2 Good Food

Perfect - Roasted Savoy Cabbage

2011-12-06T22:51:00.011+08:00

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

2011-11-23T18:30:00.003+08:00

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

2011-10-31T16:07:00.005+08:00

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

2011-10-04T13:32:00.004+08:00

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

2011-10-02T03:28:00.006+08:00

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

2011-09-28T02:55:00.001+08:00

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

2011-09-27T09:16:00.004+08:00

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

2011-02-13T02:06:00.012+08:00

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.

2011-02-07T02:07:00.003+08:00

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!

2011-02-02T18:42:00.006+08:00

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)

2010-09-16T22:53:00.006+08:00

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

2010-08-02T22:38:00.001+08:00

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.

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.

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

2010-07-14T23:56:00.000+08:00

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

Curry in bed

2010-05-25T21:33:00.003+08:00

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

2010-03-16T00:04:00.011+08:00

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.

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.

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.

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'.

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.

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

2010-02-13T12:18:00.006+08:00

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

2009-12-27T15:10:00.006+08:00

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

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

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.

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

2009-12-27T04:21:00.006+08:00

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.

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

2009-12-26T03:25:00.004+08:00

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

2009-12-09T23:14:00.005+08:00

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

2009-11-29T16:51:00.011+08:00

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

2009-11-25T15:33:00.002+08:00

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

2009-11-23T01:50:00.001+08:00

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.

Happy Finds in Penang

2009-09-26T14:14:00.008+08:00

When colleagues found out Ed and I were planning to visit Penang for 5 whole days, they thought we had lost our minds. They were nonetheless very helpful in recommending places to eat at and surrendered lists of great hawkers in Penang for each of the famous dishes - Assam Laksa, Chendol, Char Kway Teow, Kway Teow Teng, Pork Intestine Porridge, Hokkien Mee, Duck Soup Mee Sua... and the list goes on.

While we did manage to visit some, eating at Penang is similar to eating in Japan. Like my close friend, V, once endearingly said, "Throw stone also got good food." Though grateful for the recommendations, we would probably have had just as great an experience without them.

On top of eating fabulous hawker food at Gurney Drive or at random coffeeshops next to our hotel (top picture), we visited a couple of eateries recommended by bloggers were living in Penang. Possibly one of our favourite meals was in Hot Wok.

Stoked by an immense hunger that stemmed from being lost for almost an hour, we went ballistic over the menu and ordered much more than we should have ate - and then finished it anyway. The Otak (steamed, curried fish paste) and Tau Eu Bak (pork stewed in dark soy sauce) were sublime. I practically drenched my plate of rice in the deliciously savoury sauce.

Determined to walk off our incredibly heavy lunch, we wandered into smaller roads where we spotted siTigun, a 'bicycle pitstop cafe'. Like the other shops around the area, a lazy vibe oozed from its doorstep onto the five foot way and we were inexplicably drawn to its seats.

The cafe was charming with the couple of bicycles parked inside, a small fountain going on in the back of the shop, and a handful of colourful lanterns reflecting the midday sunlight. They had decent coffees, a small selection of snacks (so much for our plan to walk off our heavy lunch) and very helpful service staff. Because it was such a breath of fresh air among the other run-of-the-mill shops in the area, I absolutely fell in love with the place.

One of our last meals in Penang was in Vintage Bulgaria Restaurant & Bar just further down from Gurney Drive (10 mins by taxi). Having little experience with Bulgarian food, we ordered simply what sounded good. The menu was pretty extensive and we were torn among a couple of dishes. We finally settled on cod, a platter of meat and sausages, and some cheese-stuffed bacon skewers to share.

The sausages were decent and the cod a little too rich for me, but the stuffed bacon skewers floored my partner and I. Slightly crisped bacon with soft molten cheese, it was difficult to resist. If our mains weren't so filling, we would probably have ordered one more dish of that artery clogging stuff. 5 days might have been an unusual amount of time to spend in Penang as a tourist, but there was truly so much good food Ed and I wouldn't have minded hanging around for a day or two more.

Vintage Bulgaria Restaurant & Bar
1-E, Jalan Sg Kelian
Tanjung Bungah
Penang, Malaysia
Tel: +604-8981890

Lemony goodness

2009-08-16T20:55:00.010+08:00

For my farewell present, my ex-colleagues found it within their hearts to dig deep and generously into their pockets and grant me many of my kitchen-wishes. Not only did I receive a beautiful Le Creuset cast iron oven dish (pictured above), along with it came a set of 4 Le Creuset cast iron ramekins. To top it all off, there was also a Kyocera ceramic mandolin that I had been humming and hawing over for many moons, wondering if the ceramic blade justified the steep price. I was truly, utterly spoilt. (Afternote: I'm still perfecting my Thomas Keller ratatouille dish, but my experience with it has been awesome so far.)

The itch to use the oven dish developed astoundingly quickly. One Saturday night, my mum came to me with a chicken and a question, "What shall we cook for dinner?" Coincidentally, the winter edition of Donna Hay featured cast iron pots as le pot du jour for typical winter dishes such as slow braises and roasts.

Flipping through for some inspiration, I found a delicious sounding recipe for Lemon Thyme Spatchcocks with Lemon Gratin that I promptly adapted to roast the chicken we had. Coincidentally, we had almost everything we needed for the dish. While not as pretty as the photo in the magazine (especially since the chicken was mid-massacre) this dish was awesome down to the last sliver of potato. The slices of lemon wedged between thin rounds of potato perked up the flavours in the gratin, turning the usually cloying creamy gratin into a platter of refreshing yet comforting goodness.

Cast iron is known to last for generations and was a popular cookware in older generations. Chicken roasted in a cast iron oven dish must be an old-fashioned way somewhere out there, just not in Singapore. Cast iron has since become less popular out there possibly because of its weight, despite its easier-to-clean enameled cousins. Still, I feel cast iron has gained greater recognition over the years in Singapore. If serious foodies like CH and Ivan believe in them, you should too.

I personally swear by all the small collection of cast iron pots and dishes I have accumulated over the years and love that they go from stove to oven to table with unrivaled ease. My girlfriends might pass down jewellery to their children and grandchildren in the future but I will just have a ton of cookware.

Roasted Chicken with Lemon Gratin
Adapted from Donna Hay (Issue 45)
Serves 4
Ingredients
1kg starchy potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced
1 lemon, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
sea salt and cracked black papper
375ml (1.5 cups) single cream
1 big whole chicken, cut into half
olive oil, for drizzling
Method
Preheat oven to 200 degrees celsius.
Layer potato, lemon and garlic in a lightly greased 1.25litre capacity baking dish.
Sprinkle with salt and pepper and pour over the cream.
Bake for 15 mins or until just tender when tested with a skewer.
Place chicken halves on top of the potato, skin side up.
Brush with oil and sprinkle with salt.
Roast for 30 mins or until chicken is golden and cooked through (meat thermometer should register about 80 degrees celsius).
Serve!

The View of Mount Fuji From Hakone

2009-07-24T03:13:00.009+08:00

I mentioned in the previous post that we went to Hakone as well. Frankly, we would probably never have chosen to go to Hakone if not for the fact that it was recommended by various guidebooks if one wants to see Mount Fuji without having to actually go to the mountain itself.

We started out rather ambitious, thinking that if we had time to visit Mount Fuji, we would. Even more ambitious, we thought we could have a go at climbing the colossal creature for 'just' an hour upwards before turning back. Of course, the plan started crumbling the moment we reached Tokyo and ventured around the Ikebukuro region and spotted numerous eateries we wanted to try - we ended up attempting to 'restaurant-hop', eating only one or two dishes from each restaurant. There was simply insufficient time to explore the entire city, especially since we ventured out into Kyoto for a couple of days.

And so we decided to just go to Hakone, sneak a peek at Mount Fuji, then go back. But what was meant to be simply an afternoon at a park eating our Onigiri-s while gazing lovingly at Mount Fuji, turned into a full-day affair. Hakone had an inexplicable charm about it that made my companion and I a little reluctant to leave.

Walking out of the Hakone-Yumoto station, we simply ventured straight down the path, thinking that Mount Fuji would be so huge that it would be impossible to miss and visible from many points in Hakone. Of course, that was not true. Walking past a long row of shophouses, we thought this must be the way to wherever it was that one could see Mount Fuji since shops usually line strategic pathways.

I was most excited when we spotted a shop selling handmade rice crackers (aka Wang Wang biscuits) and couldn't resist a taste. Using our handy 'Yubisashi (pointing) sheet of expressions', we pointed to the Japanese translation of 'Is there a recommended dish?' and was immediately directed (more pointing) towards two types of rice crackers in the shop. We chose one of each, which were put into a brown paper bag, and went on our way.

Munching our deliciously savoury, crunchy biscuits, we soon found ourselves following 3 old ladies walking purposefully on a narrow strip of grass by the side of the road. Thinking they must have know a secret route none of the people in the crowd at the train station knew, we carried on along the path with them. That is, until we spotted signs of hot springs. And the old ladies disappeared.

Worn out and disappointed, we turned back and walked up the path leading to the row of shophouses again. Feeling like we needed a break from our tiring walk (yes, I can't believe we wanted to climb Mount Fuji), we went to the 2nd floor cafe of the first shop from the train station.

It was elegantly serene and all we needed to distract us from our disappointing trip so far. It also doubled up as a boutique for beautiful home accessories and clothes. Our iced tea and adorable red bean pancake (see inset) was yummy and comforting, and inspired me to want to set up a similar cafe of my own that would make people feel the way I felt at that time - at peace. After a good rest, we set off again with renewed resolve to look for Mount Fuji.

Consulting the tourist information centre, which we really should have done at the beginning, we were advised to take a Hakone Tokzan bus to Lake Hashi where they said was a viewing point for Mount Fuji and where there were sights to see. It cost us almost SGD$30 each for a return ticket on the bus, and considering we were running out of cash and no atm nor money changer in view, it was expensive.

But it was well worth it. Even the long winding journey was worth it.

Even if only for this.

The lake was beautiful, and... peaceful. But most importantly, at least to us, was the small Coffee and Sausage Restaurant we chanced upon that was run by two endearing old men in aprons. It was the sign that first caught our eye and curiosity. The cafe was quaint with some good smelling sausages and coffee. Having eaten a pancake a mere hour ago, we thought it would be best to share a hotdog.

It was one truly delicious hotdog. Everything was perfect - the slightly toasted soft buns, the juicy flavourful spicy sausage, wholegrain mustard and tomato ketchup. We couldn't have asked for more. It was truly fate that we alighted from the bus just steps away from this Coffee and Sausage Restaurant. If we were not already so stuffed, we would have eaten in and ordered more.

So our trip to Hakone was eventful, from taking the wrong path to finding awesome food. But what happened to trying to see Mount Fuji? Sadly, it was a cloudy day and Mount Fuji was out of sight from Hakone, no matter where we stood. With the hotdog and each other, standing at the edge of Lake Hashi however, I don't think we would be any more happy even with a view of Mount Fuji.

Kyoto Kaiseiki.. Not.

2009-06-27T22:00:00.005+08:00

With the 7-day Japan Rail Pass, the world would truly be your oyster in Japan. At the drop of a hat, you could go to Kyoto, Kobe, Osaka, Hakone... the possibilities are endless. Wanting to try an authentic Kaiseiki meal, and having set aside a small fortune before even having left Singapore, my companion and I took the JR train to Kyoto before the dust had even settled on our luggage in Tokyo.

Walking down the main shopping street in Kyoto, we were like kids in a candy store when we chanced upon a not-so-Japanese shop called Angers (we later found other outlets in Tokyo). Grabbed a whole bag of gifts for friends, family and self and was surprised by the paper-bag-within-plastic-bag-thing they had going. Slight drizzle apparently triggers this reaction from sales persons throughout Kyoto (and possibly Japan).

Admittedly, we didn't set aside enough time for Kyoto than she deserved. But it did not matter as long as we got to try a proper kaiseiki meal. We figured the main shopping street would have its fair share of restaurants serving kaiseiki meals and that we'd be able to kill 2 birds with a stone.

Alas, after much miscommunication (as should be expected since we didn't know their native language) we ended up waiting for an hour in a restaurant only to find out that their kaiseiki set meal in their menu wasn't available that day. I was utterly disappointed and on the verge of walking out.

Thankfully, my very patient companion made the best of the situation and ordered a slew of dishes from the standard menu instead, because every bite redeemed our experience. With every new dish, my spirits calmed down and tastebuds tingled with joy. Sashimi was great, so great we ordered another round of it. It was also the first encounter with uni for both of us and while I quite enjoyed it, my companion could do without it. One small happy find was the side of fresh shreds of ginger flower served with sashimi (which we encountered in one or two other places in Japan), in addition to the usual shredded daikon.

One of the most pleasant dishes in our meal was the beancurd dish. Famous for their soy products, the trio of beancurd was divine. Each was smooth and very... clean. For lack of a better word. Served in a small bamboo cup was a concoction of soft delicate sheets in pure soy milk. Other dishes we tried, all of which we enjoyed thoroughly, include grilled beef and ochazuke/bubuzuke (rice with green tea and fish broth).

The dessert looked perhaps, the least impressive of all the dishes. Green tea ice cream with Tanda black beans. However, it inspired me the most. I wanted to teleport home and replicate the green tea ice cream's flawless and milky texture, served with the sweet plump black beans. I was so infatuated, I bought 1 kg worth of Tanda black beans from The Bean Guy at Tsukiji Market.

Despite the mix-up at the beginning of our meal, we left very pleased with the outcome of the meal even though it meant I never got to try a kaiseiki meal. The manager was evidently apologetic for the miscommunication and overcompensated when tallying our bill. I would certainly be glad to revisit the restaurant, whose name I can only guess is Saryo Mina from the weblink on the name card, again.

Awesome Tokyo

2009-06-14T16:49:00.016+08:00

On the flight back from Tokyo to Singapore, my travel companion and I marvelled at the amount we accomplished during our short 7 day break in Japan. The sheer amount we ate was enough to make us absolutely satisfied with the way the vacation went (and also fearful of the weighing machine of course), without even considering the sights along the way.

Very much has been written about Tokyo, and the places one just HAS to visit. In my preparation for this trip, I consulted Chubby Hubby's Tokyo Hot List, knowing that the places recommended would never disappoint. We would have tried all the recommendations if not for the limited time we had. Here's our little list of food/places we tried which includes those in CH's list:

One) Yakitori - Gingko Nut

I have always been rather averse to Gingko Nuts. If I do eat them, it could only be for one of two reasons - health purposes (I treat it like medication) or sheer accident. Oh wait, add to that the pure curiosity I had when my companion ordered it. Grilled over high heat and lightly salted, these gingko nuts were incredible. Not in the least bit bitter, it was even a little sweet!

Two) Park Hyatt Hotel - Sunday brunch at New York Grill
3-7-1-2 Nishi Shinjuku, Shinjuku-Ku
Tel: +81 3 5322 1234

Located in the heart of Tokyo, the restaurant perched on the top of the hotel at the 52nd floor is encased in floor-to-ceiling glass windows allowing a fantastic view of the city below. The Sunday Brunch's appetisers and mains were decent, but do leave space for the dessert buffet or, like me, you'd be missing out on the best part of the meal. Reservations are highly encouraged - do request for window seats.

Three) Hida Beef
In my previous post, I mentioned briefly how I was unable to find Kobe beef in Tokyo (more specifically Ikebukuro) but was instead offered Hida beef. While it is not as rich or buttery as its counterpart in Kobe, Hida beef was also an excellent example of beef which I assume has similar breeding methods. The Hida beef sushi was sublime. It simply melted away and was well accentuated with a cube of tangy jelly among other things (we didn’t bother to ask what it was since the waitress, while helpful, was not in her element speaking English).

I can’t seem to find any information online on the breeding programme for cows from Hida. The search instead brought up a couple of other varieties of beef (some of which have apparently triumphed over the Kobe in some competitions) – Matsuzaka, Yonezawa, Lake Towada, Ishigaki, Yamagata.

Four) Cool Train Service
The novelty of beautifully packaged and very decent food on trains has not worn off despite having taken the Japan Rail train numerous times. The conscientious packaging, taking care of even your post-meal needs (wet towel and toothpick), made sure that neither function nor form was neglected. The styrofoam (my one gripe: not environmentally friendly) container that looked like wood was very hardy and very neatly separated the rice from the abundant side dishes. On a side note, it was rather amusing to see the service staff as well as train conductors bow before entering and after exiting every carriage.

Five) Sadaharu Aoki
A must-do we chose from Chubby Hubby’s Hot List, we fully agree with his judgement on the éclairs. The chocolate éclair we tried had a delectably smooth chocolate filling. We also had a bite-sized selection of cakes, our unanimous favourite being the-one-with-hazelnut (sorry, I was too engrossed to take down its name). Neatly wrapped cookies and financiers were also available and made great souvenirs for foodie-friends. We were not particularly pleased however with their compulsory drink order per person wishing to eat in, not especially since the drinks averaged an astounding SGD15.

Six) Hidemi Sugino
Kyobashi Daiei Building 3-6-17 Kyobashi, Chuo-ku
81-3-3538-6780
Thankfully, Hidemi Sugino’s cafe was more hospitable in that respect – no compulsory drink order. However, finding the shop was a challenge as it was in a small and non-descript alley. My companion and I had to resort to asking a passerby, who very patiently helped us by calling the shop and asking for directions. He seemed mighty amused that we were looking so desperately for a cake shop, and drew a very comprehensive map using a pink highlighter he took from his shirt pocket. When we arrived, I was slightly disappointed that they only had 4 varieties of cake left. We arrived only in the late morning, mind you. The cakes were supremely light, with a good balance of textures and flavours in each of them. All the walking (most of which was in the wrong direction) was well worth it.

Seven) La Bombance
Of the four gourmet experiences recommended by Chubby Hubby, we chose to try La Bombance because it sounded most exciting. Our dinner at La Bombance was fabulous. Though, it would have helped knowing exactly what we were eating. The menu was entirely in Japanese and the chef was only able to go so far as to say that what we were eating was a kind of vegetable or a kind of seafood. A friend later helped me decipher and menu and it seems that our first course was a soup with Tortoise(!!). Nonetheless, every item (except perhaps the curried aubergine mousse with tomato jelly which was a hit with my companion) was sublime. Service was pleasant, despite the language barrier, and presentation of food was elegantly simple. In fact, a pair of men sitting 2 seats away admired each course for a l.o.n.g t.i.m.e before tucking in. My companion and I, on the other hand, very unsophisticatedly lapped them and lapped up every morsel.

Eight) Tsukiji Market and Unforgettable Sashimi Place

We forced ourselves to wake up at the most unearthly hour in order to reach there at 445am, in time to fumble our way towards the big warehouse - where the action was at. The tuna auction was an absolute entertainment. Potential bidders were examining each tuna with a hooked prong, by thwacking the exposed end to extract some flesh. I saw some mashing of the flesh between fingertips. I saw close examinations of the flesh under a torchlight. Furious ringing of a bell indicated that an auction was about to commence. I was baffled, trying to figure out how the auctioneer determined the winner of each bid, but enjoyed the 'performance' nevertheless.

The rest of the market was full of yummy goodies that made us hungry even at 6am in the morning. It made me incredibly envious of the Japanese who have access to such fresh seafood. Some things made me cringe though - the battered and deep-fried crab that was still alive and frothing at the mouth (top left in photo above) - as well as the huge octopus eggs being hawked (bottom left).

The highlight of our visit to the Tsukiji Market was our wonderful find in a small back alley that led to a passway for huge containers of seafood. It was serendipity. After buying some Tanda black beans from The Bean Guy, we decided to turn around and ask him for a recommendation for a place to eat sashimi. He first went to the alley behind his shop then peeked his head out from around the corner, and waved his hand beckoning us to follow him. What we were led to was a small, 9 seater sashimi restaurant where we had sashimi that blew us away. I'll never look at Hotate (scallop) the same way again. Even the tamago sushi impressed us to no end.

We were understandably grateful to The Bean Guy for this superb recommendation and would strongly recommend anyone to visit this sashimi place if they're in the vicinity. Unfortunately, they do not have an English namecard, and all I could get is pictured in the top right hand corner of the photo above. I would suggest printing the picture out and asking for directions to the address at the market itself. What would also be useful is the Tsukiji Market calendar that indicates when the market closes.

Converted

2009-06-14T01:38:00.008+08:00

Yes, that's right. I'm a convert. While I've always been happy to eat Japanese cuisine, I now aim to eat Japanese at least once a week. Thankfully my new office (yes I've changed jobs) is right next to Central, where there is no lack of ramen, sashimi and even hambagaa.

In between jobs, my companion and I grabbed the unbelieveably cheap flights (SGD500, all inclusive!) to Japan and bounced around for 7 days. 7 fulfilling and incredible days were spread out among Tokyo, Kyoto, Kobe, Hakone and Yokohama, though they were mostly short pitstops for a look-see. And of course some food.

One such pitstop was in Kobe - a last minute decision to go to the source of Kobe beef, made possible with the 7-day Japan Rail Pass that allowed unlimited access to any part of Japan. We probably wouldn't have chosen to do so if not for the fact that our virtually non-existent Japanese led us to a restaurant in Tokyo that specialised in what we thought was Kobe beef, that we eventually found was Hida beef. We were just unbelieveably unlucky in finding a restaurant that specialised in Kobe beef.

We travelled to the Shin-Kobe Station from Kyoto by a brief train ride and found ourselves in Kobe with no particular destination in mind. We headed to the tourist information centre and were fortunate to meet an English speaking staff who could understand our request for a recommendation for Kobe beef. Many tourists before us surely asked her too; her recommendation came quickly and for a cosy restaurant called Wakkoqu, in the Oriental hotel just across the road from the station!

We couldn't believe our luck and were able to leave our luggages with the concierge before heading to the third floor. The other restaurants on that floor would normally have distracted me, but I had my heart (and stomach) set for Kobe beef. I knew I wouldn't be able to leave Kobe without tasting it. It wasn't easy to find, but were brimming with excitement when we finally did.

We looked through the menu quickly and, with some help from the teppanyaki chef assigned to us, chose the standard lunch set (SGD75) and a CHAMPION COW lunch set (SGD200). I kid you not, it was a CHAMPION COW.

First on the menu was the Beef Tataki Salad that only served to make us hungry for more. My appetite for the beef grew, slowly tormented by the sight of the raw slab of beef awaiting the chef's deft teppanyaki skills. Only after the chef slowly fried thin slices of garlic, ensuring each one was evenly browned, the Kobe beef was sliced into bit sized chunks and fried, one portion at a time.

The Kobe beef was as good as any review out there in the blogosphere made it out to be. No, it was even better. Its rich, melt-in-your-mouth texture was overwhelming and met my every expectation. Buttery. Soft. Mmmmm. The difference between the CHAMPION Cow and the non-champion cow was evident, though the latter was already positively delicious.

The chef very thoughtfully portioned our beef, frying more only when the meat on our plate was running low. In the meantime, large slices of carrot, turnip, aubergine and cucumbers were fried. The finale involved pieces of fried fat and a large handful of skinny beansprouts, all of which were meant to be consumed. I usually shun from eating animal fat in such huge chunks but succumbed to curiosity, and then greed when I was into my fourth piece.

In all, the experience at Wakkoqu was all we could ask for, and I would not hesitate to return if I do visit Japan again.

Wakkoqu
3rd Floor, Oriental Hotel
Opposite Shin-Kobe Station
Opening hours: 11.45 - 22.00
Reservations recommended: Call 078 262 2838
Website: http://www.wakkoqu.com/english/index.html

Ah Meng's Relatives

2009-04-17T19:44:00.004+08:00

One of the most well-known national icon (at least to people from my generation and older) is unmistakeably a furry friend who was adopted by the Singapore Zoo at the age of 11 after being kept as a domestic pet. She slowly developed into Singapore's tourism icon, being featured in countless films and media articles. Her domestication in her early years honed her to become more approachable, and this led to the popular Breakfast with Ah Meng.

While she passed on early last year, her legacy lives on through the eateries named after her (Ah Meng Restaurant/Ah Meng Kopi), in the durian tree plated at her grave, through the bronze statue erected in her memory, and most certainly in her trainer's thoughts. Her trainer, who had looked after Ah Meng for the past 36 years before her death, was even given compassionate leave after her death.

Now that Ah Meng has passed on, the interactive breakfast programme lives on but has taken on a new (and more generic) name of 'Jungle Breakfast with Wildlife'. I'm sad to say that I did not even have a chance to meet Ah Meng, much less have breakfast with her. So when my partner suggested having breakfast with a bunch of Ah Meng's relatives, I immediately snapped up the offer.

For SGD$25++, a simple buffet spread of a mix of local and western food was available. Those who favour fried bee hoon and chwee kueh would enjoy the breakfast as much as those who prefer the omelette and hash combination. While the coffee and tea ladies walked around to make sure our cups were always full, we had to trawl through a couple of drawers at the counters ourselves to find for ketchup - the one thing from my childhood I still cannot let go - giving you an idea of how casual breakfast is.

Of course, the stars of the breakfast were the Orang Utans, who eagerly climbed down the vines and sat obediently on the wooden platform. Trainers were by their sides to constantly feed them a variety of fruits to keep them occupied or they'd start becoming restless. I cannot remember how many kilograms of fruit we were told they would go through a day, but looking at the speed with which they popped whole plums into their mouths and spat out the seeds, I'm guessing it would be alot.

Visitors were invited to take photos with the Orang Utans. A professional photographer was at hand to snap pretty and sharp photographs, but we could pass to other staff there our own camera to snap pictures as well.

After breakfast, we went on to explore the rest of the zoo, and I must say that since I last visited in primary school, alot had changed. I enjoyed myself thoroughly and have to admit that the Singapore Zoo is unmistakeably one of the must-visit places in Singapore.

The Jungle Breakfast with Wildlife starts at 9am and is on a first-come-first-served basis. Reservations are encouraged (6360 8560), otherwise, it is best to go earlier to get a good seat with a good view of the Orang Utans.

The Land of 'Small Eats'

2009-03-28T00:45:00.012+08:00

I recently visited Taipei with a couple of friends for a short break. Although it was something we had started talking about since the tail-end of last year, bookings for flights and accomodation really only started coming together 2 weeks before we had planned to depart for Taiwan. During the flight, almost out of sheer boredom since there was no on-flight entertainment, we started flipping through Lonely Planet Taiwan for places we could visit - of course I was more preoccupied with eating places.

What I found, and what has possibly been written most about visiting Taipei, were the night markets. We visited both the King and Queen of night markets in Taipei - and I quote from Lonely Planet - "If Shilin is the King, then Shida is the Queen." All the night markets we visited bustled with so much activity that it made me wonder if the entire population of Taiwanese descends upon the night markets nightly.

Anyway, since much has been said of night markets, I thought I'd bring this blog's attention to lesser known eateries we ate at, but which were awesome. On our very first morning, we hunted down what we believe to be the original Yong He outlet for both sweet and savoury beancurd and other random breakfast snacks. It was a hole-in-the-wall that didn't look like it had changed since it started in the dinosaur ages.

Of course, our source of recommendation was THE LONELY PLANET guidebook. All hail the Lonely Planet. Despite Lonely Planet calling it the 'Yong He Congee King', they didn't actually serve any congee. While our hopes for warm congee on the frosty morning were dashed, the savoury beancurd (see picture above) and peanut paste (background) were delicious and comforting, almost making up for the lack of congee. My 2 companions lunged at the beancurd, leaving me to finish the peanut paste, and were full of praises for the crunchy and silky textures in the beancurd dish.

What stole the show however, was a special 'sandwich' we ordered randomly which comprised of a fluffy and lightly fried pancake, thick omelette, and 2 fresh and crisp you tiao. It certainly tasted like a more unhealthy, and hence better, version of a Roti John.

I was and still am impressed by the variety of Taiwanese eateries and food, which punctuated almost every stop we made within Taipei. I remember an alley lined with many types of cafes - book cafes, cafes attracting students with their free wifi and affordable menus, cafes with flaccid sofas that almost swallow you, and the list goes on. Wherever I turned, there'd be someone cupping a bowl and eating out of it with a pair of chopsticks, or someone else poking with a wooden skewer some dubious but edible brown stuff in a plastic bag they were cradling.

Speaking of dubious brown stuff, of which I have taken many unflattering and uninspiring photos, the most infamous has to be their pig's blood. Unlike our now-banned versions of pig's blood which resemble tofu but is nowhere near anything edible in texture, the Taiwanese version of pig's blood came in the form of slices of glutinous rice cooked in pig's blood and some seasoning. They were usually sold with some garnishes, but the version in the photo below came with sweet-savoury gravy in a dish called 'Tian Bu La' (literally translated into Sweet Not Spicy).

Even though I was a huge fan of pig's blood when I was younger (Admittedly, I had no idea I was eating pig's blood. I just loved the texture and its barely-there taste.), it didn't sound appetising to me. I had been abstaining from meat for personal reasons before the trip even began, and for once, I was glad for an excuse not to eat.

If there were only one thing I could introduce to Singapore from Taiwan, my choice would most certainly not be the pig's blood, but tender, chewy and incredibly tasty grilled octopi. Absolutely my favourite snack, it is generously bathed in a smokey sweet sauce with every flip on the grill, then thoughtfully snipped into bite-sized pieces and packed into a paper bag with a few wooden skewers. It was rather agonising watching the vendor slowly grill the octopi with her tongs as pools of saliva formed in my mouth. Get ready for a worthwhile jaw workout.

Perhaps coming a close second would be the spring onion pancakes (of course, I am merely evaluating among the vegetarian options - I personally love the crispy chicken cutlets that are available even in Singapore). These spring onion pancakes remind me very much of roti prata, except we could choose to add garlic sauce, chilli sauce, bbq sauce, teriyaki sauce etc... mid-cooking, before it gets more time on the hot and evenly oiled pan, then a good whacking with two metal ladles supposedly to soften it up. It reminded me of someone fluffing a pillow with a few violent thwacks on both sides of the pillow.

The version we learnt to make, in a cooking class we enrolled in while we were there, had none of the saucing nor whacking. It was simple enough and involved (1) extracting the moisture from the chopped spring onions, (2) rolling and making a ball (3) out of spring onions and some well-rested dough, and then finally (4) frying the rolled out spring onion pancake until golden brown. It was simple yet delicious, very much like the other dishes we learnt to make (see her website for details).

After so much ado, I haven't even covered the more well-known xiao chi (snacks, or literally 'small eats') from Taiwan such as Oyster Mee Sua, Chou Dou Fu (smelly beancurd), and bubble tea. Taipei is undeniably a bountiful land of 'small eats'.

Soy Beancurd, Peanut Paste, and Awesome Sandwich

Yong He

132 Fuxing N Road, sec.2 , Da'an

This is quite a distance from the nearest train station, so be prepared to walk.

Pig's Blood

Shilin Night Market and Shida Night Market had plenty of vendors selling this.

Grilled Octopus

I ate this at Danshui Night Market, which is near the coast and hence is famous for its abundance of fresh seafood.

Spring Onion Pancakes

First tried this at Shilin Night Market, but learnt how to make this at:

Jodie's Kitchen (cooking classes conducted in English/Mandarin)

2F, 29-1 Zi Yun Street

Tel. no 02 2720 0053

Email jodieskitchen@gmail.com

Cupcakes For Tea

2009-02-28T21:11:00.003+08:00

Trips to the bookstore rarely see me emerge empty handed, and I say this with a touch of bashfulness because I admit my lack of self-restraint when it comes to retail therapy and especially when there is food porn in question. A recent purchase that had been sitting around on the coffee table for quite a while is 'Indulgence Cupcakes - A fine selection of sweet treats'. Published by Murdoch books, it boasts an array of cupcakes you wish you could just pick out from the book to taste.

While it has some of the usual suspects such as 'Rich Dark Chocolate Cupcake' or 'Chocolate and Almond Cupcake', it also had more intriguing ones like 'Mandarin and Camomile Cupcake' and 'Jam Doughnut Cupcake'. Flipping through the book on a Saturday afternoon, I was undeniably drawn to the former and it helped that the more unusual ingredients the recipe called for - Mandarin oranges and semolina - were things I somehow (still) had around the house.

In 2 hours, I chopped, measured, peeled, zested, blended, gently mixed, piped, baked and washed. The result of all that activity was 18 Mandarin and Sweet Mallow (I replaced the camomile with mallow tea) Cupcakes complete with Mandarin orange glaze.

The cupcake was put to the test when my friend came over for tea that Saturday afternoon, and it passed with flying colours - my gentle mixing of the batter towards the end of the mixing process paid off in a tender and utterly moist-crumbed cupcake. The orange flavours did not leap out onto the palate, but seemed to slowly acquaint itself with the palate, like two toddlers introduced to each other for the first time. Perfect for a light afternoon tea - the cupcakes of course.

Mandarin and Sweet Mallow Cupcakes
Adapted from Mandarin and Chamomile Cupcakes in "'Indulgence Cupcakes - A fine selection of sweet treats'"
Makes 20 mini muffins
Ingredients
185ml milk
5g sweet mallow tea flowers
150g unsalted butter, chopped
230g (1 cup) caster sugar
3 eggs
2 tsps finely grated mandarin zest
300 g mandarin, peeled, seeds removed
60g fine semolina
155g self-raising flour

Glaze:
155g (1 1/4cups) icing sugar, sifted
1 tsp finely grated mandarin zest
2-3 tbspn strained, fresh mandarin juice

Method
Preheat oven to 180 degress celcius, line 20 mini muffin holes with paper cases. (I used medium sized self-supporting cupcake cases)
Place milk and tea flowers into saucepan, bring just to boil. Stand for 5 mins to infuse then strain.
Place butter, sugar, eggs, mandarin zest and mandarin in a food processor and process until almost smooth.
Add milk mixture, semolina and flour, then process until smooth (be careful not to over process).
Pour mixture evenly among cases.
Bake for 8-10mins or until skewer comes out clean when inserted into the centre of a cupcake.
Transfer onto a wire rack to cool.

For glaze:
Place icing sugar, zest and enough juice to make a paste in a heatproof bowl.
Sit the bowl over a saucepan of simmering water, making sure the base of the bowl doesn't touch the water, and stir until runny.
Remove from heat but keep the bowl over the water.
Spread the glaze over each cake (do this fast as it hardens up quickly).

Simply Bread

2009-02-09T10:03:00.006+08:00

What makes you want to return to a cafe or a restaurant?

Good food.
Excellent service.
Pleasing ambience.
Generosity?

I am generally put off when certain places are not generous with their servings, serviets and in some places - water. It is one thing to serve smaller portions of that pork belly per person because it is quite fatty and few people can eat more than that anyway, but a totally different matter when some places do not serve tap water and instead only serve bottled water at a cost.

It is great to know that in places such as Simply Bread, one never has to put up with that kind of arrogance. I remember the joy I felt when I found out that the bakery was about to join the neighbourhood. Alright, so 'neighbourhood' is a stretch but in the neighbourhood I stay the pickings are slim.

In Simply Bread, generosity is the order of the day.They are eager to help anyone who seems to have problems picking a loaf to buy. The Bruschetta we ordered for a snack was enough for 2 to share. Juicy chunks of tomatoes tossed through fragrant olive oil and dried rosemary were in abundance. I thoroughly enjoyed the refreshing tang of the tomatoes and even enjoyed them on their own when all the ciabatta had disappeared.

But what is most irresistable in Simply Bread has got to be the Sticky Bun. Truth be told, I haven't tried very much else. I always resolve to order something different before I enter the bakery, but my determination falters the moment the heavy cinnamon aroma hits my olfactory. The deep, dark caramelised cap belies its soft, almost cakey texture. Not overly sweet but marvellously intense in spices, this is the ultimate Sticky Bun that I've had over and over again everytime I visit.

Of course, serviets and water are free for all.

Simply Bread

1 Fifth Avenue

#01-03 Guthrie House

Tel 6466 7767

Simply Yummy

2009-02-02T10:43:00.009+08:00

Great things can happen when you least expect it. I was meeting a bunch of old friends for a farewell party for one of them who is being posted to Indonesia to work for the next 2 years or so. Someone somehow casually suggested a Peranakan food at Blue Ginger. Even though the image it brought to my head was a little odd, it was a pleasant name and I did not give it much thought.

From the moment I stepped through the doors, everything was pleasant. The service was pleasant. The décor was pleasant. The flight of stairs up to the second floor was pleasant. The air smelt pleasant. The menu was pleasant. The food presentation was pleasant.

Then I took a bite of the kueh pie tee, and was floored.

It was a simple dish, but virtually perfectly executed and I couldn’t have asked for more.

In fact, the other dishes were similarly simple but delicious. Especially the Beef Rendang, Ayam Panggang, Sambal Terong Goreng (pictured above), Otak Otak, and Chendol. While the prices are just a tad steeper than other Peranakan restaurants I've visited, this was well worth the money.

Blue Ginger
97 Tanjong Pagar Rd
Call - 6222 3928
Fax - 6222 3860

Operating Hours:
12pm - 230pm daily
630pm - 1030pm daily

Happy Chinese New Year!

2009-01-27T15:57:00.005+08:00

Chinese New Year gatherings are always more bearable with cousins, and especially with cousins willing to cooperate.

In line with the new year - new beginnings vibe, I changed the header and cleaned up all links! It is oddly incredible how good this feels.

Hope the Lunar New Year brings love, happiness and contentment for all!

Love,
Daffy

What is breakfast to you?

2009-01-23T11:14:00.008+08:00

What comes to mind at the sight of the word “BREAKFAST”? For some, this is a hot bowl of smooth rice congee, and a long fried you tiao (a long, savoury churro). For some, this might be kaya (coconut jam) toast and a cup of thick, strong coffee. In some other continent, this could be a simple freshly baked croissant with homemade pear jam.

I personally have images of fat fluffy pancakes almost drenched in maple syrup. A slice of bacon (pictured above) was a surprising bonus at Halia. While it worked, the combination never occured to me because they always belonged to separate breakfasts sets. Order "The Works" and you get bacon, beans, eggs, sausages and toast. Feeling like something sweet for breakfast instead? Get the pancake stack. There are few places that serve their pancakes as they should be - fat, fluffy and generous with the maple syrup. At Halia, they were all that with fruits and bacon: pure yum.

Side story- I was a little shocked when I was with a friend at a new cafe in town and the Banana Pancakes I ordered came as two 6-inch stacks of miniature pancakes the size of half my palm each. Even the bananas were tiny! Someone must have complained because the next time I went back, I saw waiters carrying plates of what looked like regular sized pancakes.

Back at Halia, while I had my mind set on the pancakes, my companion was drawn to a special breakfast combination right at the bottom of the menu - Truffle-scented Egg White Scramble with Sturgeon Caviar, Hokkaido Scallops and Foie Gras Torchon Pate on Brioche. It piqued my curiousity and after some deliberation, we took the plunge.

I was glad I was sharing it because every single component of the dish was rich. At first sight, the portion was not generous, but halfway through I was thankful for the foresight of the chef. It was decadently pleasant when shared though. Combined with light breeze, lush greenery all around (plenty of fresh oxygen), fat fluffy pancakes and a fun companion, that was possibly one of the most enjoyable breakfasts I'd ever had.

Frenched Out

2009-01-13T19:05:00.003+08:00

When I invite a group of friends over for a potluck dinner and most of the conversation at the table revolves around ‘How did you make this duck confit?’, ‘Are frozen prawns better than those you buy at the market?’ or ‘Guess the mystery ingredient in the sauce!’ I know I’ve hit the jackpot.

This is possibly one of the ‘foodiest’ group of friends I have and having potlucks with them is always pure bliss because I know they take their food seriously. Most of my other friends would chip in by bring something bought, but the potlucks I’ve had with this particular group were all legendary and nothing less than homemade.

With a simple French theme, the menu of the night spanned from one-of-the-most-expensive-bowls-of-tomato-soup-I’ve-ever-drunk, and amazing Moules Mouclad (mussels in cognac cream sauce), to a fantastic duck confit that unfortunately has no recipe because the cook never uses a proper recipe.

The most tedious dish would definitely be the tomato consommé that was also possibly the most expensive dish there. G bought incredibly pricy vine-riped tomatoes from Jasons Market Place and mistakenly added to his basket organic cherry tomatoes, bringing the cost of the ingredients to a whopping $70. He brought all the ingredients over to cook so I witnessed the entire cooking process from start to finish and I take my hat off to him for his resilience.

And even when the tomato consomme did not turn out as clear as we all envisioned it to be, we all still appreciated the cool crisp intense tomato soup. I eagerly went for seconds and thirds taking into account the laboriousness of it all and the cost that went into it. Sadly, I went to Meidi-Ya a couple of days after that and bought a tomato essence drink produced by Asahi at just $2 which tasted almost identical to that labour intensive soup.

Which dish was the highlight of the night? It is arguable. It is terribly difficult to choose among the tomato soup, the mussels and the duck confit (especially with some truffle salt). But since the mussels is possibly the dish that was prepared at the lowest cost among the three, though it might not have ordinarily been so, I decided to post the recipe for the mussels - especially useful in these economically tough times.

Click here for link to L's recipe for Mussels Mouclad.

The Sick Salmon

2009-01-05T17:52:00.007+08:00

New year, new resolutions! I haven't had my annual reflection/resolution-making session with Fel yet, but am hoping to get down to it soon. Sounds like my first resolution should be to stop procrastinating.

Random: I am simply in LOVE with this Little-Red-Riding-Hood-Stamp-Set I got as a gift. From my ultimate favourite stationery shop - Wood Would, I fell in love with it the moment I tore apart the gift-wrapper.

Since I was somewhat busy during the entire festive season, I decided not to overload myself by organising a dinner party among a group of close friends, although I must admit I was incredibly tempted to do so. I did however manage to make some adorable gift tags with the new stamp set for my colleagues - to go with some small gifts of course. AND of course, I managed to cure some salmon as well.

And as promised in my previous entry, here's a simple base recipe for curing salmon.

CURED SALMON

Recipe from CHOW

INGREDIENTS
3 cups kosher salt
3 cups granulated sugar
4 tablespoons lightly crushed white peppercorns
1 (1- to 2-pound) piece of salmon fillet, skin on (scales removed), pin bones removed
1 bunch dill (including stems), coarsely chopped
1 bunch Italian parsley (including stems), coarsely chopped
Zest of 1 medium lemon

METHOD
1. Place salt, sugar, and peppercorns in a medium bowl and mix until evenly combined. Rub about 1/4 cup of the mixture onto both sides of the salmon.
2. Mix together dill, parsley, and lemon zest in a separate bowl until evenly combined. Place half the herb mixture in the bottom of a 13-by-9-inch glass baking dish or other wide, shallow, nonreactive container, then spread 1/2 of the remaining sugar-salt mixture over the herbs. Place the salmon on this, and top with the remainder of the sugar-salt mixture and the herbs.
3. Weight the salmon by nesting another glass dish or heavy pan in the first baking dish or container. Place 3 to 4 pounds of weight on top of that (large cans work well) and put the dish in the refrigerator.
4. After 10 to 12 hours, remove the dish from the refrigerator and drain off any liquid. Scrape the layer of salt and herbs off the top of the salmon and flip the fish over. Repack the salt and herbs over the top, replace the weights, and store in the fridge for an additional 12 hours. (Mess alert!)

5. When the salmon is finished curing, remove it from the pan, rinse under cold water, and pat dry. Slice and serve!

Merry Christmas! Has it really been so long?

2008-12-26T15:27:00.004+08:00

I've been so busy with Operation Secret Santa that I haven't even had time to blog about this amazing and incredibly fun French-themed dinner party I had in November! Anyway, besides the mad singing at the SuperVIP room at Party World, Christmas was a rather slow and calm affair with family. The night of Christmas eve was spent pigging out on the usual suspects.

Turkey was bought from Meat the Butcher - super friendly new butchery that opened recently along Bukit Timah Road, next to Coronation Plaza. Check out their adorable logo! And since I was there, I thought I'd also grab a hunk of beef to roast. The staff was very helpful in recommending cheaper cuts suitable for roasting.

From Greengrocer, I couldn't resist ordering oysters as I thought it'd be fun having a oyster shucking session for all the big-bulky-biceped-cousins to get a workout.

A couple of days before Christmas, I also purchased a fat slab of salmon to cure for the first time! It was rather nerve wrecking since I had not done it before, ever. But I'm proud to announce that it was really simple. The recipe was simple, I even added my own twists of cinnamon and mustard undertones. I must warn clean-freaks though, that it was rather messy, but more about it in another post.

The night after the crazy dinner of turkey, beef, salmon and oysters, we had the leftovers sliced and shredded together with some foccacia and wheat bread. And can you believe it, we still have more oysters! I hope they don't die in our chiller before I dig them out again to deep fry in beer batter.

I received a couple of gifts for Christmas too - the number of gifts have sadly dwindled significantly over the years, must be the you're-too-old-for-gifts-mentality. One is NEVER too old for gifts! One of the sweetest gifts I've received was from my brother. Though corny -the book is about a brother-sister relationship- the choice of the book was excellent. The illustrations are beautiful.

Hope you had a meaningful and wonderful Christmas!

Quesadillas

2008-11-18T18:48:00.009+08:00

To celebrate a couple of birthdays, my friends and I decided to have some sort of a cookout last Saturday. I say 'some sort' because there actually wasn't very much cooking involved. One of my friends, having studied in US for 4 years, suggested Mexican or at least the American idea of Mexican food - Tex Mex.

We ended up with a rather simple menu of 2 types of Quesadillas, Guacamole and Salsa served with tortilla chips.

All recipes were forwarded to me by a friend who enjoys cooking as much as (if not more than) I do. They were all taken off the Cook’s Illustrated website which, after this experience, I will definitely be visiting more often. We had a simple Ham and (Gruyere + Mozzarella) Cheese Quesadilla/Cubano Quesadilla where everyone had fun, or at least I choose to think so, toasting their own Quesadillas in a hot non-stick pan. Once we all had a go at making our own, we moved to the dining table.

There was an array of chopped pickles, small purple onions, green peppers, sliced lettuce, plenty of plain tortilla wraps and – the star of the show – Mexican Pulled Pork / Carnitas. A whole kilogram of pork was braised in a concoction of orange juice, cinnamon, onion, bay leaves, and cumin for 2 hours in a heavy Dutch oven pot, then pulled apart and grilled till slightly brown and crisp at the edges.

Everyone could then add any combination of ingredients – ALL pork for the ridiculous carnivores, or a little of each for a more balanced diet – to the tortilla wrap before devouring it as daintily and neatly as possible. Of course, that was almost impossible what with guacamole and bits of chopped onion spilling out over the sides.

But it was such a delicious meal. We all ‘cooked’ together to Mexican music and made our Mexican popiahs together.

MEXICAN PULLED PORK, or, CARNITAS

(From The Cook's Illustrated)

In addition to the traditional garnishes listed below, you can serve the pork with fresh guacamole and salsa.

Ingredients

Pork 1 (3 1/2-to 4-pound) boneless pork butt , fat cap trimmed to 1/8 inch thick, cut into 2-inch chunks
Table salt and ground black pepper
1teaspoon ground cumin
1small onion , peeled and halved
2bay leaves
1teaspoon dried oregano
2tablespoons juice from 1 lime
2cups water
1medium orange , halved

Tortillas and Garnishes
18(6-inch) corn tortillas , warmed
Lime wedges
Minced white or red onion
Fresh cilantro leaves
Thinly sliced radishes
Sour cream

Method

Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position and heat oven to 300 degrees. Combine pork, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper, cumin, onion, bay leaves, oregano, lime juice, and water in large Dutch oven (liquid should just barely cover meat). Juice orange into medium bowl and remove any seeds (you should have about 1/3 cup juice). Add juice and spent orange halves to pot.

Bring mixture to simmer over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally. Cover pot and transfer to oven; cook until meat is soft and falls apart when prodded with fork, about 2 hours, flipping pieces of meat once during cooking.

Remove pot from oven and turn oven to broil. Using slotted spoon, transfer pork to bowl; remove orange halves, onion, and bay leaves from cooking liquid and discard (do not skim fat from liquid).

Place pot over high heat (use caution, as handles will be very hot) and simmer liquid, stirring frequently, until thick and syrupy (heatsafe spatula should leave wide trail when dragged through glaze), 8 to 12 minutes. You should have about 1 cup reduced liquid.

Using 2 forks, pull each piece of pork in half. Fold in reduced liquid; season with salt and pepper to taste. Spread pork in even layer on wire rack set inside rimmed baking sheet or on broiler pan (meat should cover almost entire surface of rack or broiler pan). Place baking sheet on lower-middle rack and broil until top of meat is well browned (but not charred) and edges are slightly crisp, 5 to 8 minutes.

Using wide metal spatula, flip pieces of meat and continue to broil until top is well browned and edges are slightly crisp, 5 to 8 minutes longer. Serve immediately with warm tortillas and garnishes.

The Ultimate Bean

2008-11-17T01:00:00.002+08:00

Wao, has it seriously been 2 months? I cannot believe how fast time has passed. And for all that time gone, I have little to show for it. Except a rather horrid trip to China where I unknowingly drank Starfish and Seahorse Soup, and saw the grey foggy skies of Guangzhou (Beijing was still benefitting from the major clean up pre-Olympics) among other things which are better left unsaid.

In the meantime, I haven't been able to spend as much time as I would like in the kitchen (how many times have you heard that from me already?). The parties and gatherings I used to organise, it seems, have become a thing of the past. Though of course this depends on the definition one chooses to subscribe to for 'past'.

Anyway, I managed to dig up photos I had stowed away for dryer months such as this, and found these two photos that immediately triggered beautiful memories of never-ending beaches and mountain ranges in Mauritius.

I almost never fail to visit the market, whichever city I visit - La Boquiera market in Barcelona; Borough market: London; and Central market: Port Louis (Mauritius). It was at the Central Market that I picked up a couple of packets of super plump vanilla beans (bottom left). Far from the dried, shrivelled up vanilla beans (bottom right) that I bought from the local baking supplies store, these plump beauties yielded eagerly under the knife tip to reveal an abundant supply of thick, syrupy seeds.

I enthusiastically used them in some ice cream, cake, and my latest and probably longest project ever - vanilla extract. So many recipes are available on the internet, but they all point to the same combination of ingredients: a bottle of alcohol (vodka, brandy or rum) and some vanilla beans for about 3 months and more.

I've put all my spent vanilla pods (i.e. shell without the seeds which would have gone into the ice cream/cake) into a bottle of dark rum and left it in a dark cupboard. It has been there since late August and I can't wait to use some of this homemade vanilla extract perhaps in some wicked ice cream - uber rich Rum and Raisin Ice Cream. Till next time!

Homemade

2008-09-18T15:07:00.013+08:00

I fervently believe that the best things are homemade. Small diced pumpkin cubes, celery and carrots with brown rice and a sprinkling of sesame seeds. Now that my mum has time on her hands to pamper herself, spend time with our not-so-little bunny Moka and spend more time in the kitchen which used to be almost solely my domain, she has been preparing soups with plenty of healthful properties and cooking dinners for the whole family.

One delightful morning, I woke up groggy-eyed and was typically slow to start on my morning routine. I opened my room door only to find my mother, ladle in hand. She asked if I would like to pack some fried rice for lunch, and I flippantly responded to the affirmative. Just before I left home, I noticed a carefully wrapped green Tupperware container snuck into my oversized carry-all bag, together with a sturdy little bowl (for reheating the food in the microwave oven, she says) but did not give much thought to it.

When lunchtime came, I bashfully unveiled the delicious jeweled grains much to the envy of my colleagues. I felt transported back to my secondary school days when my mum packed lunch and snacks for me. When carrots were particularly cheap, I was given a stick of carrot almost everyday as a snack for the 10 minute breaktime at 950am on schooldays. Until I turned slightly orange and stopped. My night vision at that time was however, par excellence.

But I digress.

As I savoured every spoonful of fried rice, grains of brown rice milled about on my tongue dancing around with its herbivorous friends. It was tasty alright. My mum had outdone herself again. More significantly, I could taste the effort my mum put into ensuring the pumpkin and celery were diced into tiny cubes, scrambling the beaten eggs briefly before tossing the cooked brown rice through the half-cooked eggs, and adding her signature finishing touch of sesame seeds (she adds it to almost anything, you name it, she's done it) before packing the container into my bag.

That has got to be one of the best meals I'd ever eaten in my sad little office. Ever. I'd typically jump at any chance to lunch outside, but for home-cooked fried rice, I'd stay in anytime.

Tender Tentacles

2008-09-14T21:06:00.006+08:00

The other is simply boiled and served with a gentle squeeze of lemon. This was not the first time I tried the recipe for Galician Octopus, and it was even more delicious than I remembered it to be. Soft, tender octopus with just the right amount of bounce in its meat; tossed through a scrumptiously tangy and sweet dressing; what's not to love?

I made a little extra and spooned it over cruncy baby spinach, but alas it was still not enough to satiate my guests. They wanted more! They wanted bread to soak up all the juices!
The recipe for the dressing is reminiscent of the usual salad dressing I concoct for lazy/fat nights. But who would have known that jazzing it up with some smoked paprika and thinly sliced red onions would have made that much of a difference?

I'm adding red onions to my list of staples!

Yummy and good for you

2008-08-17T17:25:00.007+08:00

I don't know when or from where my mum got this idea of mixing honey with lemon, but for a period of time she'd make it for me every morning before I have to practically run out of the house to work. Whenever I have the sniffles or an itchy throat, she'd prescribe that to me as well. It was either that or some horridly bitter and ominously dark liquid that had been boiling for a couple of hours.

Bless her heart, but when she concocts these things she believes in economies of scale and boils a large potful of them so that it can last me a few days. Of course that means instead of being able to spread my agony over a couple of weeks, taking ample time to recuperate from the not-so-pleasant taste in between each dosage, I usually have a glass of it plastered to my hands as long as I am at home. And this would happen for many days at a stretch. Sometimes I even discover a bottle of it snuck into my handbag! Still, I gulp it all down and pop something sweet into my mouth immediately after.

In light of the dark liquid that is always the alternative to sniffles or itchy throats, I never fail to jump on the offer of a big glass of honey lemon. And now, it has joined my repertoire of drinks I would depend on if in need of something pleasant and refreshing to serve guests. This is especially crucial since my home is one of those where you’re more likely to find lemons and honey than Coke or Sprite.

For planned dinner parties, I am usually well prepared with a couple of vino or bubbly in the refrigerator just hanging. But when unexpected guests arrive and are thirsting for something sweet and soothing, I'd whip up a big batch of this in a couple of minutes and it’d be better than your store-bought carbonated drink overloaded with sugars and preservatives.

Simply mix your preferred proportion of honey, water and freshly squeezed lemon juice then top with a slice of lemon and a sprig of mint (optional). I always add some hot water to the honey first to get it all to dissolve then mix in some room temperature water to dilute it further.

But friends, be forewarned. Do not, I say DO NOT pour hot water directly into a glass jug, especially those with thick glass walls. It will crack, oh yes it will crack. I had to learn this the tough way. Colleagues and friends looked at me in horror as I recounted the incident, exclaiming that whether one could pour hot water directly into a thick-walled glass jug was a primary school Science question!

I cannot be more sorry for not paying attention in class.

Mid-week meals

2008-08-17T04:21:00.016+08:00

Whenever I lack the motivation to cook, there are a couple of sure-fire ways I usually seek to get inspired all over again.

1. Travel to an exotic country with a national cuisine vastly different from what I'm used to.
2. Read incredibly food blogs like The Travelors Lunchbox, Orangette, Kuidaore, Delicious Days, and Chubby Hubby just to name a few. One day, if I don't get inspired by the stunning photos or the delicious writing, I'd know I'm a gone case.
3. Equally peppered with beautifully inspiring photos and prose is Donna Hay, a magazine I'd almost kill myself if I somehow miss out on buying the last season's copy.

The latest issue has plenty of recipes for special days - tiny morsels of food as part of a larger grazing menu, or a more elaborate sit-down dinner comprising main courses that you can choose to spend anywhere between an hour to 3 days laboring over .

My favourite section though, is one for the everyday. They gave a recipe for osso buco and 3 accompanying quick recipes that uses osso buco in different ways. Great as a weekend project for sure. They also have a number of recipes for mid-week dinners meant to be casual and put together almost in a flash. There, I found the perfect getting-back-into-the-kitchen recipe.

Thai-style sweet and sour barramundi. It looked like all I had to do was clean and boil (the vegetables), fry (the fish), and mix (the dressing for the fish). The only laborious part was the cleaning and chopping of the vegetables (snow peas, but I added french beans and baby corn). After that, everything was a breeze. This iss presentable and satisfying enough to be served during mid-week casual dinners at home with close friends, but easy enough as a tasty mid-week dinner for yuppie-couples.

I made this for my brother and I this weekend, and substituted the barramundi with salmon. I enjoyed how the tartness of the thai-style dressing cut through the usually rich flavour of salmon. Simply blanched snow peas, french beans and baby corn were drizzled with some Japanese Roasted Cashew Salad Dressing that I bought at the Japanese fair recently. Okay, I cheated, but it is meant for a mid-week meal you know.

It is great getting back into the kitchen!

Thai-style Sweet and Sour Salmon
Recipe adapted from Donna Hay
Serves 4

Ingredients
1 tsp chiili flakes
1 tbspn sea salt flakes
4x200g salmon fillets, skin on
1 tbsp vegetable oil
300g snow peas, blanced and thinly sliced (or 100g snow peas, 100g french beans and 100g baby corn)
1/4 cup (60ml) lime juice
2 tsp brown sugar
1 tsp fish sauce

Method
To make the sweet and sour dressing, place the lime juice, sugar and fish sauce in a non-metallic bowl and stir to combine. Set aside
Combine the chilli flakes and sea salt and rub onto the fish skin.
Heat the oil in a large non-stick fying pan over high heat.
Cook the fish skin-side down for 3-4 minutes or until skin is crisp, turn and cook for a further 1-2 minutes then turn off the flame.
Serve with the dressing spooned over, and the side of snow peas, french beans and baby corn - blanched, drained and tossed in your favourite salad dressing (preferably not something tart like the sweet and sour dressing).

A long break, a new life...

2008-08-13T00:21:00.007+08:00

Crocodile Park in Mauritius with Stella and her parents

Instead of running up a tall tower like that shown in the video in my previous entry, I did something else - I ran away to Mauritius.

I had been feeling so out-of-sorts and knew I needed a proper break. Ever since I started work, I had not taken a break for myself. So it didn't take me long to book the cheapest return airfare to Mauritius I could find.

I spent about 10 days there resting and going to more beaches than I had ever visited in my life. That was a must, according to Stella. Looking at the crystal clear waters, and feeling the fine floury sand between my toes, I understood why. Stella, for the uninitiated, is my long-time toilet-mate from university who put forth an open invitation for free accomodation in Mauritius anytime I was disposed to fly over.

Mauritius is a beautiful place with plenty of sugarcane plantations to sweeten honeymoons. Mountain ranges are in sight virtually everywhere, no matter where you stand in Mauritius, thanks to low rise buildings. The first part of my trip experienced temperamental weather of strong winds and transient rain, but Stella and I prayed and prayed. Her friends and family showered warmth and hospitality that gave me all I needed to withstand the cold until the sun finally sauntered out from behind the clouds.

I was incredibly blessed to have Stella host me during my entire stay in Mauritius. Her family brought me to the Crocodile park that not only had giant tortoises I could sit on, but also served (surprise surprise) crocodile steak as pictured above. It had the tender chewiness of medium rare beef, but looked almost entirely like perfectly grilled pork steak. It tasted however, milder than I expected - a cross between chicken and fish. It was a thrill simply to taste crocodile steak.

There was so much Stella brought me to see and do in Mauritius that covering it all in one entry would do the trip little justice. Instead, I will share with everyone in later entries, specific (food) items I really enjoyed that left a deep impression in me.

Shortly after returning to Singapore, I spent the past week in Bangkok nursing a flu while trying to make sure I brought home some new clothes for my tired wardrobe. It was tough trying to stay chirpy and lively while my system threatened to breakdown with each hack or sniffle, but my beloved friend nursed me to health with many rounds of warm water, cough medication and Strepsils.

Am I refreshed and raring to go back to work tomorrow (actually, today since it is now 1.35am)? Not really. That I am typing this at 1.35am in the morning also means I'm probably going to feel lethargic at work while battling the thousands of emails in my inbox.

One good thing that came out of this break however, is that I have found energy to bake/cook again! I spent a good part of the last 24 hours in the kitchen playing with custards and batters. I am also very inspired to cook one of my favourite dishes from Mauritius. The problem is simply finding the key ingredient whose name I do not even know.

This long break was also meant to symbolically mark the closure of one big chapter in my life, and the start of a new one with a brand new, clean slate.

Sharing my latest favourite quote:
"Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the present." - Wugui master from Kungfu Panda

Good Days, Bad Days

2008-07-09T19:38:00.003+08:00

I have been feeling totally out of sorts.

Have you ever felt like every little thing you try to do right, is just turning out wrong? No matter how much you resolve to do things better the next time, when next time comes, somehow you still screw up? Work sometimes seems senseless and when the meaningless of it all hits the bone, it just feels crap. Somewhere inside, you know it shouldn't affect you so much but it just does. It consumes you, your every breath.

You've always tried to take things easy, to be positive and cheerful regardless of things happening around you. But when the tiny raindrops beat relentlessly, for what seems like forever, even the toughest of exteriors would finally break down. You let the raindrops fall deep inside you. You let them get the better of you.

Yet even this awareness can't help you get out of your funk. Talking to friends about it usually helps, but it hasn't this time round. Instead, they get increasingly concerned at your attitude and you fear the more you talk to them, you might somehow even screw up your relationships. One by one.

Have you ever felt this way? Anyone?

I think about better days, when spotting and eventually consuming a gigantic Anadara Cockle ( I think that's what they call it) at a small, discreet Japanese restaurant made me grin with glee for the rest of the day.

But today, I just feel like running to the end of the world and screaming my lungs out then collapsing in a heap.

And this video is giving me some ideas. If not the end of the world, then somewhere high, high up would do too.

Simple Pleasures

2008-06-28T18:46:00.005+08:00

How many times have I said 'Alright, today I shall bake a tart!'. Just in the past week alone, I must have said those 7 magic words at least 50 times. Ever since I became the proud owner of a gorgeous cookbook all about tarts (Eric Kayser's Sweet and Savoury Tart), I keep telling myself I really have to get down to baking the handsome Parma Ham and Pear tart. Or even the Bacon and Mushroom Quiche.

Unfortunately, I STILL haven't gotten down to it.

Instead, I succumbed to preparing far simpler dishes. None of the fiddly-diddly dough-kneading, even though the tarts seriously look finger-licking good. Perhaps tonight, tonight!

Many people overestimate the amount of work that is needed for cooking in general, and especially for food that looks fit for the cover of Donna Hay. Alas, it is not true! The effortlessness of wrapping bacon around a piece of chicken thigh, baking it at 180 degrees celcius for about 20-30 mins or until the middle registers 70 degrees celcius then garnishing it with chopped parsley, cannot be ignored.

The bacon bathes the chicken in its flavourful juices and protects it from the harsh heat in the oven hence keeping it moist. Pair it with a big serving of salad tossed in balsamic vinegar and olive oil, and it'd be a meal fit for... well in this case, me.

On another gloriously bright Saturday morning, the day called for something humbly plain. A pack of pork sausages, onions, hotdog buns, strawberries, lettuce and haloumi cheese later, I put together one of my all-time favourite salads, and made some sweet onion relish to complement a couple of hotdogs. 'Delicious' wouldn't even begin to describe it. Beautiful company with such a pure meal made that Saturday one of my most memorable Saturdays ever.

On the single rare occasion I actually bothered to put in just a little more effort, I had 8 spectacular pieces of lamb cutlets to thank for the blast of inspiration. Spotted in the meat section of Cold Storage one very innocent Sunday morning while grocery shopping, I could not peel my eyes off them and found my hands inexplicably wrapped around them shortly after. Somehow, somewhere, they ended up in the chiller section of my refrigerator, coated in a mixture of cumin, mustard seeds and black pepper all freshly pound in my under-used mortar and pestle.

After spending some tender-loving time in the frying pan with just a spot of olive oil, they were served with couscous (dried mint, lemon juice, salt, pepper and dried cranberries soaked in some hot water) and baby spinach salad (balsamic vinegar, olive oil, sugar, raisins, haloumi cheese).

The lamb cutlets (at about 65 degrees celcius on the meat thermometer) had only the faintest hint of pink and were succulent to the last bite. The combination of spices also fortuitously worked marvellously well with the lamb. It imparted an earthiness that complemented the natural gamey flavour one would find in lamb. The tangy and crunchy salad, together with the fluffy couscous grains were side dishes the lamb cutlets were certainly most proud to be placed next to. Or actually, sandwiched between.

Perhaps all I need is to make more grocery shopping trips, and wait for the inspiration to come. But in the meantime, I don't see much wrong with simple pleasures, or pleasures simply put-together.

Alright, today I shall bake a tart!

Muffins that go pop

2008-05-27T23:33:00.010+08:00

I found poppy seeds!

In my 3 years of study in Warwick, I arguably spent 1 full year in all browsing the aisles in Tesco, Costcutters, Sainsbury's and Marks and Spencers. Another year might have been spent travelling, half a year in one kitchen or another whipping up something for the next potluck, and the remaining half a year trying to cram bits and bobs of facts, dates, names and theories only to regurgitate them at the year-end exams.

In that 1 year I practically lived in the grocery marts, I got spoilt by high accessibility to fresh basil, easy-peel clementines and cheap booze among others. Of course, it was difficult finding for asian produce. And when I did, cooking a full chinese meal would burn a hole in my pocket.

Coming back home to Singapore, I felt like I had to (almost) travel across the island just to get fresh herbs at not so astronomical prices. Easy-peel clementines/Mandarin oranges would only be available around Chinese New Year. Booze, well. Nuff said.

So when I find ingredients I hardly see, I usually just grab a bottle/packet of it and start planning a dinner around it for the coming weekend. Or, if like in this case the expiry date is very forgiving, I buy the bottle of poppy seeds, keep it in my cupboard and just wait. And wait. And wait.

I can't remember the number of times I'd bought a pack of lemons thinking 'Today will be the day I bake some lemon poppy seed muffins.' Lets just say there were many cups of honey lemon drinks, water spiked with many slices (and in some cases, halves) of lemons and squeezed lemon halves peppering my refrigerator because my mum believes it helps remove odour.

One fine day, I finally took out the well respected tome for baking to search for a lemon poppy seed muffin recipe. Of course, I had no idea how poppy seeds taste, I simply followed the scaled down recipe and baked away. Judging from the amount of eggs and cream that was needed for this muffin, I had no doubt it would still taste delicious even if I managed to somehow screw it up.

In the end, this was all I had ever wanted in a muffin. Soft. Fluffy. Dense. Bouncy. With a gloriously cracked tophat. The taste of the poppy seeds? They don't seem to add any flavour, but these certainly added some interesting crunch to the muffins.

Unfortunately, I added too little lemon zest, having gotten frustrated at my not so effective zester. (I highly recommend the microplane to anyone looking to invest in a good zester. Initially made as a woodworking tool, these blades last forever and give you the thinnest shavings of zest, chocolate, cheese. ) It ended up tasting like... eggy muffins? Still, this was a great muffin recipe that I would adapt as the mother-of-all-mothers muffin recipe.

Trivia: Did you know that if you ate enough poppy seeds, you would test positive for opiates in a drug test? A loaf of poppy seed cake or a few poppy seed bagels later, you'd be a certified druggie.

Lemon Poppy Seed Muffins

Recipe from Baking and Pastry (Culinary Institute of America)

Ingredients

369g All Purpose Flour

1 tbsp baking powder

293g sugar

248g butter

142g creme fraiche (I used whipping cream)

255g eggs

60ml vegetable oil

30ml orange juice

43g lemon/orange zest

50g poppy seeds (I used way less than that and it was still beautifully crunchy)

1/2 tsp salt

Method

Sift flour and baking powder together into a bowl.

Cream the sugar and butter in a separate bowl with 1/2 tsp of salt on medium speed until batter is smooth and pale.

Blend in the cream.

Whisk eggs, oil and orange juice together, adding to butter-cream mixture in 3 batches, mixing well after each addition.

Blend in zest and poppy seeds.

Add flour in 3 batches, mixing on low speed after each addition.

Fill muffin cups up to 3/4 full. Tap them onto a table gently to help the batter settle into the cups.

Bake in a preheated oven at 191 degrees celcius for 30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted emerges clean.

Leave to cool then serve with a cup of hot tea.

Good Chocolate Loving

2008-05-11T14:25:00.004+08:00

Just a couple of weeks ago, I attended a talk on Pho. In my quest for more food knowledge, I eagerly signed up for another talk on Chocolate (An Enlightened Age: Chocolate in the 18th Century), and managed to tempt 8 other friends and family along.

Vincent Bourdin, the regional pastry consultant of Valrhona, spoke about how chocolate moved across the seas, how it evolved from a drink into a food, and how chocolate had been deeply intertwined in societal changes.

It was rather amusing when he whipped out a long stick to point to parts of the map in question. Very old-school and somewhat sexy, especially with his thick, black-rimmed glasses and tres strong French accent.

Things started getting sweet when some hot chocolate was served. Chef Bourdin had used a recipe that he felt best reflected the way it was made in the 18th century, which meant infusing cinnamon, pepper, cloves and adding orange blossom water to melted chocolate and just a touch of sugar.

What resulted was a strong, spicy hot chocolate, not like anything I had ever tried before. If you can imagine the heady, earthy chai tea meeting and falling in love with deep, rich and slightly bitter hot chocolate, Chef Bourdin's version of hot chocolate would be their love child.

While my friends and family finished their portions down to the last drop, even going back for second servings after the talk, it wasn't popular with everyone. My neighbour hardly touched his and offered his share to me, which I regret not taking now.

These talks have been pretty fun, and at merely $10-$25 per session, it's really a steal especially because of the big names that have been pulled in to conduct these talks. It shouldn't be surprising then, that a couple of my friends and I have already signed up for an upcoming one where we'll be eating out way through Austrian desserts. Sounds like pure bliss!

And now at a street near you!

2008-05-04T23:06:00.006+08:00

There are days when all you want is a big bowl of meepok, extra chilli, extra black vinegar. There are days when you know you wouldn't make it through the day if you don't get your hands on some chocolate fudge cake within the next half hour. And then there are those days when you're really looking forward to winding down the day with a big, huge bowl of crisp leafy salad tossed in some ultra-light but tasty dressing. Something 'light, plentiful and delicious'.

I had been searching for this elusive bowl of salad, a bowl that would be substantial enough to be an entire meal in itself. But more often than not, the salads I found were tiny little pretentious fistfuls placed in the middle of a big plate. In the worst of occasions, they were not well-dressed having been tossed in some oil-based dressing when the salad had not been completely dry, causing the dressing to slip off callously.

By sheer accident however, I chanced upon the ONE. I was with a couple of friends for some drinks after work one day and wasn't in the mood for the usual pub grub of ribs, sausages or mash. So I ordered a healthy sounding Soba Noodle Salad despite the seemingly hefty price tag on it. It arrived with great aplomb, and upon the first bite convinced me to willingly part with every dollar I forked out for the bill.

Soba Noodle Salad Takeaway

Such a contradiction of worlds, to have found such a fantastic bowl of salad in Brewerkz of all places. Before then, I would never have stepped into it because of the wanna-be vibe I got just from itz name. But I've been a faithful customer, bringing groups of friends there for 'drinks', however only ordering salad and water. Sure, I felt a little out of place, but it's that good. Even my mum raves about it now.

I was over the moon when I found out Brewerkz opened another outlet along Bukit Timah Road. Among the other outlets, this is its smallest, which explains a more limited menu. But all the westies would be happy to know that the Soba Noodle Salad is on the menu.

Lately, I discovered a couple of new, wonderful eateries near my home in the western part of Singapore. One of which has been blogged about by CH recently, that I've become a regular at together with my family. It's always nice to know that the ride home after dinner is a mere 5 minutes away, and not a 10-minute-walk-to-the-carpark-then-a-30-minute-drive away. More good news to come for all the westies out there!

Update (May): I visited the Bukit Timah outlet recently and ordered what else but the soba noodle salad, but was disappointed by the portion and the dressing that lacked oomph. I hope it's a teething issue!

Crowd Pleasers

2008-04-14T00:35:00.004+08:00

I used to keep a kitchen diary, a little book where I would take down recipes that I've tried and that worked. I'd start one, then start hunting high and low for it, with only a handful of recipes into the book. I've been through journals of all shapes, sizes and colours before I decided that I'd stop wasting my time with this truly vicious cycle.

If I still kept one of my kitchen diaries, this recipe for tomato tart would definitely be penned into the book. Although it wouldn't be much of a recipe as much as it would be a quick jotting down of 'Slow-roasted tomatoes, Caramelised onions, Char-grilled peppers and Puff Pastry/Table Water crackers/Anything nice and crunchy'.

It started out simply with just a fascination for this recipe that turned juicy, and mildly tart tomatoes into intensely sweet nibbles. So I started adding them to burgers, soups, canapes, and salads. Wherever I thought it wouldn't look out of place, it was always there to lend a hand.

Over time, I developed a similarly strong liking for slowly caramelised onions. Leaving onions to sweat in its own juices, waiting for it to turn a slight shade of brown and melt into utterly sweet tenderness is always a painful test of patience.

And then came char-grilled peppers. The first time I encountered these gems was, and I feel my face flush even as I'm typing this, through one of Jamie Oliver's cooking shows. I'm a not-so-secret fan of his, and am a sob-show when watching his TV series - school dinners. In his usual 'bim-bam-slam' style, he threw a couple of peppers onto an open fire on the stove and watched it turn totally black. He then left them to sweat in brown paper bags, then peeled off their skins, leaving behind soft, juicy, peppery flesh.

I was intrigued by the process, and didn't wait long to try it on my own, only to realise that I had been missing out on something so great for all 20 over years of my life. My love story with peppers started then.

And so the Mother-of-all-tarts was born. For convenience, it was named a tomato tart. It wouldn't have been as much a mouthful as a slow-roasted-tomato-and-caramelised-onions-and-char-grilled-peppers-tart. Even Tomato, Onion and Peppers Tart sounded too complicated for my mind to wrap around.

Something crunchy or flaky, like puff pastry, rolled out and punched out with cookie cutters then baked blind, provides much needed texture to the combination of all three ingredients above. And they never fail to be crowd pleasers. Even my brother who, like me, never fancied onions or peppers, would make exceptions for these bite-sized canapes.

The making of each of these components (tomatoes, onions, peppers) requires a lot of eye-balling. With just a little practice and perhaps some luck for good measure, you'll master it really quickly!

Links for recipes:
Slow-roasted tomatoes
Caramelised onions (I'd sometimes add white wine and/or sugar)
Char-grilled peppers

I Heart Fer... Pho.

2008-04-11T22:45:00.007+08:00

We all have various places we HAVE to visit when travelling. While some look for beautiful scenery, others might aim to cover all the museums in that country. My dad happens to be one of those museum buffs who would drag his poor daughter through the Louvre as he literally inches his way through the many, many rooms.

I have had terrible impressions of museums. They either had paintings or sculptures that look more similar the more I stared at them, or (in more contemporary museums) had odd installations that I could not make head or tail of.

I on the other hand, am almost always guided by my stomach when travelling. So while I popped into a couple of museums here and there, they're never on my priority list. I hardly even visited local museums except on school excursions countless years ago.

So I thought it was extremely clever of the National Museum of Singapore to put together a Food & Culture Series last year. I managed to attend just one of the talks on Mortar and Pestle, given by a very engaging Christopher Tan. Not only did I enjoy the session, it included a tour of the very stunningly renovated National Museum, and effectively changed my view of museums.

This year, the National Museum has organised a second Food & Culture Series. I was fortunate enough to snag a seat in the first of the talks on Vietnamese Pho (pronounced as 'fer'). When I arrived at the rotunda, I was welcomed by an awe-inspiring replica of David wrapped in a beautiful brocade textile (see picture above).

'The Story of Pho, The Story of a Nation' was a short talk on the history of this popular Vietnamese Beef Noodle dish, covering everything from the wars in Vietnam to the height of Pho in the 1940s. While a little heavy going, there were certainly illuminating and light-hearted moments. Perhaps the best part, and the part that everyone was probably waiting for, was the Pho tasting we were all served at the end of the talk, washed down with sweet mint tea.

It's great to know that as part of this second series, the course on chocolate is back by popular demand. Most exciting for me though, is the discussion on whether Food is Art where prominent chefs and artists will be brought together to battle it out. What's really unbelieveable is that it is free! The National Museum really knows that the way to many of our hearts (or at least mine) is through our stomach.

Ratatouille and Polpette

2008-04-08T14:33:00.007+08:00

I am often thankful for being so blessed in life - with a great family, a roof over my head, lovely friends who enjoy food as much as I do, and just as importantly, a kitchen with almost all the equipment I need (except a mandolin for, you know, those frustrating days of imperfectly julienned carrots and zucchini).

I was also fortunate to find someone who enjoyed cooking and eating as much as I did when I was overseas for three long years. Of course, I wished the kitchen were better equipped, and wished I didn't have to worry about taking up more than my fair share of space in the refrigerator that my 7 other flatmates shared with me. But I was grateful for a kitchen at all.

So when Addy asked if I could lend my kitchen to her 2 colleagues from France and Italy, I was more than happy to offer my home for a night. It was a fun and relaxing night for me since all I had to do was set the table, help crack eggs, point out the dried oregano on the herb rack and offer wine. In the meantime, N the Frenchman, was busy chopping and watching over multiple pots of peppers, onions, zucchinis and aubergines at one time. In a different part of my tiny kitchen (and by different part I mean 3 feet away), A the Italian was mixing the meat with eggs, breadcrumbs and herbs.

At the end of the night, we had a feast of Fusilli Carbonara, Sicillian Polpette (meatballs), Ratatouille, and to top it all off, Strawberry Tiramisu from Val.

As we loosened our belts and indulged in numerous portions of everything, N explained that there's no fixed recipe for ratatouille. While adding potatoes to it (as suggested by Val) is not common, one can add absolutely anything to it. N's version of it was tender, with each chunk of vegetable soft and still recognisable. Some like theirs mushy and a great big indistinguishable mass. Others like theirs resembling something along the lines of big chunks of vegetables in a tomato sauce, which I believe is delicious in itself and deserving more credit than my poor description affords it.

I thought that N's version was excellent, and not to mention tedious. Each vegetable had to be stir-fried separately, presumably to retain the flavour of each vegetable before mixing them altogether in a big pot together with a sauce comprised of chopped, peeled tomatoes, bay leaves and herbs. It was comforting and wholesome, the kind of dish I would gladly eat with rice (speaking like a true Asian) for every day of my life. Okay maybe not EVERY day, but for many days for the rest of my life.

The polpette were just as gratifying, and what I know to be common in Italian homecooking. Unlike our usual round suspects, these meat'balls' were shaped into big patties and pan-fried in oodles of sinful butter. Like most homecooked food, and like the ratatouille, one can wing the recipe and perhaps even make it your own with a signature blend of herbs?

It is arguable which was the star of the night though. While the ratatouille was truly delectable with its slight tang and full-on earthiness, the polpette were very tasty and tantalising with their slight touch of golden brown. If I really had to make a choice though, I think I'd go for the Strawberry Tiramisu which Val made and which blew all our socks off.

Okay, I guess I'm a little biased. I've known this girl since I was still sporting a bob-styled mob on my head. She's great at jumping over horizontally placed poles and irritating people with her tremendously skinny frame. But other than the time she had to cook for herself when she was in Milan for an exchange programme (during which she survived on alot of pasta, soup, and eating out), she hardly lifts a spatula, much less a whisk.

But loving Tiramisu so much, she decided to try to make it on her own one fine day. While not really difficult, it is one of those recipes that can easily go wrong. The mascarpone cheese might overwhelm the whole dish, the sponge fingers might not have been soaked through with the coffee and liquor, being too heavy handed with the cocoa powder and you'll end up with a mouthful of powder. Yet it seems that her first try was such a success that she made it again, and again, and again for a grand total of 6 times.

The strawberries provided much relief from an otherwise boring and texturally unexciting dessert. That was probably what did it for me - the strawberries. Even N, who proclaimed that he was just 'alright' with Tiramisu, ended up scraping the last bits. A, who stressed Val out by well, simply being an Italian, said that what she made was really, really good.

I'm super proud of her, and am now hunting for other recipes that don't require cooking, as it seems thats the only factor keeping her away from the kitchen. For the recipe she used, click here.

Waffles that truly kick ass

2008-03-11T22:07:00.007+08:00

Search no further for the lightest, most crisp waffles you'll ever find. There are times when you want something dense, chewy and comforting - like a deep, dark chocolate cookie, or a thick slice of chunky apple pie. But if you, like me, are concerned about packing on the kilograms with a mostly sedentary lifestyle that is inevitable when the going gets tough at work, then the last thing you would want after a heavy meal is another super heavy dessert.

These waffles, which I have blogged about before, comes out high on the list of desserts I'd serve friends during dinner parties. They should be made ala minute, and even better if everyone could make and decorate their own waffles.

Not only are they super delicious with just a little maple syrup or chocolate sauce, my friends somehow get a kick out of being able to play with their own food - even those who just don't think cooking or baking is as fun as I make it out to be, and who probably won't ever hold a whisk till the cows come home.

These yeasted waffles have a way of bringing the little kid out in everyone. A waffle party sounds like a damn super good idea now.

Hip Tastes

2008-03-06T16:26:00.007+08:00

How many times have you picked up a book on wine, only to either get lost within the first few sentences, or get droopy-eyed and regret ever wanting to learn more about wines. No matter how thin the book, how big the font or how many illustrations there were in the countless books I'd picked up at the book store, I would always slot it back into the shelf.

So when I received 2 books last Christmas, 1 about food and the other about wines, it was a natural choice to get started on the food book first. But when I finally got down to the book about wine - Hip Tastes, I was blown away by how easy it was to digest the information and instantly felt silly for ignoring it for so long.

While I'm not saying that I am now able to tell you which vineyards in Australia produce great Rieslings, at the very least I know how wines are made and the various major varieties of wine as well as their typical characteristics. The greatest part of the book? It kept me engaged from page to page. I was always reluctant to put it down for the night, something that only happens to me when I'm reading a novel with a gripping plot.

This would be THE book I'd recommend to wine novices like me, not know where to start and apprehensive about going for wine appreciation classes because of the potential of looking like a fool among those with far more sensitive palates, who can sniff out notes of tobacco and vanilla.

Inspired and raring to start experiencing wines, I organised a late-afternoon wine-tasting session with a couple of friends. I prepared some scallops and tomatoes while my friends contributed cheeses, grapes and sausages, all great fodder so that the alcohol wouldn't go straight to our head.

Using information from the book, I wrote interesting facts and common descriptions of each wine we had. We used these descriptions to guide our sniffing and swirling, trying to pick out aromas and flavours from each wine. We then each had to guess whether wine number 1 was a Muscadet, Pinot Grigio or a Sauvignon Blanc. It was really fun, and while we didn't emerge from the session as wine connoisseurs, it was a great way to spend the afternoon.

Or night, for that matter. We had a huge interlude after the reds and whites, played a couple of hours of Wii before carrying on with the dessert wine, ice cream and fresh strawberries. Oddly enough, you'd think that after all that wine I'd be smashed the next day. But I was more sore from the frantic punching movements for Wii than groggy from all the wines. Yet another great way to spend the weekend in. If you can't go out and join your friends, lure them to your home!

Chocolate-Toffee Cookie

2008-02-24T14:49:00.008+08:00

I've been stuck at home the whole weekend, or more accurately, I've been bound to my laptop because once in a while I'd receive an sms asking me to check my email as soon as possible. It's no fun, so I'm glad this won't last for long.

Given lemons, we should make some tangy, refreshing and spunky lemonade. Given bittergourd, we should stir-fry them with deliciously salty black bean sauce and pork ribs until meltingly soft. So I stopped whining about not being able to visit my favourite shopping haunts, and did something I had not done in a while - bake.

As easy as 1, 2, 3, 4.

Epicurious recently did an article about their most popular recipes on their website. Among a Three-Cheese Fondue with Champagne, Creme Brulee French Toast, and a Double Chocolate Layer Cake was a Giant Chocolate-Toffee Cookie that looked like all the elements of a great chocolate cookie rolled (or in this case, baked) into one.

Thinking it'd be a great idea to bring a big jar of chocolate cookies to work to help everyone cope with the Monday blues, I went out to buy some chocolate-coated toffee bars and eggs. When I settled into the whisking, stirring, scraping and chopping in my kitchen, I was reminded how much I really enjoy baking, cooking, preparing food. I literally stood in front of my oven, unable to peel my eyes away from the beautifully bubbling batter.

True enough, all elements of a great chocolate cookie - chewy, intensely chocolate-y and yummiliciously rich. Not to mention that these are not difficult to bake, and do not require any fancy equipment or ingredients.

I think I could get used to this. Not that I want to get stuck at home during the weekends, virtually chained to my laptop. But if this ever happens again, I know just the thing to do to help ease my pain.

Kim Bak Soon

2008-02-03T23:23:00.000+08:00

If not for my younger cousin who has a liking for all things Korean, and has just returned from an exchange programme in Seoul, I would never have thought of preparing kimchi (Korean appetisers usually served in tiny portions at the beginning of every meal) or anything from that land of abusive girlfriends and chauvinistic men.

Like a fish out of water, I scrutinised every item on the shelves in the Korean mini-mart baffled by the unfamiliar strokes, trying to find for Jajangmyeon noodles and other things like Shin Kimchi or the hot, red pepper powder that I'm certain has another tongue-twisting Korean name for it.

Surprisingly however, the preparation in the kitchen is not as complicating as shopping for the ingredients. It was terribly easy once all the ingredients were at hand. To make Bak Choi Kimchi it was just a matter of soaking the vegetables in brine and rinsing it before mixing it with the homemade Kimchi paste that was put together in a flash the blender. Other Kimchi-s such as the Poggi Kimchi (Napa cabbage) or the Kaktugi (Radish) followed almost the same steps.

Making the Kimchi Jeon (Kimchi pancake) or Pa Jeon (Seafood pancake) was even more brainless. Flour, egg, water, whisk, add filling, fry! According to my little cousin, only the most sour type of Kimchi that is generally used for cooking and not eating (very much like cooking chocolate vs. eating chocolate) should be used for the Kimchi Jeon. Unfortunately there was no Shin Kimchi in the mini-mart, but I settled for what the store owner pointed to as the more sour version of all the kimchi-s she had.

Our Kimchi Jeon turning out hilariously thick as I had poured too much batter into the tiny frying pan, resulting in it having nowhere else to run but upwards. But it was still incredibly tasty and satisfying. The kimchi provided enough saltiness to allow it to subsist without the usual accompaniment of light soy sauce.

Being adventurous and perhaps overly ambitious, we also made JaJangMyeon (Zha Jiang Mian, Black Bean Paste Noodles) and rice balls using recipes from my latest cookbook purchase: 'Discovering Korean Cuisine - Recipes from the Best Korean Restaurants in LA'. We also made pork nuggets using a recipe my cousin picked up from Seoul.

The following morning I decided I'd use some leftover cooked crabmeat to make a Pa Jeon. I added sliced squid rings and fresh prawns and attained a more delicate tasting pancake whose flavours were accentuated with a touch of light soy sauce.

If I had known it'd be so easy, I would have started much, much earlier. Of course, now the problem would be figuring out which of the 20 varieties of roasted, seasoned seaweed staring at me blankly in the mini-mart the recipe is asking for! And if I can single-handedly finish all the kimchi my cousin and I made that is now sitting pretty in huge containers in the fridge, I will turn into what my brother calls 'Kim Bak Soon'. Very bak (meaty) indeed. If anyone would like to challenge how one can get bak purely on vegetables alone, one look at my perfectly rotund bunny who eats hay, hay and more hay, should put an end to that conversation.

Chinese Take-outs

2008-01-27T01:00:00.000+08:00

Ironically, but perhaps unsurprisingly, when I saw these tres cute Chinese take-out boxes, it reminded me more of America than of China. The first time I saw these was on an American television programme, thanks to globalisation, where a fair-skinned, pale-haired couple was eating noodles clumsily with a pair of wooden chopsticks.

Ever since I spotted them at 'Baguette' at Raffles City Shopping Centre (they use it for their salad takeaways), I have been hunting them down. Lo and behold, where else would I spot it but at Spotlight, the one-stop place for arts and craft that also stocks random home-ware.

It was also extremely timely and felicitous that I spotted them just a day before a scheduled American-Diner-themed potluck party with a couple of friends who studied or have visited America at some point or another. They had no problems coming up with items to bring, we had gherkins, burgers, tater tots, crinkle-cut fries, coleslaw, pancakes, milkshakes... the works.

And because I don't like sending people home empty-handed, I decided to get the take-out boxes to use as a simple packaging for some cookies. Or more specifically, homemade Butter Shortbread Cookies made with love and vanilla beans that imparted delicious scent and flavour. I spiked half of the batch with lemon essence and a touch of cinnamon, while I added dried cranberries and raisins to the other half batch.

I used to have to take a whole day just to fill up my cookie jar. Well I bet you would too if you were using a tiny convection oven, that doubled up as a microwave oven, too small to bake more than 6 muffins or a batch of 9 cookies at one time. Agonising would be too mild a word to use and everytime I baked cookies they were truly a labour of love. More labour than love though. Thankfully a built-in convection oven solved all that. I can now bake 2 sheets of cookies at one go, each holding up to 40 cookies each.

And so within just two hours, after placing the big bowl of coleslaw in the chiller and putting a lid on the saucepan of freshly made barbeque sauce, I had about 100 shortbread cookies filling the home with the irresistible aroma of butter and cinnamon.

Ever since my alma mater - SCGS - introduced me to the wonderful world of baking with cheese twists and scones, I have baked countless cookies using countless recipes. And only a handful of these cookies have stood out, for their amazing crumbly texture, their oat-ful chewiness (even if they don't look appetising at all), their incredibly nutty flavour, or simply for how cute they look.

What this cookie stands out for is in its slight touch of saltiness, that while may sound odd, definitely tastes unique. But not unique the way one would usually say, 'Hmmm, this Fennel Cheesecake certainly tastes... *gag*... unique.' On the contrary, the mildly perceptible saltiness of the cookies seemed to help accentuate the lemon essence and the amazing vanilla.

Admittedly, the cookies are more crunchy than melt-in-your-mouth crumbly, the way I expect shortbread cookies to be. I would lower the temperature a little in future and bake them only until the very moment their edges turn sun-kissed. But I'm sure that even if the cookies had turned out rock hard, my friends would have appreciated the gesture. Who can resist such cute Chinese take-out boxes?!

Click here for Ming Tsai's recipe on Epicurious, for the Butter Shortbread Cookies.

D.I.Y.

2008-01-07T10:07:00.000+08:00

I'm so terribly ashamed of myself. That for as long as I have not blogged, I have not touched a pan, or a whisk. Nor the pale yellow skin of a bulb of fresh, raw garlic. Or heard the sizzle of the garlic as it touches gently heated olive oil.

In the past few weeks, when people talked about food, my eyes didn't sparkle the way they usually would have. Even more blasphemous, I caught myself, on multiple occasions during lunch, buying a tuna sandwich that was evidently hastily put together a good 4 hours ago, rather than queueing up for a delicious bowl of Wanton Noodles at the store next door. Of course, that tuna sandwich would not be able to fill me up, and I would resort to crackers or biscuits at half-hourly intervals.

Each weekend was burnt paying back my sleep debt that I had accumulated at an alarming rate through the week. I spent my few waking hours putting some food into my tummy just so that I would not be disturbed by a growling tummy while I was asleep.

I wasn't sulking my days away of course, but I must admit rather embarrassingly that my kitchen apron has been very much neglected. Of course, this blog included.

I have however, much fodder to last me a couple of blog entries to come, just simply no time to blog about it. And so it is, that I am at my desk now, taking a much needed break while waiting for my bosses to reply my emails, blogging about homemade ricotta cheese.

Making cheese is possibly among the ranks of making ice-cream for most people - incredulously impossible. Yet both are, like the violin or the guitar, so deceptively simple to pick up, though perhaps difficult to master. While I approached the recipe that I had spotted in Donna Hay's magazine on making my own ricotta cheese with much trepidation, I am extremely delighted to report that it is incredibly simple.

My friends who had arrived early for a party, were eager beavers and asked to help. So they got into an assembly line to dish out little table water crackers of homemade ricotta cheese, oven roasted tomatoes soaked in olive oil (yes, the same ones from the previous post), diced ham and parsley. Season and serve, tres simple.

It helped that the ricotta cheese could be made up to a week in advance so I didn't have to worry about the ricotta cheese draining in time for the finger food to be served. A word of warning however, is that starting out with just a little milk will yield a pathetically measley portion of ricotta cheese. So be daring and just pour the whole darned carton of fresh milk in!

Ricotta

Makes 1 1/4 cups (287g)

Donna Hay Issue 35

Ingredients

6 cups (48 fl oz) full cream milk

2 tbspns white vinegar

Method

Place milk and a candy thermometer in a saucepan over medium heat and heat to 80 degrees celcius.

Remove from heat, add vinegar and allow to sit for 5 minutes or until curds form.

Line a colander with fine muslin and place over a deep bowl.

Use a slotted spoon to carefully spoon the curds into the colander.*

Allow to drain for 5 minutes.

(I improvised with some coffee machine filter paper instead.)

Spoon the ricotta into a glass or ceramic dish and loosely cover with plastic wrap.

Store in the refrigerator for up to 1 week.

* The reason the curds need to be carefully spooned is to ensure they hold their shape. Pouring the curds straight into the colander will result in the cheese becoming dry and grainy.

These are a few of my favourite things...

2007-12-26T11:13:00.000+08:00

Before I left Singapore to study in UK for 3 years, I was a big fan of bread. Bread in sandwiches, croutons in salads, old bread in bread pudding, thinly sliced and toasted bread in crostinis etc...... I would gladly choose to dine in delicatessens over the restaurant next door or try the famous wanton noodles at the hawker centre down the road.

That I had forgotten my roots, was not an uncommon accusation tossed my way by friends who have been victim to my sandwich-craze. Foccacia, ciabatta, wholewheat, walnut, spinach and cheese, rye, oatmeal, multi-grain; ham, roast beef, slow-braised pork, pulled pork, roast chicken, pan-fried prawns, roasted vegetables; onion marmalade, wasabi aioli, avocado puree, mustard, tartare sauce, curried mayonnaise; iceberg lettuce, rocket, spinach, cucumber slices etc...... all the permutations and combinations were mind-boggling and extremely exciting.

Of course, all this was until I went to UK, the land of roast beef, yorkshire puddings, baked potatoes and sandwiches. For the first couple of weeks of course, I was over the moon with the variety of sandwiches there. But as you can imagine, I slowly got sick and tired of it all and started craving for Laksa, Mee Hoon Kuay, Ice Kacang and Muah Chee, among other things.

So when I came back home each holiday, I would not waste much time satisfying all my cravings, eating ONLY local grub for each meal.

Now that I've been back for a year and a half, I guess I'm no longer reeling from the thought of eating sandwiches for lunch anymore, and have started loving the smell of freshly baked bread again. I know I've recovered entirely when I walk into Culina at Dempsey, spot a gorgeous hunk of sundried tomato foccacia and grab it without a moment's hesitation.

I also got some camembert cheese from Culina to go with it. Now I don't like strong cheeses, and camembert falls into that category for me. But a life-changing experience with a truffle-infused camembert cheese during one of my visits to my aunt in Paris made me a different person. While I've been hunting for it in Singapore ever since, I've never gotten lucky. But combining a dollop of Tetsuya's black-truffle salsa (also from Culina) with some soft camembert cheese is as good as it gets.

With a scarily overwhelming stock of leftover ham from all the Christmas feasting, I took the opportunity to create a little supper platter by combining a few of my favourite things - black-truffle salsa with camembert cheese, a couple of slices of comforting ham, a small portion of leftover oven roasted cherry tomatoes kept in mandarin-orange infused olive oil, and a chunk of that flavourful sundried tomato foccacia bread.

I don't think I could have felt any happier enjoying every single morsel on that platter. It was a great post-christmas moment, and wrapped up my Christmas beautifully.

The Wow Factor for Christmas

2007-12-23T21:40:00.000+08:00

Some of you might be planning a dinner party for Christmas Day or Christmas Eve. Depending on how involved your other courses are, you might not intend for an elaborate dessert. Though understandable, since desserts are usually more fiddly and requires more precise measurements, I still try my best to make the dessert shine. Partly because I have a really sweet tooth, but also because being the last item of the night, it helps end the meal on a spectacularly high note.

So when I chance upon desserts which look like I took more time than I really spent to prepare it, I make sure I flag the pages with my bright yellow post-its that scream 'Make me again! Make me again!'

For the Christmas dinner that I spoke about in my previous post, I prepared 2 desserts. A Coffee Syrup Panna Cotta as well as a Pressed-Crust Apple Tart. The great thing about the Panna Cotta is that it can be made a day ahead, leaving you plenty of time to worry about other stuff like how the napkins don't really match the table cloth or how the centrepiece of the table could do with a few more candles.

The latter dessert is really a cheater's way out of making a tart. It doesn't exactly taste like a tart as the texture is more like a cake. It does however look like a tart, except the three components (crust, pastry cream, topping) are missing. Positively speaking, that means you don't have to make three different items just for one course! It's also gorgeous to look at, especially if you have a couple of those marvellous mini tart pans or beautiful rectangular tart pans to use.

It's really easy since it only requires a simple creamed batter that you spread in the tart pan, and some apples, peeled, cored and sliced into 1/6 segments. The batter will puff up beautifully in the welcoming warmth of the oven, while the apples will yield to the warmth and soften into tender chunks.

If you're looking for a dessert recipe that will wow your guests, yet you don't want something as time consuming as the tiny shots of Coffee Syrup Panna Cotta, this Pressed-Crust Apple Tart aka Cheater's Apple Tart would be it for you. And when you hear the moans of pleasure from your guests, you'll probably never look at baking desserts with the same phobia again.

This recipe is slightly adapted from "Real Simple", one of my favourite magazines. It calls for peeled, cored and halved pears and they do look fantastic when presented with halved pears. Unfortunately, the only pears I could find were humungous conference pears that were too big for my tart pan, and which I eventually used for the jams instead.

If you however, cannot be arsed about how your dessert looks as long as your guests enjoy it, I've earmarked another recipe that I know never fail to please the palate. Jane Lawson's Cocina Nueva has a great, moist and tasty recipe for an Almond Cake that I've used time and again, and that keeps extremely well. Though, I must admit I always use either another variety of nut to replace the almond, or add another nut to the recipe. The combination of almond and peanut worked well the first time I used the recipe. I recently attempted the recipe again, and used almost equal portions of ground peanut and hazelnut, and whaddaya know, I had a mooncake-cake that wasn't a mooncake! It's really amazing.

Pressed-Crust Apple Tart

Adapted from Real Simple, Nov 2007

Ingredients

1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temp

1 cup all purpose flour

1/4 tsp baking powder

1/2 cup sugar, plus 1 1/2 tbspns

1 large egg

2 apples, peeled, cored and cut into sixths each

1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

1/4 cup apricot jam (I used the homemade Spiced Pear Jam)

1 tbspn fresh lemon juice

whipped cream (optional)

Special equipment: 14 inch rectangular tart pan

Method

Combine flour and baking powder in medium bowl, set aside.

Cream butter and 1/2 cup sugar at high speed in large bowl of electric mixer.

Lower speed to medium, add egg and beat until incorporated.

Gradually add flour mixture until fully incorporated - dough will be very soft (almost like tomato paste).

Push (or in my case, spread) dough into the pan to form an even crust.

Arrange apples on top, sprinkle with cinnamon and remaining sugar.

Bake in a buttered tart pan in oven at 180 degrees celcius (350 degrees farenheit).

Bake until crust is golden brown, about 45 mins.

Let cool.

Heat jam and lemon juice in a small saucepan over medium-low heat, mixing until combined.

Remove from heat and brush gently over the entire tart.

Serve with the whipped cream, if desired.

Gift from the heart

2007-12-22T02:16:00.000+08:00

Oogling over the gift guide over at CH's, I've already picked out a couple of items to get as presents for myself since I've been an obedient girl (for most part of) this year. Some, especially a certain pale blue beauty featured in the post, require a great deal of saving up for. For the not-so-well-endowed, the spatula, plastic cocktail shaker, teastick, teas and the books would make great gifts for foodies like me *hint*.

Among the range of books, I had a chance to get my hands on San San's book - Ashley. I scanned through the book really briefly at first, as I was concurrently trying to sustain a conversation without being too rudely distracted. With the little snippets of what I caught, it seemed like a pretty touching story. When I slowly thumbed through the pages during a leisurely bus ride later on, there was little I could do to stop my tears. It may not be as festive as Christmas gifts usually are, but it is most meaningful. If you'd like to get a copy for yourself, please email San San at bookashley@gmail.com.

Meaningful gifts come in many forms. Through a book with a simple but great message. Through the Black Cocktail Shaker you know your friend has been eyeing. Or through a beautifully quaint and extremely fragile perfume bottle that comes with a scent that you think matches her personality best.

But if you're really dry on inspiration, nothing says 'I'm glad to have you as a friend' like a simple homemade gift.

I had a simple Christmas gathering yesterday, where I invited a big bunch of friends over to my place and prepared a buffet spread. As little take home gifts, I decide to prepare some Spiced Conference Pear Jam that seemed suitable for the occasion. These Conference Pears I bought in Cold Storage were astoundingly huge, juicy and sweet.

My usual partner-in-crime, Addy, came over to help out and it was the first thing we got started on. 6 big pears yielded about 1800ml of jam. Using a ratio of 1 (sugar): 2 (fruit), and some lemon juice (I added the juice of 1 lemon in total) I threw the sugar into a big, heavy pot together with the lemon juice and the peeled, cored and roughly chopped fruit. After boiling and slow simmering with some added spices (cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg), I added about a tablespoon of gelatine for good measure. It was taken off the heat when the concoction turned slightly syrupy, but the jam could probably afford a little more gelatine for something more firm. Once the jam cooled, they were poured into clean glass jars and tied with ribbons.

Seeing their faces as I handed out the little bottles of pear jam was priceless. Even if the jam/cookie/muffin/cupcake doesn't turn out well, present it anyway and I'm sure the gesture would be appreciated.

At the very least, they would say 'I may not know how to make cupcakes, but for you my dear friend, I tried.'

The Whirlwind of Insanity

2007-12-16T23:07:00.000+08:00

Claypot Fishhead at Bukit Timah Market

This picture sort of says it all. A little crazy and a ton of damn good food, is how I would describe the last 2 weeks when Stella visited. My roomie in my third year of Uni and the one who shared much of my joy, and brought me so much comfort when I was down. When she decided to visit 2 months ago, I was over the moon!

I had been busy in the weeks leading up to her arrival but took the spare minutes in bus rides on the way to work or on the way home, to plan for places I had to bring her to. Over lunches and dinners with friends or colleagues, I would also consult them and seek their suggestions to make sure I would not leave out any part of Singapore.

From the touristy - Duck Tour, Hippo Tour, Esplanade, Geylang, Chinatown, to the less popular - Bukit Timah Market, Haji Lane, we walked and walked and walked. It helped keep the spare pounds at bay, but also meant that at the end of each day, Stella and I were thoroughly worn out.

Unfortunately, we still didn't get to visit some places. The National Museum, Dempsey Road, St. James, and most unfortunately, the DHL balloon. By the time I got my hands on the tickets, it rained every other day! Perhaps it was a blessing since she did have a height phobia ( you should have seen her clinging to my arm going up escalators in big shopping malls like Central Mall and Wisma Atria).

Thankfully though, she enjoyed her time here. As long as there was a constant supply of Ice Kacang, she was happy. After the countless orders of Ice Kacang at various places, we're convinced that one of the best servings of Ice Kacang can be gotten from one of the most unlikely places - Bukit Panjang Plaza. They're generous with their ingredients and do not add anything fancy or unnecessary, unlike the equivalents of Ice Kacang that we had in KL that oddly included peanuts. Plus, we both love red bean and the extra dollop of red bean on top was a big bonus.

Everynight, we'd shower immediately after reaching home and turn on our laptops to upload photos, relive the day, and laugh about things happening in Facebook. We'd turn in late, wake up relatively early and plan the rest of the day according to the weather. Very unsurprisingly, I planned our menu first, then let that dictate where we would end up.

I also arranged for old friends from Warwick to meet her as well, and a regular during these gatherings was Fel of course. She was the perennial fellow potluck-er at Warwick and a bundle of joy.

During one felicitous night, my brother joined us for dinner at Brewerkz over ribs and salad (the Soba Noodle Salad is tremendously yummy and you haven't lived till you tried it). I loved how things worked out that night, and the chemistry that flowed around the table. My brother, being his usual comic self, was entertaining. Having three people I adore and love so much sharing a meal together was a mind-blowing experience. It felt surreal and I couldn't have asked for more.

Now Stella has left and gone home. The send off at the airport was, fortunately, not a tearful one. As usual, Fel was there with her laughter and jokes to lighten the mood and make her departure a happy one. But I cannot help missing her oodles.

Her smell still lingers in my room, and I've pinned down the smell to the moisturizer she slathers onto her skin generously. She also left that moisturizer behind, among other things, to make space in her luggage. Yes, she bought THAT much.

She also left behind many thoughtful gifts for my family and I. I wish I could have taken the sight of my bed the first night she arrived and unpacked her luggage, half of which was of gifts which I unwrapped on my bed. A beautiful handsewn tablecloth with matching napkins, a cookbook from Mauritius (Thank You Aunty!), a container full of tiny green chillis, and my favourite, 4 packs of tapioca biscuits in Milk, Custard and Coconut flavours.

She brought these biscuits from Mauritius back to Warwick after one summer holiday and I fell in love. They were incredibly dry, like Weetabix, and just the way I like it. I was touched that she never forgot that and brought me not one, nor two, but four packs of that lovely stuff. I resolved to ration this stash, to last me for at least a couple of months. But tough luck. She has been gone for less than a week and half of it is gone! Ah, what determination or lack thereof.

The many days of leave I took to spend with her was worth it down to the minute. It was such a good break and now I'm reeling from the many emails that greeted me when I returned to work. Already, I cannot wait to visit her in Mauritius. I also cannot wait to try the recipes in the cookbook her mum got for me! Stella! Wait for me! I will be there one day!

A Hiatus Haiku

2007-12-06T02:32:00.000+08:00

She's in Singapore,

And I've taken a week's leave!

Need I explain more?

Mourning for the Turkey

2007-11-25T01:07:00.000+08:00

When a couple of old friends came together to throw me a surprise birthday party at a cool flower-themed cafe, I was elated and thoroughly touched. At that very dinner, we made a date to celebrate Thanksgiving together just because. It was a convenient excuse to massacre a turkey, subject it to long periods of gentle heat, drown it with huge scoops of gravy and stuff ourselves with big forkfuls of the white/red meat as well as the accompanying stuffing, green bean casserole and salad.

Of course, one cannot forget the Pecan (Pee-ken, Per-con, Pee-kan) and Pumpkin Pies. To show how grateful I was for the surprise birthday dinner, I volunteered my home and to prepare the turkey, which would be the gargantuan task for the dinner.

Believe me, I was apprehensive right from the moment the words 'I'll do the turkey!' (which sounds really iffy in fact) left my lips. I was more apprehensive when I saw the big frozen Butterball Turkeys sitting in the freezer in Cold Storage. I was even MORE apprehensive when I plonked the defrosted, dripping turkey on my Mario Batali Pizza mat (a gift from my colleagues, and convenient for anything from dough to turkey!) and realised the real enormity of the bird.

But I kept my faith. All throughout slathering the bacon and sage butter in between the skin and the flesh of the turkey, I kept my faith. While fumbling with the twine that came with the turkey, to keep the thigh and wings in place, I kept my faith. While basting the bird with my big 'eye-dropper', I did so with tender loving care, believing that the more effort I put into the bird, the more it would reward me with a beautifully golden sheen.

Thankfully, all the hardwork paid off. As did the diligent flipping of the potatoes and parsnips that sat in all the terribly, sinfully, delicious drippings. It was a huge challenge, moving the turkey from the oven to the biggest plate I had. And thankfully, I had friends who knew how to carve the turkey efficiently while I fussed around the wines and water.

I was really worried that the turkey would end up dry, which it is notorious for. While being one of the healthiest meats, with the lowest calorie and fat count, the side effect for all that is usually tasteless meat. Brining the turkey from about 24-48 hours is known to resolve the dry-turkey, but I did not have the luxury of time for that, being too busy for the entire week before.

So the recipe I adapted from Epicurious (and no less), was one which also promised moist meat from the savoury butter sandwiched between the skin and the flesh of the turkey. I guess from all the rave reviews of the recipe, I was pretty confident that it wouldn't turn out half bad.

It certainly didn't turn out half bad, and was in fact really really good. This of course, has piqued greater interest in the entire brining process that supposedly yields even better turkey! With such a huge turkey, just a salad, a green bean casserole and a stuffing was all that was necessary to satiate everyone's hunger and palates.

I repeated this a couple of times throughout the night, and I'm going to state it here again: It felt so surreal discussing politics, Myanmar and the Shia Crescent in front of an exposed turkey bone. And perhaps I was getting high from all the white shiraz, beaujolais nouveau and chardonnay, but the more I looked at the naked carcass especially surrounded by the beautiful purple flowers, the more it resembled a funeral!

Of course, I brushed all those thoughts aside once the pumpkin and pecan pies emerged. The recipe for the pumpkin pie was also gotten from Epicurious. And despite a failed attempt, my friend admirably perservered! He was a little late, but I was truly touched. Faced with that situation, I believe I would have just copped out and run to the nearby bakery for a ready-made pie or cake. He kept to his word and didn't arrive without a homemade pumpkin pie in tow.

As the night wore on and the laughter got considerably louder, possibly from all the freely flowing wine, and as we debated about the proper pronunciation of PECAN, I couldn't help glowing with joy. It was a wonderful feeling of contentment. That very moment epitomised my motivation for hosting dinner parties. Admittedly, these can be tiring, depending on how challenging the menu is, and whether it is a potluck or entirely cooked from scratch.

But listening to concurrent conversations over the dinner table and watching plates of food get passed around, knowing that people are comfortable and happily full - few other occasions can beat this.

A Shoulder of Lamb

2007-11-18T23:22:00.000+08:00

Other than the big four - Chicken, Duck, Beef and Pork, I've hardly tried cooking any other meats. So when I go to the market, I hesitate approaching mutton and lamb sellers for fear of getting cheated. I can't tell my mutton from my lamb and looking rather inexperienced, I won't be surprised if I've already been fleeced of a tidy sum of money. I've stopped going to the market for lamb or mutton, more because I'm a little paranoid about how the meat had been treated than being worried about my purse strings.

So I look elsewhere for my lamb. Green Grocer of course had a variety of cuts. Maybe it is because I have a penchant for all things very small (yes, certain parts of me could afford to be smaller too), among the variety of meats and cuts, I was lured to the mini lamb shoulder roasts. However, seeing how it was pre-marinated, I opted for the Grain-fed Lamb Shoulder Roast instead. If I was going to roast a lamb, I wanted to do it properly without cutting any corners. The pre-marinated version would come in handy for lazy days, but then again if I'm lazy I'm unlikely to even bother popping the lamb into the oven for about an hour, which is how long mine took me.

While diligently researching for a reliable way of cooking the lamb shoulder, I must admit I contemplated using it for another recipe that didn't call for lamb shoulder, until I felicitously spotted a recipe in Damien Pignolet's French. It used easily accessible ingredients and wasn't at all fussy. While time consuming, all the time is just in the waiting. Between popping the lamb shoulder in and until the lamb was medium done, I had sufficient time to prepare a whole pot of veal stock (which of course also required little effort), and slowly concoct an Asian salad dressing just because I was feeling inspired.

I used to shy away from preparing lamb using any method other than stewing simply because I felt that achieving the perfect doneness would be a huge challenge. The traditional press-test is not the most reliable (I really think I have artificially tough palm flesh, being a tennis player) and it is almost impossible trying to determine how pink the juices of the lamb is against the very unhelpful grey background of my roasting pan.

But armed with my meat thermometer, I felt invincible! It was simply a matter of sticking the tip into the thickest part of the meat and watching the needle steadily creep up to 70 degrees celcius. And for anybody trying to roast a lamb for the first time, this recipe would be as good as any to start with. The caramelised garlic was mushily sweet, while the chopped parsley was a refreshing interlude amidst mouthfuls of gamey lamb.

As the Grain-fed Lamb Shoulder from Green Grocer came wrapped in some elastic-twine netting, I just had to slip it off for the stuffing, then reuse the netting for the cooking process. It certainly saved me the hassle of buying twine. So if you have twine and a meat thermometer, you're already two-thirds of the journey towards a delicious Roasted Lamb Shoulder stuffed with Garlic and Parsley.

Roast Lamb Shoulder with Confit Garlic, Parsley and Herbes de Provence
From Damien Pignolet’s French
Serves 4 Yuan Family Members or 6-8 normal appetites

Ingredients
15 cloves garlic, unpeeled
Olive oil
4 bunches curly-leaf parsley, leaves plucked and washed
2 boned shoulders of lamb, without necks – about 450g each
salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tsps herbs de Provence
300ml chicken stock or water (I used veal stock)
½ bunch curly-leaf parsley, finely chopped

Method
Put unpeeled garlic into small saucepan, adding enough olive oil to cover and slowly heat, using a thermometer to check the temperature: try to maintain oil at 70 degrees celcius (I think 60-65 would be sufficient) until the garlic is soft, about 30-40 mins.

It is important that they do not begin to fry. Set aside. When cool, drain and peel the garlic, reserving the oil [which may be used within 2 days for sautéing potatoes].

Blanch the parsley leaves in boiling salted water for a few minutes until soft. Drain and refresh in cold water then squeeze dry and chop roughly. Set aside.

Lay the lamb shoulders skin-side down on a bench. Scatter lightly with salt, pepper and herbs. Distribute the garlic cloves and parsley between the shoulders and roll up each into a neat sausage shape, securing with twine at 3cm intervals.

Preheat oven to 130 degress celcius. Heat 2 tbspns olive oil in a roasting tin and brown the seasoned shoulders over moderate heat then remove. Discard the fat in the pan, place a roasting/cake rack inside then put the lamb shoulders on top. Transfer to the oven and pour the stock into the tin.

Roast for about 1.5 hours or until the juices run faintly pink (or like in my case, until a meat thermometer inserted into the thickest section reads 70 degrees celcius). Check occasionally and add a little water if the stock has evaporated. Transfer to the warmed platter, loosely cover with foil and allow to rest for 20 mins (I skipped this step and nothing major happened).

Strain the stock into a small saucepan and bring to simmer, skimming to remove the fat. Remove the twine from the lamb and carve into 5mm-thick slices across the width of the shoulders.

To serve, moisten the meat with a little stock and scatter with the chopped parsley.

Online Green Grocers

2007-11-12T19:42:00.000+08:00

Some time back, Chubby Hubby had posted a shout-out calling for people who wanted to be the first to try new things in the food scene. I didn't even have time to think before I found myself composing an email to him voluntering myself for it.

Then last month, I received a very exciting email followed by 3 $50 vouchers to spend at Greengrocer. Within minutes of opening my mail, I went online to browse through the online grocery store. And within seconds, I was sending the link to a couple of my closer friends who would understand that I get easily excited by good quality tinned crabmeat (think of all the effort and time saved), fresh oysters, frozen scallops (I know, I know, but where else for the good stuff with roe?), veal bones, lamb shoulder...... you get the drift.

As there was a $30 delivery charge for purchases below $150, I had to use up all the credits at once. So I planned for a big, indulgent dinner and what better day than my dad's birthday? Being a big fan of seafood and red meat, choosing what to buy for my dad should have been pretty easy but it wasn't as there was too much variety!

One of the easier choices though was the oyster. I went straight for the largest - 105mm, which was really huge. I forgot that I had greedily ordered 2 dozen, so when the package arrived with ice-packs and all, I had to struggle for a while, making space in the fridge and making sure every single one of them fit into the chiller.

I bought an oyster knife from pantry magic just for the occasion, did my fair bit of research on the best way to shuck an oyster, then passed on the knowledge AND the oyster knife to my brother to work through all 24 oysters. So that part was easy.

Initially, he took a fair amount of time shucking just one oyster but slowly got the hang of it and managed the rest with little mess. He got increasingly excited the quicker he pried open each oyster, declaring that we had to have an oyster party just for the cousins whom we could picture enjoying every minute shucking the oysters to unveil each glorious jewel.

I had planned for the oysters to be done 4 ways. One was served neat, with nothing but its own creamy juices and the taste of the sea. Two were served with lime granita, that was time consuming but incredibly easy to make and yielded amazing results. I got this idea from Anderson Ho's Menu Degustation and it has officially become my favourite way of eating fresh oysters.

The ultimate for me used to be a Virgin Mary Oyster Shooter (pictured above in foreground) - a combination of tomato juice, tabasco sauce, worcesterchire sauce, lemon juice and salt. But the Kalamansi lime granita was sweet, tangy and tres refreshing. When paired with the plump, creamy oyster, it was a wonderful harmony of flavours and textures.

I decided to have deep-fried oysters as well, even though I'm usually averse to deep-frying, not just because it makes my entire kitchen slippery as hell, but also because it wastes a ton of oil. But I decided I need more diversity and smoking my own oysters would have to be a whole new project for another time. Flipping through The Cook's Book, I spotted a Japanese Beer Batter from Hisayuki Takeuchui, that looked perfect for the job. The recipe was for prawn tempura, but it looked like it could be easily used for oysters too. The batter was simple enough and just needed a Japanese beer, such as Asahi, an egg and a little sifted flour.

My brother, not a big fan of raw oysters, understandably enjoyed this the most. I sprinkled a little of Tetsuya's Truffle Salt that I got from Culina after comtemplating using matcha salt instead. The oysters were cooked just long enough to still be soft under the light and crisp batter. I didn't need to time the deep-frying as once the batter started to brown, the oysters were just about done. It did not shrivel down into miniscule pieces of overcooked oysters encased in a crisp brown shell, and instead remained succulent beneath the fried batter where there was a perceptible presence of fermentation and yeast.

Although you think I would have learnt my lesson by now, after the many dinners I've hosted, I still have plenty of room for improvement when it comes to planning for them. For example, I had not decided what the exact menu would be on the day of the dinner itself. I just knew my fridge was well stocked with exciting ingredients for me to play around with.

One of which was the tinned crabmeat. Okay, I can already hear some of you muttering words of disagreement. How could I even stoop so low as to resort to canned crabmeat? That'd be like saying that canned salmon is as good as the real stuff. But have you ever tried killing your own crab, steaming it and extracting the flesh? It takes too much time, effort and needs more than a pair of hands. Plus, I NEEDED to spend that $150 at GreenGrocer anyway.

When the crab cakes were put together in a flash and left to sit in the fridge until it was ready to be deep-fried and served, I couldn't stop patting myself on the back for the decision well made. The crabmeat may not have been the freshest, but these were decent looking chunks of crab claw meat that were sufficient for the crabcakes.

I referred to Chubby Hubby's recent post on crab cakes, for the recipe by Teage Ezard in Lotus. It was a sound recipe, except I made extra-large ones for each of us and dipped them in flour, egg and panko crumbs before deep-frying for that extra crunch. He was right when he said that they compact and firm like Thai Fishcakes. I would actually prefer something more fluffy and may tweak the recipe a little in future. Still, served with an avocado sauce made from avocado puree, yogurt and lemon juice, the huge crab cakes were very satisfying.

I served the crab cakes with a pair of scallops. One was simply wrapped in bacon before being pan-fried, while the other was seared and placed on a spoonful of homemade onion jam. Scallops are probably the simplest dishes to prepare, easy to perfect with just some careful watching over. Now if only we could get some proper, fresh scallops. A colleague shared with me how she tried fresh scallops at a discreet Japanese eatery at one of the coasts along Australia (Melbourne?) and never looked back.

The last exciting item of the day was the wagyu beef, cubed. When I saw the beautiful marbling I was enthralled and couldn't stop thinking of what to do with it. The fastest way, of course, to find for a recipe involving any random ingredient you have, is to search for it on the internet. For this, I always consult Epicurious not just because it is easy to navigate but also because they have priceless reviews from other users who have tried the recipe before. I can then gauge how much risk I would be taking by using the recipe.

I thought I would take advantage of their cube-shape to make baby kebabs. So the Grilled Steak Kebabs with Orange and Hoisin Glaze from Epicurious really came in handy. I simply replaced the sliced oranges with halved kumquats, and replaced the frozen orange concentrate with some simmered orange juice. The ridiculously simple marinade complemented the deliciously fatty beef cubes and the wonderful meaty smell hung in the air long after dinner. Reminiscing about that smell, I think it's something I actually wouldn't mind having in my home all the time.

My family still talks about THOSE oysters. They were tremendously good and unbelievably reasonable, so much so that we're thinking of getting another batch to share with our relatives for Christmas. And for that, I doubt $150 worth of oysters would be sufficient. My cousins will definitely have a ball of a time shucking their own oysters. The only problem is that they don't deliver on weekends, so if our Christmas gathering falls on a weekend I'm going to have to figure out how to stuff 100 oysters into my tiny fridge and keep them alive for 2 whole days!

Lime Granita

Adapted from Anderson Ho's Menu Degustation

Ingredients

150ml water

75g sugar

150ml Kalamansi Lime Juice

Method

Add sugar to boiling water and stir until sugar dissolves then leave to cool to room temperature.

Add 150ml of sugar syrup to lime juice, stir and pour into a shallow dish (I used a shallow Pyrex glass dish).

Place in freezer, scraping the surface every hour until a homogeneously fluffy consistency is achieved. (Allow at least 3 rounds of fluffing for best results)

Peas In A Pod

2007-11-04T00:50:00.000+08:00

For late night snacks when hunger creeps up and when I know it'll be a while before I can snuggle into my sheets, there are a couple of things I resort to. Yogurt with muesli; milk with cereal; fruit; almond biscuits; trail mix of assorted nuts and dried fruits; spoonfuls of P&J (when I get supremely desperate); unsuspecting packets of chips lying around; weetabix, dry; instant noodles; baked beans straight from the can (I know, I know) etc......

Believe me, it gets worse.

A couple of weeks ago (or more, time passes too quickly when there's plenty of work to do), I had an amazing lunch at Tampopo, a great ramen place within Liang Court, with my colleagues. We then trooped around Meidi-ya for a spot of shopping. We didn't end up with much except for a packet of yummy chocolate wafer snack. However, I had a eureka-moment when we passed by the frozen goods section. D mentioned that she loved Edamame especially as a snack at night.

I don't know why, but I never looked at Edamame that way before. I had packet stashed in my freezer from a Japanese dinner long ago, and we all know that the freezer is this miracle box that's cold and immortalises food, which means that they were/are still perfect for consumption. Edamame had always been a prelude to something better - a cheap sushi feast at Sushi Tei/Sakae Sushi or a luxurious multi-course Japanese dinner that would span a few hours with some great company.

So when I put the kettle on, and a pot over fire, taking my packet of frozen edamame out at 1130pm last night, I was worried that my body, by conditioned reflex, would feel even hungrier and expect something more after that. In my worry, I guess I might have grabbed an additional handful (or two) of edamame to pop into the boiling water.

3 minutes passed, I strained the beans and dunked them into some ice cold water to speed up the chilling period as well as to regain their grass-green beauty. Evidently, they didn't require much time from start to finish. I crumbled a pinch of Maldon Sea Salt all over, being certain that the beans would get a much needed boost from their oceanic friends.

Eventually, I realised my fears were unfounded. The beans were perfect on their own. They popped out easily from their pods and made for a guilt-free yet fulfilling snack. I lounged on my carpet with one of my favourite magazines, with holiday plans flooding my mine with beautiful imagery, enjoying my edamame with Moka running amok around me. For a brief moment, life was really perfect the way it was.

After my hunger was satiated, I rinsed my fingers in the bowl of lime-water and wiped them on my tea-towel, thinking to myself that there really wasn't anything more I could wish for.

2007-11-01T00:09:00.001+08:00

Unfortunately (or not), Halloween is not very popular in Singapore. Other than a handful of themed parties at the more popular clubs and pubs, or a flourish of pumpkins, broomsticks and spider-web decorations at expat-heavy hangouts, the rest of Singapore lives in oblivion to this very fun celebration.

If I had more time, I would have had a Halloween themed party at my place, full of ghoulish treats and carved mini-pumpkins for decoration. It would have been such a blast surfing the net for inspiration.

The next best thing I could do was spent a couple of nights baking cookies to distribute during Halloween. I recently attended J's Cookie Decorating Class at Shermay's and that gave me plenty of confidence to try something on my own. Though these were nowhere as pretty as those I witnessed J making, they were a good start. I generally try to stay away from overly fiddly diddly stuff as I'm not particularly artistic nor nimble. But I could not resist putting what I learnt into practice.

I did spend quite a bit of time baking and decorating these lemon and orange cookies. I'm also casualty to horribly stained fingers as I'm not a particularly neat and careful cookie decorator. I desperately need to get myself some proper hardy disposable piping bags seeing how the makeshift ones I created out of normal plastic bags spontaneously burst a couple of times, spewing burgundy cream all over the cookies.

But all that effort, working way into the wee hours of the morning, was worth it when I went around the office the next day distributing the cookies to unsuspecting colleagues. Some even questioned when Halloween was, or whether those odd looking things were edible!

I really wished everyone would get into the mood and allow Halloween costumes for work, trick or treating each other's division. That would be amazing fun, but it'd probably take a million ghoul years to realise (read: never).

Almost Quarter of a Century later...

2007-10-29T00:19:00.000+08:00

It is no secret that I am biased towards non-local/Asian food, whether I am thinking about what to cook, or which restaurant to visit. I have to qualify that when it comes to eating out, this bias only applies to those days when the wallet is a little fatter and a special occasion warrants a generous palate-pampering. This is typically because GREAT Asian/local food is available in such abundance, at reasonably high quality, and at ridiculously low prices at some nearby coffeeshop or hawker centre. Paying premium prices for something I can get at a fraction of the price at a similar, if not better, standard is just not logical.

However, last night was an exceptional night in all senses of the word. To celebrate a MOMENTOUS occasion almost a quarter of a century earlier, my family wanted to go out for a good meal with my grandma. By that, of course, I really mean that I wanted to go out for a good meal with my family and my grandma.

While my grandma is generally appreciative of a variety of cuisines, I know that she truly enjoys Chinese food the most. As I wanted to make sure that she enjoyed the night as much as I was going to, I chose a contemporary chinese restaurant - New Majestic Restaurant - to celebrate the Momentous Occasion.

I ate there a couple of months back with some university friends and remember the meal with such fond memories, not just because of the laughter all around the table, but also because of the extremely delectable spread. Returning this time, I was certainly not let down. The meal lived up to my expectations, which we all know somehow escalates overtime, and impressed my entire family.

Once we arrived, I ordered their signature appetiser platter - soft-shell crab, crab omelette, wasabi prawns with a mango salsa of sorts and crispy pork belly- while pondering over the other dishes. They were all flavourful and contrasting in texture. My favourite was the wasabi prawns , which is pretty common in most contemporary chinese restaurants, but I've always had a soft spot for perfect, fresh, crystal prawns.

We ordered a couple of other dishes as well, most of which did not look good in front of the lens, but all of which tasted like heaven. The Roast Chicken with Five Spice Salt (pictured above) was recommended by the waiter, in place of the other wasabi chicken dish I initially planned to order, as he was afraid we'd turn green from overdosing on wasabi. It had everything you would expect of a good roast chicken, crisp skin and tender chicken. Even the chicken breast was not spared.

Cubed beef tenderloin in black pepper sauce impressed my grandma very much, to the extent that she started trying to concoct the recipe in her head with her eyes closed and a furrow between her brows. When the poached amaranth with three eggs (century, salted, chicken) arrived, it was a great interlude from all the rich dishes. The homemade tofu was equally, if not more impressive as it was incredibly silky, almost like soya beancurd deep-fried and drenched in a deliciously savoury sauce.

We had wok-fried mee sua which had plenty of wok hei, and which my mum and grandma were thoroughly amazed by because handling a noodle as delicate as mee sua is highly challenging. It's fine if it is merely dumped in doup, but when it has to be fried, to keep it from sticking to the wok or breaking into little pieces, surely requires more than just a wok, a ladle and a very big flame.

What I did not order again in this second visit, but which I wish I had the appetite to accomodate, was the Chai Tow Kuay aka Carrot Cake (Chinese-style). In hawker centres, these are served with small cubes of the rice cake fried with garlic, egg and seasoning. At New Majestic Restaurant, they added some crunchy beansprouts and spring onion, and served it with big, juicy cubes of rice cake. Before I tried it, I thought it would be overwhelmingly heavy and would cause the dish to become a little bland since the whole mouth would essentially filled with nothing but rice cake. It was however, and very surprisingly so, utterly tasty throughout - from bite to swallow.

Dessert was a must of course, and while I had tried many of their fancier desserts like Homemade Sorbet with Aloe Vera and Grass Jelly, or Fried Durian Ice Cream, what left the greatest impression on me was the Red Bean Pancake. It effectively raised my expectations of all other red bean pancakes henceforth. It is not enough to be crisp, with a suitably sweet and smooth red bean paste, it also has to be almost feather-like, providing only the slightest resistance between the teeth before it snaps into two fragile parts.

Dinner was truly a delight, and my dad was more than happy with their service, which really says alot since he is very particular about it everywhere we go. It was however, a little surreal that I was celebrating my 23rd birthday already. Not long ago, I was merely 16 years old, celebrating my birthday with my girlfriends at a foodcourt, right after the Chinese 'O' level paper. They serenaded me in the herb garden right outside the school. They concocted a potent cocktail of tabasco sauce, pepper, faux grated parmesan and whatever they could lay their hands on, for me to consume because well, it was just one of those wild things we did. They were such gems and such joy.

I remember thinking about where I'd be at 23, and decided that I would want to get married at 23, 2 years after graduation and just enough time to accrue a tidy sum of savings. At 25, I would have my first child, and my second would come at 27. My husband and I would then live happily ever after.

Now, in a blink of the eye, 7 years have passed?! I still keep in contact with those girls of course, and they are still such gems and joy. But the 'M' concept is getting increasingly elusive, and the thought of having children in two years time is more frightening than Halloween, so I'm thankful it'll definitely be a(long)while till then.

But 7 years have passed indeed, and it really scares me that I'll be 24 soon, then soon enough I'll really be a quarter of a century old. Before I know it, I'll be middle-aged, middle-income, and middle-heavy!

Food for thought

2007-10-24T01:00:00.000+08:00

I believe we all have a little (or big) nook in our hearts for certain special things or persons. It could be the strum of the guitar that instantly tugs at your heartstrings. For some of my friends, it is the sighting of an old camera that makes their hearts skip a beat. As for me, it is no secret that the sounds of sizzling garlic or bubbling stew are what make my toes shudder with excitement.

But what makes my heart turn to absolute mush is well... a heart. A heart for people OTHER than yourself, your family and your friends. I think most of us could afford giving a little more back to community, helping those who truly need help. For some this could mean volunteering. For others it could mean raising funds and donating it all to the needy. For a couple of people, they chose to make this a part of their work.

And that. Makes my heart turn into total, complete, mush.

"FOOD FOR THOUGHT is a quirky little indie diner where you can get great comfort food at a fair price, have fascinating conversations, find new friends and discover simple ways to give back to the local and global community."

Part of their profits go to School of Thought's Financial Aid Scheme for underprivileged students, and there is the option to donate to international well-building projects instead so that other people may have free water someday as well.

The best part about them? They not only try as far as possible, to work with local farmers, they also support local baking talents who've never had the opportunity to put their products of love OUT THERE.

Food there is simple. A wide array of sandwiches, a choice of 2 soups and a couple of salads. That brings about a gazillion permutations of possible meal options. Add to that a range of drinks, of which I enjoyed their Lychee and Sage Freeze as well as Watermelon and Mint Freeze, and an ever-growing repertoire of desserts (some endearingly named after their creator) and an extremely fulfilling meal awaits.

While a part of me has been drawn to the place because of the social cause, a major part of me went back to Food For Thought about say... a thousand times in the past 2 months, because of the food. Sandwiches come with freshly baked foccacia bread and the spicy pork belly and slow-roasted pulled pork are my regular orders when I do get a sandwich. If the Chinese Chicken Caesar Salad doesn't sound interesting enough, wait till you find out it comes with some pretty cool egg. The Shitake Mushroom soup is a mainstay in the soup menu, but is joined by other worthy partners such as Pumpkin and Sage.

As for desserts, Mississippi Mud Pie was highly recommended by both chefs - David and Peter, but I managed to wrangle out of their very generous hearts a secret stash of Durian Mousse Cake they had not even displayed. I'm not sure if it is on their regular menu, but I have made sure they know that they would have a very pesky customer on their hands asking for THAT Durian Mousse Cake everytime she visits.

All that good food is very reasonably priced, making me more than happy to recommend this place to friends, visit this place so often that they now greet me with 'Welcome Back!', and part with a little more money for international well-building projects. Let's all help others get easier access to quality academic help, and of course water!

Food For Thought
420 North Bridge Road
North Bridge Centre
#01-06
Singapore 188727

For event bookings, lunch/dinner bookings, takeaway orders and catering requests:
Please call
+65 6338 8724
or email
mailto:eat@foodforthought.com.sg?subject=Enquiry

My Monthly Fix

2007-10-16T18:43:00.000+08:00

Every month, I religiously head to Kino for my dose of food related magazines. For a very disturbing digression, on one of those trips I spotted a guy in his late thirties or early forties sitting on the floor, with a soft porn magazine open on his lap. Sure, I'm all for free speech and human rights, and whatever men like to do in their own little private space. Lets not even go there.

Bring it out into the open, er... SURE. But to sit there, with a camera phone in hand, snapping photos of the bikini clad, busty model with barbie-type big hair featured in the magazine, now that's just plain disturbing.

Anyway! Fortunately or unfortunately, I head to Kino pretty often to grab a couple of magazines. I'm a terrible sucker for handsome steaks or sexy pies. Throw in some adorable mini scoops of caramel ice cream and I'm sold. A couple of magazines have entrapped my mind and heart. Donna Hay is one of them. The gorgeous photos, reader-friendly layout and useful tips on cooking make the magazine a mainstay in my repertoire of magazines to grab regularly.

Sadly though, their recipes and tips have been grossly used and consulted. And with that realisation, I stacked up my D.H. mags and trawled through, considering a possible menu to provide for some friends. As I was catching a matinee, I only had a couple of hours to prepare the meal and had to (again) look for something uncomplicated.

There were way too many choices, and after much mulling over, I chose to start the meal off with caramelised mushrooms to top off a thinly sliced baguette, smeared generously with cheese (I chose my childhood fav, Laughing Cow Cheese) and scattered with wild rocket leaves. This was such a convenient dish to prepare way before hand, to get out of the way and out of the mind while preparing the other courses. I just had to simmer it for a while, allowing it to cool naturally until it is ready to serve. Although the original recipe asked for goat's cheese, my uncontrollable aversion to goat's cheese led to my substitution, which I thoroughly enjoyed anyway.

Following that, we had salmon gently poached in tomato broth, frugally garnished with dill. Convenient point number 2: the broth is prepared before hand and the salmon poached for just 8-9 minutes for the middle to remain that slightly darker shade of pink. Of course, that means that the salmon should be sliced into individual portions first before poaching.

With some careful timing and prep work, some stew and risotto was served after that. The lamb was stewed with an entire bottle of red wine and the aromatic rosemary, while the risotto was plain and spiked with just a mere hint of thyme.

One thing I've learnt however, after so many attempts to recreate dishes featured in magazines or in cookbooks, is that they almost always never turn out the way it looks like in the photos. My fish broth looked far too red, making me alarmed by the disparity of colour. I re-read the recipe over and over again to make sure I wasn't adding the tomato puree to the broth erroneously. Was it 1 tsp, and not 1 tbspn? Was my tomato puree unusually red?

So yes, I've learnt (the hard way) to accept that I might never be able to make such perfect looking steaks or pies. But when you have friends like mine who mostly don't notice if the carrot sticks were not julienned properly or if the frosting on the cake is slightly uneven, it is easier to let go. Just walk away from the cake Daffy, just walk away from the cake.