platters of it after we finished the first round of meat. It is a place I will return to in a heartbeat, and I pray that it never moves away. (Or if it does, that I will find it.)

The food we tried with the blessings of Istanbul Eats was really good. But chancing upon Direkler Arasi and having such a mind-blowing experience, really taught me that I must always keep my options open and not always stick to the path well trodden.

For insanely good roast chicken that you really have to try:
Direkler Akasi
Address: Sehzadebasi Cad, No. 18 Eminonu

For flavourful rice, homely chicken soup, chicken breast pudding and best of all, their chicken gizzards (picture above):
Kismet Muhallabecisi
Address: Kucukpazar Cad. 68, Eminonu, Istanbul
Phone: 212-513-6773


For syrian food, especially their salt-baked lamb:
Akdeniz Hatay Sofrasi
Address: Ahmediye Cad. No: 44/A, Fatih
Telephone: 212-531-3333
Web: http://www.blogger.com/www.akdenizhataysofrasi.com.tr



For crazy good kaymak - Turkish version of clotted cream:
Besiktas Kaymakci
Address: Koyici Meydani Sok., Besiktas
Telephone: 212-258-2616



For a once in a lifetime experience with sheep's head - brain, eyes and all:
Sinasi Usta’s Kelle Tandir (roasted and served hot)
Senin Ciger ve Tavuk Pazarlama
Address: Sahne Sk. 18, Balikpazari, Beyoglu
Telephone: 212 245 4312
10 TL/head
9AM-6PM



For an incredible grilled/fried fish meal:
Sultanahmet Fish House
Address: Prof Kazim Ismail Gurkan, Caddesi 14 Cagaloglu
Telephone: 212 527 4445
12PM - 11PM


Sorry for the bad photo, the lighting in the restaurant was incredibly dim.

Before I left my last workplace, one of my colleagues, SS, gave me the book - A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes from My Kitchen Table. SS also wrote me a very sweet note and explained that the book was 'a reminder of the ability of food blogs to move people.' How true. The book was written by Molly Wizenberg, the wonderful writer behind the food blog 'Orangette'. I've been reading her food blog, and have always been taken in by how grounded and accessible her food blog is.

So when I felt like I had lost some pizzazz in my steps, it was only apt that I picked up the book again. It was like the much needed breath of fresh air that I needed. Together with the sporadic episodes of Junior Masterchef that I managed to catch on cable tele, I felt life return to my fingertips. Among other things, I felt like making buttery scones, clotted cream, poached pears, hearty soups and roasting a rack of lamb.

I've tried 2 recipes from Molly's book so far, and both have worked great. The later one I tried - French Style Yogurt Cake with Lemon - was truly stellar. It is a humble looking cake that was perfectly moist, sweet and had just the right amount of tang. I've never felt so proud of any cake I've baked in the past and am grateful to both SS and Molly for having brought this amazing yogurt cake into my life. It got rave reviews from family and is practically gone.

To end this post, here's a photo, ala Orangette, of today's tea.

Update: I brought it to work and got many thumbs up too.

French-Style Yogurt Cake with Lemon
From 'A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes from my Kitchen Table'
Ingredients
1 1/2 cups plain flour
2 tsp baking powder
pinch of salt
2 tsp grated lemon zest
1/2 cup well-stirred plain yogurt (not low fat/nonfat)
1 cup sugar
3 large eggs
1/2 cup vegetable oil (e.g. canola)

Syrup - 1/4 cup sifted powdered sugar and 1/4 cup lemon juice
Icing - 1 cup sifted powdered sugar and 3 tbsp lemon juice
(I found that I had to double the icing recipe to adequately coat my cake.)

Method
Preheat oven to 180 degrees celcius.
Grease a 9-inch round cake pan with butter or cooking spray.
Line the bottom of the pan with a round baking paper, and grease it too.
In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder and salt. Add lemon zest and whisk again.
In a large bowl, combine yogurt, sugar and eggs, stirring to mix well.
Add flour mixture and stir to just combine.
Add oil and stir well until it comes together into a smooth, pale yellow batter.
Pour into prepared pan and bake for 25 - 35 minutes until a toothpick inserted into the centre comes out clean. Do not overbake.

In the meantime, combine the ingredients for the syrup and icing.
(You may choose to add only the syrup or only the icing, or to add both. I added both to great effect.)

When the cake is done, cool it in the pan on a wire rack for 15 minutes.
Run a thin knife around the edge of the pan and invert it onto a wide, flat plate.
Remove and discard the baking paper.
Invert the cake back onto the wire rack so that it sits upright with the slightly domed side facing up.

Set the wire rack over a rimmed baking sheet.
Spoon the syrup slowly atop the warm cake - do not worry if some of the syrup runs down the sides and onto the baking sheet.
Let the cake cool completely.

Spoon the smooth icing over the cooled cake and serve immediately (when the icing is soft and juicy) or after 1 hour (when the icing has set).

Goong Xi Fa Cai!

I've got so much to blog about - a (not so) recent trip to Beirut and Istanbul where my companions and I ate particularly well and tried a dish we know we will never eat again, a Coq au Vin Blanc recipe I tried which was tres easy and delicious, and my favourite salad place just around the corner from where I live.

Instead, I thought I would blog about a trusty Tom Yam Goong recipe that has come in handy the past 3 years when helping my mum prepare the reunion dinner of Steamboat/Hot Pot. I used to think that there was nothing that could beat the convenience of pre-packaged Tom Yam Goong paste that only required a bit of hot water to turn into a fiery and satisfying red soup. When I received the cookbook 'Inside the Southeast Asian Kitchen' as a gift, and read how easy it was to make Tom Yam Goong from scratch, I was pleasantly surprised and strangely compelled to try it for myself. The most time consuming part is probably making a trip down your local supermarket to find the ingredients - the most elusive of which is probably the galangal. Once you've gotten your hands on the 8 main ingredients, you literally need only 10 minutes to peel/slice/crush before everything bubbles away in a pot. I've never looked back since.

Tom Yam Goong for Steamboat

Adapted from 'Inside the Southeast Asian Kitchen'

Serves 4

Ingredients

Shells and heads of 400 gms of prawns (raw prawns can be served for guests to cook in the hot pot)

5 bird's-eye chillies, crushed

2 stalks lemongrass, thinly sliced

2 cm piece of galangal (blue ginger), thinly sliced

4 kaffir lime leaves, torn

6 coriander roots, crushed

Fish sauce

Lime juice (I like mine from the bottle for the kick that is sometimes difficult to pin down with fresh limes. These bottles of lime juice can be found at Thai-specialty stores such as those in Golden Mile Centre.)

Method

Place prawn heads and shells in a large pot, and cover it with 1 liter of water

Bring to boil then add lemongrass, galangal, kaffir lime leaves and coriander root.

Simmer for at least 30 minutes.

Skim off scum as you go.

Add lime juice and fish sauce by the tablespoons to taste

Just before serving, add chillies. (To increase the heat, add more chillies or simmer the stock a while longer before serving)

There was a time in my life when I couldn't get enough of salads. At one point, my favourite was the Soba Noodle Salad from Brewerkz that came with generous portions of teriyaki chicken and a refreshing, umami, soy-sauce based dressing. The servings were unusually large for salads in Singapore and were sometimes more than sufficient as a meal on it's own.

But having it twice a week and many weeks later, I quickly got tired of it and had nowhere else, but my own kitchen, to turn to for a pick-me-up on days my body just craved for the crunch and sweetness of fresh lettuce or baby spinach.

Thankfully, not too long after, Ed and I discovered that the Italian restaurant just a stone's throw away from my place served a rather awesome antipasti salad. But that's a story for another day.

I have always been on the lookout for salads generous and hearty enough as a meal. I even contemplated setting up 'The Big Salad Place' because I was convinced of this gap in the market.



Then came along The Salad Shop that was everything I dreamed of and then some!

Tucked away at the UOB building, The Salad Shop faces the Singapore River with the Asian Civilisations Museum just across. You get to choose if you'd like a rabbit portion of salad (when you are just feeling peckish), or a zebra portion or an elephant portion. I, of course, went straight for the largest.

I could choose what type of leaves I wanted as my 'base', and up to 9 types of ingredients to add. Finally, I had to pick one out of about 15 types of salad dressings they had on the order form. I simply deposited my order form at the counter and queue to pay. The salad was then sent to my table by one of the waiters wearing a bright colored t-shirt with an animal print.



Simple, fun, ingenious and absolutely tasty! All the (very fresh) leaves are pre-washed, dried and hand-tossed through the dressing before they are decorated with the other ingredients. The broccoli wasn't overcooked, I had large pieces of smoked salmon, and the lemon vinaigrette had just the right amount of tang. My colleagues and I were fortunate to have arrived just before 12pm. By 1230pm, the place was fully packed.

This place makes you say 'Dang! I wish I had thought of that/done that sooner.' I'm definitely returning to get my regular hit of salad. FINALLY!

Manhill Restaurant

Ed and I were on Sentosa yesterday morning and trawled the internet for places worth having lunch at on the island. We came across good reviews of places that were too expensive for our mood and bad reviews of places that fit our budget. While I was still flicking through pages of reviews on my iPhone (I finally got one!) in hopes of finding a suitable lunch venue, Ed excitedly recalled a restaurant called 'Manhill Restaurant', just down the road from the entrance to Sentosa, which he had always wanted to try. I brushed aside all instincts to stay on the island (since we would have to pay to enter the island in future) and decided to check out this place he had mentioned a few times before but never tried because of its elusive location.

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Armed with my iPhone's GPS - gone are the days of driving in endless circles - we confidently made our way to Manhill Restaurant. At the same time, I read online reviews of the restaurant and was thoroughly entertained by the vivid descriptions of the food posted by fans of the restaurant. By the time we found parking near the restaurant, we already knew which signature dishes we were going to order.

And so, despite not being incredibly hungry, Ed and I ordered 4 dishes - Paper-wrapped Chicken, Claypot Beef, Sambal Kangkong, Apple Soup (clockwise from top right) - and finished it! The dishes were unassuming, flavourful and flawlessly executed. Each dish was comforting to the last bite. Where it was meant to be juicy, it was. Where it was meant to be crunchy, it was. Where it was meant to be rich and gorgeously silky and perfumed with garlic and onions, it most certainly was! I was so bowled over from the meal that I have been spreading this wonderful treasure to colleagues and friends ever since.

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On the way home, Ed and I talked about the dishes we would order again (chicken, for sure) and other dishes we would want to try (pork ribs, eight treasures claypot) the next time we return. Considering how stuffed we were when we were having the conversation, that is certainly a very good sign.

[Update: We went back and the pork ribs are to die for. So are the prawns fried in black bean sauce.]

Manhill Restaurant

99 Pasir Panjang Road

Tel: 6474 6835

Moving poem I just had to share

I slept and dreamt that life was joy;
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I awoke and saw that life was duty;
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I acted, and behold, duty was joy.
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- Rabindranath Tagore

Curry in bed

10 days in Sri Lanka, and heckofalot of curry later, I'm back in Singapore and missing the lazy mornings. Well, they were mostly lazy, except for those crazy mornings my travel companions wanted to climb Adam's Peak. (Of course, Ed and I barely started before we turned back. We blame the fried rice we had the night before.)



Sri Lanka was really great. It is an unusual holiday destination among many Singaporeans. Most of my friends I told thought I was going for work, and only few could fathom why Ed, my garang travel companions, C and F, and I were so hyped up about going. When we arrived, I had no doubt we made the right decision. Thankfully, the four of us seemed to share one common and unspoken understanding - that the holiday should be absolutely indulgent.

We slept well and ate very well. Finding food was generally not a problem, especially with a trusty lonely planet guidebook. Well, apart from that one 'budget' meal we had in a shady mafia-like setting. I'll let the photos do the talking.

Pho Bo

Pho (pronounced 'Fer') is a dish almost synonymous with Vietnamese cuisine over here in Singapore. The closest rival would be those crunchy and delicious rice paper rolls, which cannot do without the piquant dipping sauce of fish sauce, lime juice, sugar, garlic and a touch of chilli padi.

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During Chinese New Year, my mum wanted to do something different and less fussy than the usual Chinese reunion dinner dishes. Since she had just been to Hanoi and brought back many packets of rice paper, she was naturally inclined towards incorporating the rolls into our reunion dinner. This was a perfect opportunity for me to try making some Pho Bo, even though the thought of trying my hand at a dish that Ed eats frequently was terribly stressful.

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By the time I realised the high expectations my family had of this Pho Bo I was preparing, it was too late. I had already filled up two big pots with stock made from beef bones and marrow, fish sauce, star anise, cloves and rock sugar. There was nothing else in the fridge that could stand in as a main dish for the meal. It sure smelt heavenly, but I was plagued with fear that it would taste nowhere as good as the aromas seemed to promise.

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Alas, my worst fears were realised with the first spoonful of stock I tasted. It tasted nothing like the flavourful soup usually associated with Pho Bo - meaty, slightly tangy, with a hint of spice. I took another spoonful and this time tried to figure out what was lacking. Usually, it just needs a bit of salt, so I added more salt. And more. But there was something else missing - perhaps it was fish sauce. So tablespoon by tablespoon I added more fish sauce in desperation to salvage the 2 big pots of nothingness, and them into 'something edible'.

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Slowly but surely, the soup became more and more palatable. Wait, perhaps it is even delicious! I threw in a few stalks of holy basil for good measure, spooned the soup into waiting bowls of noodle and thin slices of beef, then hoped for the best. As I brought the last bowl out into the dining room, I could only hear slurping of noodles.

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I was on tenterhooks waiting for the verdict and was taking my first bite when finally someone spoke. Great news, the Pho Bo was a hit! I watched with satisfaction as my family finished their very generous helpings of Pho Bo, 'garnished' with artery-clogging beef marrow, and then went back for seconds. Ed even paid me the highest compliment ever - that it was the best bowl of Pho Bo he had ever tried. And I believe him, not just because I want to, but also because I know he would never lie. Not especially when it comes to something so close to his heart - Pho Bo.

Pho Bo - Vietnamese Rice Noodles Soup with Beef
(Adapted from Epicurious)
Serves 6

Ingredients
2kg beef bones
1.5kg beef marrow
2 (3 inch) pieces of giner, cut in half lengthwise, lightly bruised with the flat side of a knife, and lightly charred (see note below)
2 yellow onions, peeled and charred (see note below)
1/4 fish sauce, and then some to taste
3 tablespoons sugar or equivalent of rock sugar
10 whole star anise, lightly toasted in a dry pan
6 whole cloves, lightly toasted in a dry pan
1 tablespoon sea salt, and then some to taste

500g dried 1/16 inch wide rice sticks, soaked, cooked and drained
200g sukiyaki beef i.e. beef sirloin, thinly sliced across the grain

1/3 cup chopped coriander
400g beansprouts
10 sprigs of holy basil/thai basil
6 chilli padi, cut into thin rings
3 limes, halved


Method

In a large stockpot, bring 6 quarts water to a boil.
Place the bones and marrow in a second pot and add water to cover.
Bring to a boil and boil vigorously for 5 minutes. Using tongs, carefully transfer the bones and marrow to the first pot of boiling water. Discard the water in which the meat cooked. (This cleans the bones and reduces the impurities that can cloud the broth.)
When the water returns to a boil, reduce the heat to a simmer.
Skim the surface often to remove any foam and fat.
Add the charred ginger and onions, fish sauce and sugar.

When the broth has been simmering for about 1 1/2 hours total, wrap the star anise and cloves in a tea bag/cheesecloth and add to the broth.
Let infuse until the broth is fragrant, about 30 minutes.
Remove and discard both the spice bag and onions.
Add the salt and continue to simmer, skimming as necessary, until you're ready to assemble the dish.
The broth needs to cook for at least 2 hours.

To serve, place the cooked noodles in preheated bowls. (If the noodles are not hot, reheat them in a microwave or dip them briefly in boiling water to prevent them from cooling down the soup.)
Place a few slices of the raw beef on the noodles.
Bring the broth to a rolling boil; ladle about 2 to 3 cups into each bowl.
The broth will cook the raw beef instantly.
Garnish with coriander.
Serve immediately, inviting guests to garnish the bowls with bean sprouts, basil, chilies and lime juice.

Note on charring ginger/onions:
To char ginger, hold the piece with tongs directly over an open flame or place it directly on a medium-hot electric burner.
While turning, char until the edges are slightly blackened and the ginger is fragrant, about 3 to 4 minutes.
Char the onions in the same way.
Peel and discard the blackened skins of the ginger and onions, then rinse and add to the broth.

For I am only human

We all have our weaknesses. Not so recently, I added another weakness to my already ridiculously long list, which includes but is not limited to a soft spot for elegant tableware, a penchant for leather bags (sadly, at my pay scale I can only lust after them), and a perpetual craving for all forms of Japanese food, especially hotate.

This new weakness of mine is the yearning to have supper more often than not, once the hour hand of the clock hovers over '11'. I do not consume tiny dinners, no, that's not possible with Ed around. With a voracious appetite like his, we often order too much than we need. Yet sometimes I find myself craving for something else a couple of hours later.

And so does he.

So we have stashes of food that keep well and can be whipped up in a flash. We have progressed from packets of salt and vinegar crisps that need no cooking at all, to cold soba that's deliciously refreshing on warm, stuffy nights. Our latest is instant fish congee, with a lightly beaten egg stirred into it at the end and topped off with some sesame oil and chopped spring onion. Admittedly, this takes a little more time that many are willing to commit to for a quick late night fix. But good things truly come to those who wait.

Eaten in the comfort of a chilly room set at arctic temperatures (of course this means your room will smell of fish porridge for the rest of the night), it was blissful. It was one of those nights when we could only hear the clock and our stomachs grumbling. But not for long. This is one supper I'm willing to repeat over and over again even though it comes straight out of a packet.

I suppose that means I should add 2 new weaknesses to my list - eating supper (frequently) and eating pre-packed instant food. Eeks.

Christmas Cookies

I mentioned in my last post that this Christmas has been rather unusual. Ever since I got started on throwing dinner parties for friends (read: using friends as guinea pigs for new recipes), I have had a Christmas party every year for my close group of girlfriends - the ones with voracious appetites. Except this year.

Perhaps it is because this year we decided to run away to Phuket for a quick weekend trip instead. Perhaps it is because I got lazy. Whatever it is, I didn't throw any party. I did however, help out with the raclette party I mentioned in my last post.

You would have thought I'd have become more proficient over the years, having thrown a fair number of parties (brunches, teas, dinners). I thought so too myself! But alas, from the raclette party, it seems I have not.

The plan was to have the party at my friend's new home in the east. However, her home was so new it did not have a refrigerator. Some of the preparation therefore had to be done in the day at my place. My friend, G, came over in the morning and we settled on the Linzer sandwich cookie and pecan pie recipes we wanted to use before doing some grocery shopping.

Somehow, the massivity of the project did not occur to me (even as I was trying to cream 1.36kg of butter in my kitchenaid) until I had to sieve and mix 12 cups of flour with all the other dry ingredients. Yes, you read right. 12 full cups of flour. G and I had multiplied the recipe, thinking we could bake a couple more for our colleagues, and had to whip out our muscles and mix the ingredients together in the biggest pot I had. By 3pm, we had only managed to roll them into balls of dough to rest in the refrigerator.

At that point, we had to make a call. We had to do another round of grocery shopping for the actual raclette party and quickly chop and saute the accompaniments. And we were far away from where we had planned to be at 3pm. We decided to split up - I'd stay to finish up the cookies, he'd leave for the party venue and start the preparations on that end.

To cut the long story short, I only finished baking at 630pm; the dough was given too little time to firm up and became tricky to handle. I rushed to Holland Village to pick up the cheese and raclette grill before heading to the east for the party. Somehow, thankfully, we made it and the party was a success. I'm glad to report, so were the cookies.

Even though we had to substitute the hazelnuts with almonds, they turned out very well. Incredibly crumbly and just the right amount of sweetness, they were well received. I had half the dough i.e. 6 round discs of dough left and decided to bake a few more for my mum's guests this afternoon. Here's the recipe for those who might be planning belated Christmas parties and are thinking of edible gifts for guests to doggie bag home.

Linzer Sandwiches

Adapted from Martha Stewart dot com

Makes 16

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Ingredients

1 cup (or 150g) roasted, unpeeled almonds, ground

2 sticks (or 226g) butter, at room temperature

1/2 cup caster sugar

1 large egg

1 tsp pure vanilla extract

2 cups plus 2 tbpsn flour

1 tsp baking powder

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1/4 tsp ground nutmeg

1/4 tsp table salt

icing sugar (optional)

raspberry/cherry jam

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Method

With an electric mixer with a paddle attachment, beat butter and sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy for about 2 minutes.

Add egg and beat until smooth for about 3 minutes, then beat in vanilla extract.

In a separate bowl, whisk together almonds, flour, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt.

Add to butter mixture, beat on low until just combined - takes about 2 minutes.

Separate dough into 3 portions, rolling each between 2 pieces of plastic (I usually slice open an ordinary sandwich bag for one reasonably big piece of plastic. This also helps with mess management later on since it negates the need for a floured surface.) until 0.5cm thick.

Freeze each disc for at least an hour, or overnight, ensuring they are kept flat in the freezer.

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Preheat oven to 180 degrees celcius.

Have 2 baking sheets lined with baking paper ready.

Using a 5cm round fluted cookie cutter, cut out cookies from one disc and transfer to baking sheets.

Using a 2 or 3cm round fluted cookie cutter, cut the centers out of half the cookies. Repeat for the other two discs.

Bake cookies for 10 minutes or until edges are golden, rotating halfway through if the heat distribution in the oven is not even. In the meantime, combine the scraps from the discs, reroll, freeze until reasonably hardened and cut for subsequent batches.

Remove from oven and place on wire racks until completely cool.

Lightly sift the icing sugar over the decorative tops (optional); set aside.

Spread a scant teaspoon of jam on the bottoms of each cookie and sandwich with their punched out tops.

Christmas dinner

From top left: Fresh oysters, baguette from Culina, brown button mushrooms with garlic and parsley, Habanero Tabasco sauce, pat of butter, lemon wedges, random spatula-wielding hand, and The Paella.

This year's Christmas has been... refreshing. It might be difficult to believe, but it is officially the 27th day of December and I have yet to lay my lips on any turkey since December started, unless you count the turkey ham I bought for a sandwich 3 weeks ago.

I organised a Christmas potluck for the office about a week ago, except it was a Teochew Porridge potluck party. It seemed to get my colleagues far more excited and I thought, what the heck, whatever rocks their boat. It made organising the party far easier than expected, although we did end up with a ton of canned and bottled food items like bottled olive vegetables and (my favourite) canned fried dace with black beans.

In the middle of last week, I helped a dear friend organise a raclette party. The cheese and grill were gotten from La Fromagerie, and my friend practically single-handedly prepared all the dishes to go with the cheese. The raclette was delish and thoroughly filling, and there wasn't a sliver of a turkey in sight.

When my mum suggested we have a small and simple family dinner at home, her suggestion didn't include any turkey either. Instead, she offered procuring live seafood from the nearby newly renovated Sheng Siong and preparing a seafood feast. Ed and my mum share a penchant for paella and I had always wanted to put my anodised Calphalon pan to the paella test, so we decided on an un-Christmas-like menu.

I must say I was pleasantly surprised by the selection of live seafood Sheng Siong stocked, which included lobsters and oysters. Their oysters, at SGD1.80, were not only reasonably priced, they were fresh (well, they were live you know)!

I'm happy to report the paella was a success. As usual, I cooked too much and had to spread out the paella to 2 more cast iron dishes. I'm just glad we managed to finish 2 out of the 3 pans I prepared, with the last simply waiting to be reheated and served to guests we're expecting tomorrow afternoon. With a platter of fresh oysters, some lightly sauteed mushrooms with garlic and parsley, and a couple of slices of baguette gotten from Culina, our family's Christmas dinner was complete.

So there, my Christmas experience this year, with no turkey. Nil, zilch, nada, squat. I'm somewhat happy there wasn't any of that dry, moisture-sapping meat to endure this time around. Yet, I do miss some of that amazing soup my mum makes with the leftover turkey bones. Anyhow, I hope you've all had relatively fulFILLING Christmas dinners!

Merry Christmas!

Ho ho ho!

Paella

Adapted from The Cook's Book

Serves 4-5

Ingredients

1.4 litres fish stock

2 good pinches of saffron

3 garlic gloves, crushed

90ml olive oil

50g chorizo sausage, thinly sliced

2 small bay leaves

1 white onion, finely chopped

2 red peppers, halved, seeded, and cut into 2cm squares

250g squid, cleaned and cut into pieces, including tentacles

1.5 cans skinned and chopped tomatoes, drained

1 tsp paprika

450g Valencian paella rice or risotto rice

300g fresh clams, scrubbed (ensure all clams are tightly shut or discard them)

500g large fresh prawns, shells removed (except the tail) and deveined

400g fresh mussels, scrubbed and beard removed

50g cooked French beans, cut into 2.5cm lengths

50g cooked peas (optional)

lemon wedges and tabasco sauce to serve

Method

Boil fish stock with saffron and 1 crushed garlic clove in a pot. Simmer for 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat half the oil in a paella pan (I used the Calphalon Everyday Pan).

Add chorizo, remaining garlic and bay leaves and cook over gentle heat for 1 minute.

Add onion and peppers, and cook for 5 minutes.

Increase the heat, add the squid and fry for 2-3 minutes.

Stir in tomatoes, paprika, and remaining oil. Fry for 4-5 minutes. (This tomato mixture is known as sofrito.)

Scatter in the rice, distributing it evenly over the ingredients in the pan. Pour over the hot stock, reduce the heat and cook gently for 10-15 minutes. Shake the pan occasionally but do not stir.

Add in prawns, clams and mussels, cover and continue cooking for another 5 minutes or until the rice is tender but slightly firm (it may be necessary to add a little more stock or water), and all mussels and clams have opened (those that never open may have turned bad).

Side note: The original recipe calls for the prawns, clams and mussels to be added with the stock, but I find this overcooks the seafood.

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The rice will form a golden crust on the bottom (called a soccarat).

When all the liquid has been absorbed, add the beans and peas.

Serve with lemon wedges and tabasco sauce.

Woori Nara

Some of you have probably been there already, heck, there's even a Youtube video taken of in it. But I'm guessing most of you have never even heard of Lorong Kilat. I wouldn't have myself, if not for a dear friend and colleague who, like me, enjoys sharing her love for food with others and pointed me in that direction for some kickass deep fried chicken.

Who would have known that the Koreans would be the creators of such incredibly light, crunchy and delicious pieces of deep fried chicken? On our very first visit to Woori Nara, Ed and I ordered half a 'Volcano Yum Yum' chicken (ok, so their strength isn't in naming their dishes) and half a Soy Garlic chicken. We liked those very much, although we thought they might have overdid the sauce a little. Out of greed, we also ordered another serving of the 'Crispy and Mild' chicken and were henceforth sucked into the mystical world of Korean deep-fried chicken.

We have never looked back. Sure, we have tried other items on their menu which were generally decent, but getting our hands on some of their chicken is a must for every visit. It is also the place we think of whenever we have a deep fried chicken craving. I recommend wash it down with some refreshing rice drink (similar to our barley drink, except with rice - top picture) to complete your meal.

Woori-Nara Korean Restaurant
19 Lorong Kilat 01-02
Tel: 6464-9282.

Tea Bone Zen Mind Cafe

This place isn't one of my favourite places on earth to while away weekends. There isn't a small collection of books, especially not books with those cool, embossed covers. The grilled cuttlefish they serve is also rather tiring on the jaw.

It doesn't have incredible 'tea eggs' with still-runny egg yolks and just-set egg whites.

It doesn't have a wide selection of premium teas. I never order their Iced Pear Tea everytime I go there because its poached pear isn't the most yummy poached fruit ever.

You shouldn't try this place, ever. Really, don't bother. It is already crowded enough as it is.

Chinese mitten crabs

When I was in Shanghai last year for a dreaded work-trip, the only silver lining of the trip was one of the meals we had there that featured Chinese mitten crabs, more commonly known as hairy crabs. It was my first time having it, and I was fortunate a Shanghainese fluent in English was seated next to me and gave me some tips on the most efficient way to extract its sweet flesh and enjoy the abundant, uber-rich roe.

I had fallen in love with the elusive crab ever since and was elated when Ed spotted an advertisement in the newspaper for a hairy crab menu at Ah Yat Abalone Restaurant (Allson Hotel) and suggested we try it. We had one relatively large hairy crab - 250g - each, with plenty of roe. Like in Shanghai, they were served whole at our table. However, unlike in Shanghai, a waitress snipped each hairy crab into neat sections for us. The main body was snipped into two, while the skinny legs were separated into neat segments for us to push the meat out with even skinner chopsticks.

The roe was, as expected, incredibly creamy and unctuous. We savoured every little bit of the roe, and spent near to an hour ensuring the shell was stripped clean of every ounce of its delicately sweet flesh. Given its size, persons who consider eating normal Sri Lankan crabs a chore would certainly find eating hairy crabs too fussy.

Two of the other items on the menu - sharksfin soup with hairy crab roe, and abalone - were superb as well. I was pleasantly surprised that their sharksfin soup surpassed any of the other sharksfin soups I had tried even at restaurants specialising in sharksfin. And the abalone, well it was about three quarter the size of my palm and unbelievable sweet to the last bite.

Knowing how much hairy crabs cost in Shanghai, the price of SGD$168++ per person for a full hairy crab menu was quite alarming, but it was truly a spectacular meal.

Eating like a man

While I grudgingly admit my appetite is usually no different from any other Singaporean female (I hear Taiwanese and Japanese ladies have incredibly tiny appetites), I relish in being able to 'eat like a man'. This involves consuming vast quantities of food, a significant portion of which is of meat.

Occasionally, I find myself with an insatiable appetite, needing to eat every 3 or 4 hours, and always craving for something savoury. This is a great departure from my past self where I would happily start at the dessert station of buffet spreads - now, I may even skip the dessert! Whenever I crave for a huge hunk of meat, the uber tender steak at Hooha Cafe immediately comes to mind. Perfect grill marks adorn every piece of 1.5 inch thick steak. Every tenderloin, the epitome of tenderness. Happily, not many people have heard of them, but more on Hooha another time.

When I visited Magma with a couple of friends for dinner, I was having one of those massive meat cravings. The delightful service staff recommended the steak tartare, declaring that many of their diners have said theirs is the best. I snapped up the offer and could not wait to tuck in. The waiter wheeled in the raw mince with all the condiments on the side in pretty sauce jugs then went through evidently well-practiced moves of mixing the condiments with the raw mince then making quenelles out of the final product. Each quenelle was scooped onto a small square toast then served.

It was a dish meant to be shared as a starter, but I had it all. By myself. It had a good balance of flavours and texture, and remains one of the top few carnivorous dishes I'd choose whenever I have a massive meat craving. If not for the fact it is not easy to find, I would be having it far more often.

When salad gets boring, and Thomas Keller

My favourite addition to salads has got to be fried haloumi cheese. You get a beautifully crispy crust and totally awesome salty molten cheese that makes any boring old salad alive again. Best results come with sufficient oil - something I learnt not to stinge on from Thomas Keller's latest cookbook "Ad Hoc".

I haven't tried any of his recipes but the book has been an exciting read so far. Yes, I'm one of those freaks who actually reads cookbooks from cover to cover within a day. Meanwhile, the copy of Milton Friedman's 'Capitalism and Freedom' has been sitting on my desk for the longest time and I'm barely past chapter 2. I barter traded reading a book for my boss to watch a video I thought would change her life. It was a 3 part 20 min Youtube video and I now realise I got the shorter end of the stick.

Anyway, back to the book. I love the conversational tone in the book and all the little tips Thomas Keller added. I was worried the recipes would still be somewhat fussy but was significantly relieved when I read the part about not being silly about having to cut carrots into perfect batons. I hope to try one of the recipes soon - CH already has and gave awesome reviews. I'm also still working towards visiting Per Se and The French Laundry someday, soon.