Wing Beans – Adding Zing to Greens

I was introduced to wing beans late in life. I remember it pretty well – it was an office lunch, a potluck, and one of my Malay colleagues contributed an interesting Asian salad.  Its sauce was fairly typical: prawn paste (hei go), crushed peanut, assam juice, and chili sambal; quite similar to rojak. But the combination of greens was intriguing. There was turnip, pineapple, ginger flower, guava, snake fruit, and of course, wing beans.

Just like aragula, wing beans contribute a surprising, refreshing “green” taste, and a hint of bitterness. Wing beans basically add depths of sweetness and a hint of "rawness" to any veggy cocktail, and because of that, I fell in love with it. Nowadays I like wing beans however it’s done -- in salads or simply fried with belachan.

When a Hong Kong newspaper asked me for a Singapore recipe for their Singapore supplement, I contributed the one below without hesitation.

Wing Bean Salad

Wing bean                             1 cup

Long bean                              ½ cup, blanched in hot water

Cucumber                              ¼ cup, cubed

Red chili                                  2, sliced thickly

Onion                                      ½, sliced thickly

Garnishing:

Fried shallots                      2 tbsp   

Dried shrimps                     2 tbsp, soaked and deep fried

Coriander                             1 sprig, sliced

Salad Sauce (mixed thoroughly):

Sriracha                                  3 tbsp

Tomato                                  1 tbsp

Peanut oil                              ¼ cup

Calamansi juice                   1 tbsp

Sugar                                       ½ tbsp

Salt                                           ¼ tsp

White pepper                      ¼ tsp

Durian                                    3 seeds, deseeded

Calamansi                             2, juiced

Sugar                                      1/3 tbsp

Salt                                          a pinch

Method

1.              Assemble all ingredients in a mixing bowl.

2.              Pour salad sauce slowly and toss with the ingredients until it is sufficiently wet.

3.              Spoon the salad in a serving bowl and top with the garnishings.

Shanghai – A Chinese Movable Feast

My first visit to China was in 1990. It was to Shanghai for a magazine shoot for a leading French fashion house. We chose Shanghai as the backdrop because of its retro grandeur in architecture, its atmosphere of a bygone yet cosmopolitan era, and, most importantly, for the pulse of an awakening giant city after slumbering for decades. 

Though I was a stranger to the city, its cuisine was familiar, like an old friend. I was raised eating Shanghainese food on occasion, and the smells and tastes of Shanghainese food meant “home” to me.

Like Singapore, the majority of Shanghai’s population is descended from immigrants, mostly from nearby provinces such as Jiangsu and Zhejiang. During the Ching dynasty more than 300 years years ago, Shanghai was a major port city where east met west. As a result, every bite of Shanghainese cuisine today embodies a conglomeration of cultures and flavors from all over the world.

The distinct taste of Shanghai food arises from its strong use of wine, vinegar, sugar, and soy sauce, as well as freshwater produce. And a Shanghainese meal ---even a casual one – would feature an awe-inspiring variety of starters, along with delicate portions of main courses.

During my growing up years, nutritional supplements were unheard of. If an elder wished to shower affection on a young one, an egg was normally given. Eggs were expensive then, and it was known that they contained nutrients enough to nourish and bring a chick to full development in it. The egg could be cooked in various ways and served anytime of day.

This recipe is very likely of Shanghainese origin, because of its use of fermented rice paste. The poached egg reminds me of Western cooking and it might well have come from the French Concessions in Shanghai. Fermented rice is a staple of Shanghainese food; almost every family has its own formula for making it. Apart from this recipe, fermented rice is also widely used in other dishes and desserts.

I’ll be sharing more of my experiences and memories of Shanghai, through the lens of food, at my cooking class this Friday at Shermay’s Cooking School.

Poached Egg with Fermented Rice Brine

Water                                                200 ml

Rock sugar                                        50 g

Fermented rice brine (酒釀)          60 g

Dried osmanthus flower                 ½ tbsp (optional)

Eggs                                                    2

Water                                                 1 litre

Vinegar                                              1 tbsp

Method:

1. Boil water and rock sugar until the sugar has fully melted. Adjust the taste with more sugar if necessary.
2. Add fermented rice into the syrup and turn off the heat immediately.
3. Scoop the syrup into a bowl with the poached egg in it.
4. Sprinkle dried osmanthus flower and serve.

Poached Egg:

1. In another wide shallow saucepan, boil 1 litre of water to around 80°C. Add vinegar and swirl the water with a spoon.  
2. Drop one egg into the centre of the saucepan while the water is still swirling. Using a spoon, gently nudge the egg white closer to the yolk. Cover the saucepan with a lid and turn off the heat.
3. Poach for 3 minutes and remove the egg with a slotted spoon.
4. Place the egg in serving bowl.

Note:   This coming Friday, 5 Oct 2012, I will be sharing some of my favourite recipes at Shermay’s Cooking School. If you are interested, please refer to this.

Where the Oyster Plant Once Grew

The spot in Chinatown where the Kreta Ayer Theatre stands used to be a grass-covered hilltop with a park. I remember roaming that hilltop to play on its swings and seesaw, hunt grasshoppers, and scrounge for earthworms – there was so much for a 6-year-old to do in that little park! The time was the 1960s.

Also on the hill was a community center that housed one of the few televisions in the neighborhood; the young and old were drawn to that TV like moths to a flame every night. There was also a crèche where working parents would leave their kids during the day. When evening fell, old folks would gather in the park to enjoy the breeze.

I remember an old storyteller, who would sit with a kerosene lamp and narrate tales in Cantonese from classics such as The Three Kingdoms and Journey to the West. For a small fee, you could rent a tiny stool from him on which to listen. During intervals in the story, he would wind his way through the crowd holding a milk can. Clink! clink! -- in went the small change. He was probably the first busker Singapore ever had!

During the Hungry Ghosts festivities that occupied the Chinese 7^th lunar month, huge wood-and-canvas tents would rise on the hill. Beneath these tents you’d come face-to-face with colorful paper effigies of Chinese deities that stood as tall as 4 meters or more. They would be accompanied by joss sticks, just as tall, and shaped like gargantuan firecrackers with small figurines on wires studded on its surface. As a kid I would surreptitiously pry these figurines loose when no one was watching, and bring them home to play and to display.

Some tents were built to stage grand Cantonese operas. In those days it was common to have famous opera artistes specially brought in from Hong Kong to perform. It was believed these performances would provide entertainment for the dead; but the living seemed to benefit more. There would be proper seating for members of the sponsoring clan or association and its guests, but scores of other folks from the neighborhood would bring their “unofficial” seats – stools, benches, and even wooden crates -- and plant them permanently on the ground for the duration of the sometimes weeks-long theater.

In time the opera performances were no longer limited to the 7^th lunar month; the tent became a permanent stage, and later still a theater was built.

There was a patch of hillside where the flower, rhoeo discolor, (common name: oyster plant) grew abundantly. I used to harvest these flowers to bring home to dry in the shade for a couple of days. I would boil them with rock sugar and winter melon candies. Folks believed the flower was good for the throat and helped reduce thirst, but I loved them simply for their unique flavor. Sometimes, I used them as base for agar agar and jello; however, the oyster plant is hard to find in the market. You might occasionally find the leaves of the plant but its flowers are virtually non-existent, so you might need to grow them yourself.

Much has changed to the hill and its park. The low-rise buildings that surrounded it have been replaced with the present HDB blocks; the hill has been all but flattened, and today you wouldn’t even think that a hill once stood there.

Rhoeo Discolor Drink

Rhoeo Discolor                                 120 g

Water                                                 2.5 litres

Winter melon Candies                     100 g

Honey Rock Sugar                            100 g  

It is commonly known as 蚌花 in Chinese

Method:

1. Boil the leaves, melon candies, and water for 1½ hours.
2. Add honey rock sugar and adjust according to taste.
3. Serve it hot or cold.