Por Kee – A Name That Had Run Its Course

Por Kee Eating House closed its shutters for the last time on 30 September 2013.

That brought to an end another chapter of my childhood. I will miss it much, not so much for its food which was very pedestrian in its early years, but because I had patronized the eatery since the 60s.

The Chinatown that I remember from back then was abuzz with activity. Smith Street -- on which Por Kee was first located -- was a street market by day and sold all manner of exotic animals. Yes, in those days, pythons, monitor lizards, civet cats, and anteaters were displayed in cages and slaughtered live just like chickens and ducks. By night Smith Street was lined with food stalls, many well known even then, and some of which have survived until today, such as Heng Ji Chicken Rice, Run Ji Braised Duck, Tong Heng Confectionery and etc.

Por Kee occupied the ground floor of a two-unit shop house at No. 76 Smith Street. On the street in front of the shop sat a long aluminium table, above which hung a variety of roast meat. On the tabletop were metal trays displaying fried spring rolls, carrot cakes and buns. There was also a row of huge pots that contained cooked food such as braised pork, steamed chicken, and steamed ribs. These constituted the “one-dish” meals popular with working men who lived without families.

As Por Kee’s premises were at the building corner, a side lane ran next to it, and at its the mouth were placed steamers holding bamboo baskets stacked high with dim sum. There were additional tables along the side lane where patrons could sit and watch rats scamper past.

For me, Por Kee became a favourite place to grab a quick snack of fried spring roll or siew mai before heading off to meet friends. I remember in particular a one-dish meal unique to Por Kee called “smooth chicken rice” or “滑鸡饭”.  From its inception Por Kee was never known for the tastiness of its food, but as a convenient and affordable stop to grab a bite to fill the stomach before heading off somewhere.

Still, it was a pity that the final night of this half-century-old eating establishment should end with such disappointment for me. I had seen first-hand the ups and downs of their business over the years. And after eating there on their “farewell” night, I understood why they failed to grow or keep up with the competition. Their attitude was abysmal. One incident from many that night should suffice: when I mildly rebuked the waitress for the inexcusably poor fried rice that we were served, she snorted, “You complain now also no use, we last day already.”

I went away from the dinner with a heavy heart and actually felt glad that they had gone at last.

“Smooth” Chicken Rice

Chicken chop                         4

Chicken stock                         ½ cup

Salt                                          ¼ tsp

Corn flour                               1 tbsp, mixed with 2 tbsp of water

Cooked rice                            12 cups

Chye sim                                 50 gm, blanched

White pepper                         a dash

Marinate:

Ginger juice                            2 tbsp

Oyster sauce                          2 tbsp

Soy sauce                               ¼ tsp

Chinese wine                          1 tbsp

Sugar                                       ¼ tsp

Method:

1. Marinate chicken chops for 30 minutes.
2. Steam chicken until cooked.
3. Divide rice into 4 portions. Slice chicken chops and distribute evenly into 4 portions. Place chicken and chye sim on top of the rice.
4. Pour steamed chicken juice in a small pot. Add chicken stock and stir thoroughly. Simmer and season with salt.
5. Thicken gravy with corn starch.
6. Pour over the chicken and sprinkle with pepper.
7. Serve hot.

The Jumping Table – The Quintessential Malay Feast

It was only after I had lived a few years away from Singapore, that I truly appreciated having grown up in its famously multi-racial milieu. For one, Singapore has bred in me an ethnic tolerance and appreciation that I’ve come to take for granted; for another, it’s given me an omnivorous palate, and taught me the pleasures of indulging in as wide a range of cuisines as possible.

Whenever I get invited to a traditional celebration by a Malay or Indian friend, I see it as a special treat – especially when it involves food.

For me, nothing evokes the Malay love for family, friends and food, and a good time, like the ‘kenduri’. The Malay wedding features the quintessential -- and one of the most common – forms of kenduri. Who hasn’t encountered one in an HDB void deck; seen the ‘ma-chiks’ huddled together and busy with the food preparation; or smelled the delicious aromas wafting up to the upper floors, and heard the music and merrymaking?

Kenduri (pronounced ken-doo-ree) is Malay for ‘feast’. A kenduri is joyous, age-old, and versatile. Kenduris are organized to celebrate everything from weddings, circumcisions and birthdays, to anniversaries, ‘graduations’ from religious or silat (martial art) studies, festivals like Hari Raya, and even first-time pregnancies and the first haircut of a 40-day-old infant. Seems anything is fair excuse for a kenduri. And why not?

Kenduris bring people together in a riot of communal good spirits. Everybody chips in: grandmas to five-year-olds help in cooking, decorating, serving, and running errands, all in the spirit of ‘gotong royong’ (or cooperation). And everyone – guests and all – always has a fun time.

Missing the flavors of the kenduri spread that I grew up eating and loving, I approached one of my favorite chefs recently.

Bubbly and big-spirited Chef Arni used to run a well-known eatery with her husband -- Arni & Yusof -- at Far East Plaza on Scotts Road. The Arni & Yusof kitchen was originally helmed by Arni’s mother, from whom she learned the ropes and succeeded several years ago. I’ve been a patron of the stall for more than 12 years until they closed for good a few months ago. The feast that Arni prepared for my friends and I was replete with the traditional dishes and desserts of the kenduri, including mutton, nasi brani, chicken, pacheri, and in particular, kek kukus, a rarely seen caramelized cake.

A Wedding Kenduri

23 March 2013

Nasi Brani Dum

Kambing Masak Rempah Brani

Mutton in Brani Paste

Rendang Lembu

Beef Rendang

Ayam Masak Merah

Chicken in Chili and Tomato Paste

Sotong Masak Hitam

Squid in Black Ink

What got me hooked on Arni & Yusof in the first place -- sotong masak hitam for more than 12 years.

  

Udang Sambal

Sambal Prawn

Vegetables

Dalcha  / Pacheri  / Achar

Mixed Vegetable Curry with Lentils/Spicy Cooked Pineapple/Cucumber Pickle

Desserts

Kek Kukus / Bubur Kacang / Pisang

Steamed Caramelized Cake/Green Bean Dessert Porridge/Banana

All photos by Mark Ong

Chicken Rice -- You say Cantonese, I say Hainanese

Chicken was a luxury in the 1960s. At a time when a bowl of mee pok tah was all of just 20 cents, the 70-cent cost of a plate of chicken rice was princely. And no surprise then, that chicken drumstick was a special treat reserved for birthdays. Therefore choosing the right chicken rice stall on which to ‘splurge’ one’s hard-earned cash truly mattered!

My gold standard, back then, for chicken rice was a stall parked inside Great Wall Kopitiam along Keong Saik Street, where the popular porridge stall, Tiong Shian Porridge Centre, now stands. Run by two young guys, their Cantonese-style chicken and rice were the best: the meat succulent and cooked just right, leaving the marrow still pinkish; and the rice and chili sauce good enough to wolf down on their own.

My amah never failed to remind me (and everyone else!) of an incident. The 70-cent portion was served on a single plate – sliced chicken on a mound of rice -- just like today. The $1.50 ‘deluxe’ set would get you a plate of rice, with much more chicken on a separate plate. However, spoiled and broke as I was, I insisted on having the ‘deluxe’  style -- but at 70 cents. The stall owner naturally refused; whereupon I threw such a big tantrum that he relented. Being all of ten years old at the time, I got away with it!

These days, most diners, and even stallholders themselves, often confuse the Hainanese for Cantonese chicken rice. Signboards or menus say ‘Hainanese’ but what you actually get is Cantonese. The difference? The Hainanese do not soak their chicken in icy cold water after boiling it, hence there is no jelly-like layer of gelatin developing just beneath the skin.

The chicken is soaked in room-temperature water for 30 minutes or so, then dripped dry and placed on a tray, covered with a piece of towel. The Cantonese, on the other hand, plunge the chicken in icy water then hang it to drip dry, leaving theirs with the thin gelatinous layer below the skin.

Cooking chicken and its rice is simple. Everyone seems to have his or her own little trick for a good version; here’s mine.

Hainanese Chicken Rice

Chicken                      1

Ginger juice                2 tbsp

Chinese wine              1 tbsp

Salt                              3 tbsp

Spring onion               2 stalks

Ginger                         3 slices, thickly sliced

Pandan leaves             1 stalk, bruised

Water                          7 litres

Chicken stock             2 litres

Oil                               2 tbsp

Rice:

Rice                             3 cups

Chicken stock             3 cups

Ginger                         2 slices, thickly sliced

Pandan leaves             4, bruised

Salt                              1½ tsp

Chicken oil                  4 tbsp

Chili Sauce:

Red chili                      5, minced

Chili padi                     2, minced

Ginger                         4 mm, bashed and minced

Garlic                           5 cloves, bashed and minced

Calamansi juice           5 tbsp

Chicken broth             3 tbsp

Salt                              ½ tsp

Sugar                           1 tbsp

Method:

1. Marinate chicken with ginger juice and Chinese wine for 30 minutes. Rinse and drain.
2. Boil a pot of water (2 litres) and chicken stock. Add spring onion (1 stalk), 2 slices of ginger, pandan leaves, and boil for 5 minutes in high heat. Add 1 tbsp of salt and turn off the heat. Let it rest and cool to room temperature. This is to ‘cool’ the chicken immediately after being boiled.
3. Boil another pot of water (5 litres) with the remaining spring onion and ginger. Add 2 tbsp of salt. Holding chicken by the neck, plunge it into the boiling water. When the water starts to boil, remove the chicken. Wait for the water to boil rapidly again, then plunge the chicken in and repeat the step two more times. On the third plunge, leave the chicken submerged in the water. Let the water boil for 1 minute. Cover with lid and turn off the heat. Leave the chicken for 40 minutes.
4. Remove the chicken and plunge it into the pot of room-temperature chicken stock and leave it submerged for 30 minutes.
5. Remove chicken, drain and lay flat on a plate, cover with a wet towel until it is ready to be chopped and served.

Chicken Rice:

1. Wash and drain rice in a colander for 30 minutes.
2. Saute ginger with 1 tbsp of oil until it turns slightly brown. Add chicken stock and boil.
3. Add rice and pandan leaves to boiling stock. Boil until the water subsides to the level of the rice.
4. Lower the heat and simmer for 15 minutes.
5. Add the remaining oil, salt, and stir thoroughly, continue to simmer for another 10 minutes.
6. Mix the rice thoroughly again. Close the lid and turn off the heat.
7. Let it rest for another 5 to 10 minutes before serving.

Chili Sauce:

1. Mince chilies and ginger finely.
2. Add the rest of the ingredients and mix well.
3. The sauce should be sour and a tad sweet.