A Soldier’s Tale -- Sichuan Vegetable Soup

I’ll make no bones about it: National Service was kick-ass tough. Oftentimes you prayed you were somewhere else…or dead. But today, with 30 years’ hindsight, and perverse as it may seem, I think I enjoyed my stint.

For those unfamiliar with the term, National Service – or ‘NS’ as it’s known – is mandatory conscription in the armed forces -- usually the Army – that every young Singaporean man is subject to. Many other countries have similar laws, like Israel and Taiwan; Singaporeans undergo a 2 or 2½-year stint, depending on one’s academic qualifications.

The first 3 months, in which you were rudely transitioned from civilian to military life, and whipped from raw recruit to passable soldier, were, as you could imagine, hell on earth. In the strange new environment of the army camp, each one of us was pushed to our physical and psychological limits. Discipline, regimentation, and arduous physical training were used to demolish egos and enforce conformity. We wore the same uniform, ate the same food, slept in the same barracks. Very quickly, we learned to think not as an individual, but as a group, a military unit. A unit in which every member relied on, and trusted, one another.

On the battlefield, your life was in the hands of the man beside you, and his in yours. That was one of the lessons the army taught me, which has stayed with me for life.

I also took away some good friends, who I still keep in touch with today; and this has made my time in NS seem that much more rewarding. However, the story I most want to share with you today is about the army food – which used to send chills through me, and my army mates.

In those days, camp food was prepared by young soldiers serving NS just like the rest of us. These ‘cooks’ were equipped by the army with some rudimentary cooking skills, but not much else in the way of running a kitchen. And it showed, through over-done vegetables, over-steamed fish, and half-cooked rice. My mates would usually push the limp, discolored veggies aside, or on to my plate. And being the glutton I was, I lapped it up – over-cooked or not!

I especially looked forward to Saturday lunch, when the cookhouse served a particular dish every one hated, except me -- instant noodles cooked in anchovy stock. Invariably, the noodles would have been left sitting in the pot for quite a while, and be sodden. As Saturday afternoon was also the start of the weekend furlough, my mates would be more intent on leaving the camp than staying for the bloated noodles. Not I. I’d dutifully troop to the cookhouse, scoop out as much as I could finish, and savor every bite. My mates would always shake their heads in disbelief that anyone could possibly enjoy such #%@!  But I honestly did; I still think of these noodles sometimes, and miss them.

Another dish I got to know and love during NS was a soup -- preserved Sichuan vegetable soup with pork. It was spicy, slightly sour, and oh-so appetizing, and always brought back memories of my days in the army.

Preserved Sichuan Vegetable and Pork Soup

Preserved Sichuan Vegetable  :   80 g, soaked with water, drained and sliced thinly

Pork                                          :   220 g, sliced thinly

Soy sauce                                 :   1 tsp

Pepper                                      :   ¼ tsp

Corn flour                                 :   1 tsp

Ginger                                       :   1 cm, bashed

Stock                                         :   1 litre

Salt                                            :   ¼ tsp

Pepper                                      :   a dash

Method:

1. Wash preserved Sichuan vegetable thoroughly, and soak in water for 30 minutes. Drain and slice thinly.
2. Marinate pork with soy sauce, pepper and corn flour. Set aside.
3. Boil stock and preserved Sichuan vegetable for 10 minutes.
4. Add pork and simmer for another 5 minutes.
5. Season with salt and pepper. Serve hot.

The Bake Bug Bites…Gula Melaka Cupcake

Honestly speaking, I don’t really enjoy baking.

Why? Because baking requires too much discipline and precision: ingredients and measurements need to be followed to the T; baking times and processes stringently kept to. It’s simply not me.

Yet, I love cakes and pastries; and am terrified that one day some of these recipes would be lost forever. So, true to my ‘kiasu’ nature, I’ve always tried to collect recipes that I love, and learn at least some basic baking skills in case I ever needed them in the future. Over the years my collection of recipes has grown to hundreds, and they all hide somewhere among my bookshelves.

When the bake bug bites on a rare occasion like this, I’d still rather create something according to whim and fancy, than raid my horde of recipes. So here goes…and I hope you like it!

Gula Melaka Cupcake with Grated Coconut Icing

Butter                         115 g

Gula Melaka             150 g

Caster sugar             50 g

Eggs                             2 large

AP flour                      190 g

Baking powder         8 g

Coconut milk             100 ml

Pandan juice              20 ml

Grated coconut         200 g, mixed with 3 tbsp of pandan juice

Frosting

Butter                           75 g

Salt                                ¼ tsp

Icing sugar                  440 g

Coconut milk             3 tbsp

Pandan juice             1 tbsp

Method:

1.     Preheat oven at 175°C.

2.     Cream butter and sugar for 8 minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, and beat for another 5 minutes.

3.     Add AP flour and baking powder and mix well, about 8 minutes.

4.     Add coconut milk and pandan juice and mix until the batter is smooth.

5.     Divide the mixture into 8 cupcake moulds and bake for 20 – 25 minutes.

6.     Cool the cakes before applying the frosting. Decorate with grated coconut.

Frosting:

7.     Cream butter and salt until light and fluffy.

8.     Add icing sugar gradually, beating well at each addition.

9.     Add coconut milk and pandan juice and beat until spreading consistency is reached.

Note: Steam grated coconut for 5 minutes. Let it cool. This will prevent the grated coconut from turning bad easily.

Beef Rendang Burger – Less Fast & No Fuss

I remember the 70s as the decade Western pop culture swept into Singapore like a monster tsunami. Education standards had been on a continual rise, and English was being taught in schools as our national lingua franca. This made western movies, music, and television ever more comprehensible -- and alluring. And Singaporeans lapped up all things western; and, in particular, Americana.

And what could be more Americana than fast food? Burgers and fries became hip and chic. Who could resist stopping for a Coney Dog and a Root Beer Float at A&W whenever you were around the Cathay Cinema at Selegie?

Remember the buzz when McDonald’s opened its very first restaurant at Liat Towers in Orchard Road? and the ‘McDonald Kids’? -- teens too young to enter the discotheque, who instead congregated at this particular outlet on weekends, dressed in the latest fashions and hairstyles. To me, McDonalds always meant great-tasting fries, great breakfast meals, and unforgettable TV commercials!

Kentucky Fried Chicken, on the other hand, always reminded me of my NS days when it became almost a staple, due to the presence of an outlet near my army camp. I remember gathering there for quick bites and ‘talk cock’ sessions with my army buddies before checking in, or for celebrations of any kind.

Burger King won me over because of its purportedly healthier ‘flame broiled’ burgers. Clever marketing ploy or not, it worked on me; and even today, Burger King is still my first choice in fast food, more so during the time I spent in Hangzhou. Other chains have come and gone, like Church’s Texas Fried Chicken and Milano’s Pizza, while a few seemed to have enjoyed a comeback, such as Wendy’s.

In the last few years, burgers have burgeoned in Singapore, becoming once again an ‘it’ food trend, with options ranging from ‘gourmet’ wagyu beef burgers to the startups of young entrepreneur-chefs creating their own formulas replete with injections of local flavors and ingredients. Taking a page from these guys, I humbly offer for your delectation my very own Beef Rendang Burger with Begedil.

Beef Rendang Burger – serves 4

Beef                            450, minced

Corn flour                   2 tbsp

Sriracha sauce            2 tbsp

Salt                              1 tsp

Marinate:

Oil                               2 tbsp

Onion                         1 large, chopped

Salt                              ½ tsp

Brown sugar              1 tbsp

Garlic                          2 cloves, minced

Red chilies                  2, minced

Lemon grass              1, white part only and minced

Galangal powder      ⅛ tsp

Five-spice powder       ½ tsp

Grated coconut         ⅓ cup

Method:

1. Mix marinate, beef, corn flour and Sriracha sauce until well blended.
2. Split beef mixture into 4 patties.
3. Heat a little butter in a non-stick pan and fry meat patties about 5 minutes on each side.
4. Toast buns, spread butter and Sriracha sauce (optional), and place the meat patty on top of the bread. Add onion and tomato before serving.
5. Add begedil, papadams, sunny-side up and salad  as side dishes.

Marinate:

1. Sweat onion under medium heat until it turns transparent. Add garlic, red chili and lemon grass, and continue to fry for another 1 minute.
2. Add spices and grated coconut, fry until the paste turns slightly oily and fragrant.
3. Drain Oil and keep aside to cool.

Begedil

Potato                         ½ kg, boiled, peeled and mashed

Onion                          ¼, chopped

Garlic                           2, minced

Chili powder               1 tbsp

Salt                              1 tsp

Pepper                        ½ tsp

Cilantro                       10 stalks, chopped

Egg                             1, lightly beaten

Method:

1.   Sweat onion and garlic until onion turns transparent.

2.   Add chili powder and mashed potato. Mix well.

3.   Season with salt and pepper.

4.   Add chopped cilantro and split mixture into 4 potato patties.

5.   Dip potato patty into egg mixture and deep fry until it turns golden brown.

6.   Drain thoroughly and serve with the burger.

Tom Yam with Muscle

Think Asian food, and Thai is definitely one of the cuisines that come to mind. Indeed, in the past 30 years or so, Thai cuisine has established itself as one of the most popular in the world.

I love Thai food, especially because of the flavors that arise from its play of fresh herbs and spices. Some of my most memorable eating experiences have come from Thailand – be it the back lanes of Bangkok, or a feast in rural Udon Thani where the entire village gathers to celebrate Thung Si Muang Festival in the town square…

Among Thai dishes, Tom Yam Soup is almost a cliché; yet this clear spicy soup is probably the first introduction to Thai cuisine for most people. It’s still one of my favorites, although the version I like most is not the typical combination of prawn, fish and squid, but this mussel variety.

 Tom Yam Mussels

Oil                               1 tbsp

Garlic                           1 clove, sliced thinly

Mussels                       1 kg, washed and beard removed

Water                          2 cups

Light beer                   2 cups

Galangal                     6, sliced

Lemon grass               2, bruised and sliced

Kaffir lime leaves        2, bruised

Chilli padi                   6, bruised

Fish sauce                  4 tbsp

Thai limes                   2

Coriander                   2 stalks, cut

Method:

1.    Sweat garlic with oil for 30 seconds.

2.    Add mussels and quick-stir for another 1 minute.

3.    Add water and beer, and boil. Once the liquid hits boiling point, turn down the heat and simmer for 8 minutes, or until the mussels are cooked.

4.    Add galangal, lemon grass and kaffir leaves and continue to simmer for another 30 seconds. Add chilli padi and season it with fish sauce.

5.    Turn off the heat, add coriander.

6.    Just before serving, squeeze lime juice onto the mussels.

Rules of Thumb:

For every 2 cups of water:

Kaffir leaf : Galangal : Lemon grass     = 1 : 3 slices : 3 cm

Fish sauce : Water                               = 1 tbsp : 1 cup

The Heart of Claypot Rice

I love claypot chicken rice. The multi-layers of satisfaction that a good one brings to me are hard to describe…but I’ll try.

Details matter and even the accompanying soy sauce  is sourced
from Kwong Woh Hing, regarded as the best manufacturer in Sg 

You open the lid, and the aroma hits you first: the smell of burnt rice, of dried sausages, and salted fish. The pot of rice, topped with moist glistening meat, greets your eyes. Then come the mouthfuls of flavor: the sweetness of dark sauce and lard, the succulence of chicken, and – for me and others like me – the brittle hardness of the golden bottom ‘crust’. When it comes to claypot rice, you eat with nose and eyes, as much as mouth. We Singaporeans have a word for it – ‘shiok’ (utter satisfaction)

So, when I moved to Hong Kong and encountered claypot rice (which in Hong Kong is only eaten in winter), it was a pretty big shock. Why wasn’t the rice properly burnt? And, where was the dark soy sauce? I came to miss the Singapore ‘version’ tremendously. But…it was better than nothing.

This dish allows one to appreciate the true
flavours of rice, chicken oil and ginger.

Gradually, like a novice learning the art of meditation, my perspective changed, and I began to appreciate the elegant simplicity of the Hong Kong version. I focused on the rice itself, and saw how the accompanying ingredients drew the best out of the simple grain.

In cooler climates, where food does not go bad that easily, people are more used to the freshness of meat and the crispness of herbs and vegetables. Their taste buds, it seems, are more acute to tastes and textures. We, in the hot tropics, on the other hand, are used to food that is more heavily spiced, seasoned, or cured that came as a result of earlier times when refrigeration was non-existent, and food that was less than fresh needed to be masked.

When we in Singapore eat claypot rice, we use the dark sweet sauce with a vengeance. While this gives an exceptionally robust aroma to the dish, it drowns out all its other flavors. In Hong Kong, I came to realize that their lighter cooking style actually brought to the fore other qualities of claypot rice that I used to overlook, such as the taste and texture of the rice grains, the seasonings of the main meat, the quality of the preserved/waxed meats, and the fragrance of the light soy sauce.

In Singapore, I came closest to this eating experience at Claypot Fun, a restaurant at East Coast Parkway. They do claypot rice in Hong Kong style; the owner having taken considerable pains to adapt, master and transport the spirit and taste of this version of claypot rice to Singapore. No dark sweet sauce is added or even offered on the table, and the rice isn’t burned to the carbon-like extent we’re used to.

Cheong fun and fried cruller -
odd but it is a marriage made in heaven

The flavors of this style of claypot are less explosive, less immediate; but each mouthful brings mounting discovery as the distinct and innate tastes and smells of rice, chicken, sausage, and soy sauce become more and more apparent, and mingle in your mouth. To heighten enjoyment, add some chicken oil (a special optional condiment) into the steaming claypot, because -- as any gourmet will tell you -- when it comes stirring up full-bodied flavor nothing beats a touch of animal oil.

Deceptively simple but getting the right texture
of porridge takes skill and a play of grains

I loved the porridge here as well. Two different types of rice go into it: one to give the porridge its smooth gooey texture, and the other to produce the so-called ‘rice breath’. The Chinese have always been fastidious about rice. In the restaurants of old Canton, it was common to specially hire a chef for the sole purpose of cooking rice and porridge, and this expert would normally be the highest paid man in the kitchen. Modern Chinese kitchens may not go so far, but some come awfully close. Claypot Fun grinds the rice for its ‘cheong fun’ skin daily to ensure optimum freshness, and the gorgeously silky melt-in-your-mouth result clearly repays the effort.

Other dishes worth looking out for:

A comfort food with a twist:
steamed egg custard with pork crispies

Loaded with cholesterol but packed with taste:
 Claypot Pork Liver

The Dance of the Stoves

Growing up, this was how I remembered that claypot rice would be prepared on the streets. The rice would be washed, drained and kept until it was ready for cooking. This allowed the rice to absorb water, resulting in fluffier grains when cooked. Next, a bit of salt was added to the rice to enhance flavour, and oil to add glisten to its appearance. The rice was then cooked at different temperatures at various stages. Turning the pot on the stove ensured the crust was evenly formed. In the past, it was common for the chef to have 20 or more charcoal stoves lined in front of him. The stoves would be operating at different flames and temperatures, and the chef would rotate the pots among them, like a game of musical chairs.

Note: Claypot Fun also serves dim sum from morning till 3 pm. 

Claypot Fun

Playground @ Big Splash

Blk B, 902 East Coast Parkway

#01-11 East Coast Park

Singapore

Telephone: 65-6440 7975

Sandy Lam does Drunken Chicken!

I first met Sandy in 2003. We were collaborating on a publishing project, one that brought us to Shanghai, Malaysia, and to Hong Kong before and after the SARS epidemic.

Before I worked with her, I had known Sandy as a pop singer. At the time we met, I actually owned a CD of hers that is still with me today -- Wild Flower. I liked its East/West and Retro/Modern arrangement and treatment, which resonated with my state of mind at the time. That aside, I wasn’t very familiar with her work. However, by the time of the completion of the project, which became her first published cookbook My Shanghai, we had become friends.

Sandy was a thoughtful, considerate friend; and often surprised people with the fastidious attention she paid to them. I remember clearly an incident. She was flying from Hong Kong to Shanghai to meet me. She had brought with her a box of meat pies from a particular shop in HK that she knew I loved. When we met, she happily handed the box, which she had personally hand-carried on the plane, to me. However, in the tumult of meetings and other distractions that followed, I forgot about the meat pies completely. Unbeknownst to me, the pies had been passed around to feed the other people who were there that day. The following morning, Sandy’s manager confided to me that the singer had actually observed that I had given the pies a miss. She was an attentive friend, indeed!

We were even caught in a local paparazzi newspaper with her

If our paths crossed later in different cities, such as Beijing, Shanghai, or Taiwan, Sandy would take me, and often my partner too, out for a meal. Sandy and I loved to eat and cook. If we were in Hong Kong, she would cook for us at her home. Being of Shanghainese birth, Shanghainese food was, of course, a forte of hers. It was at times like this that one would see the private, even domestic, side of the superstar. At other times, one would see the consummate musical professional.

Sandy was someone who had always known what she wanted, what worked for her, and the importance of following her own convictions. She never rested on her laurels, and always sought ways to grow as an artist. From language and painting classes to -- would you believe it? -- vocal lessons; in each album, music video and concert; she  would push the envelope and challenge herself. For that, I admired her.

And now, with a couple of singles just released and a concert this evening, I’m going to cook a recipe of hers that we have often enjoyed and loved. But, I’m giving it a tweak of my own!

Drunken Chicken

Chicken                      1

Water                         2½  litres

Spring onion             2

Ginger                        5 slices

Coriander                   1 sprig, including root

Salt                             1 tbsp

Marinate:

Chicken stock           1 litre

Bay leaves                 2

Rock sugar                100 g

Hua Tiao wine           ½ litre

Salt                            4 tbsp

Dried osmanthus      20 g

Method:

1. Boil water with spring onion, ginger and coriander. Hold the chicken by the neck and submerge it into the boiling water. Do this three times; each time, wait for the water to boil before lifting the chicken up, then lower it again when the water starts to boil again. After the third immersion, lower the chicken into the boiling water, turn off the heat, and cover the pot with a lid. Let it rest for 40 minutes.
2. Remove the chicken and immerse the chicken into the chilled stock that has been prepared earlier. Cover it and chill in the refrigerator overnight.
3. Before serving, remove the chicken from the broth and drain till completely dry.
4. Chop chicken into bite-sized pieces. Pour a spoonful of the liquid over the chicken and serve.

Marinate:

1.   Boil chicken stock, bay leaves and rock sugar. When the stock boils, remove it from the heat, add salt and dried osmanthus. When the stock cools to room temperature, add Hua Tiao wine.

2.   The stock must taste like seawater. Chill the stock overnight.

Devil’s Meat Loaf -- one hell of a dish!

It’s been said so often, it’s become a tired old cliché. But I’ll say it again…we in South East Asia are spoilt for choice when it comes to food.

For this, we have history largely to thank, for ensuring a continuous stream of different foreign influences into our culture – and hence, food – for hundreds upon hundreds of years. These influences were uniquely diverse, as they came from neighboring countries as well as far beyond.

Before the coming of the Europeans, the dominant power of this region was the Indonesian empire of Srivijaya, whose territory included modern-day Malaysia and Singapore. This was followed by a period of European colonization in the 17^th to 20^th centuries, which introduced Portuguese, Dutch, British, Spanish and other influences to South East Asia.

Western colonization brought trade opportunities and development to our region, and with it, floods of immigrants from all over the world. Europeans from the colonizing countries, as well as Chinese, Indian, and Arab immigrants, brought their habits and ways of life, and cuisines, to their new homes. This resulted in tremendous change and experimentation – especially in food. Old cooking traditions met new ingredients and techniques; new climates imposed new limitations or opened new possibilities; and different cuisines encountered and inspired one another…

Over generations, the various cuisines as we know them today gradually emerged, and are still evolving. Growing up greedy and adventurous in Singapore, I’ve eaten my fair share of British colonial-era dishes. And I must admit I have a soft spot for this nostalgic class of food, especially the classic British meat loaf and the Eurasian meat curry known as Devil’s Curry. To be precise, Devil’s Curry is a Cristang dish, Cristang being a traditional hybrid of Portuguese, Eurasian, and Malay cuisines.

This time around, I’ve decided to be bold and combine these two favorite dishes of mine. I present the Devil’s Meat Loaf!

Devil’s Meat Loaf

Ground beef                            500 g

Spam                                        200 g

Bread crumb                            ½ cup

Egg                                           2

Eggs                                         2, boiled for 7 minutes and peeled

Sauce:

Ketchup                                   4 tbsp

Chilli sauce                               1 tbsp

White vinegar                           ¼  tsp

Honey                                       ½ tsp

Seasoning:

Oil                                             2 tbsp

Onion                                       1, chopped

Garlic                                         2 cloves, chopped

Tumeric powder                       ½ tsp

Chilli powder                            ¼ tsp

Mustard                                     ½ tsp

Belachan                                    ¼ tsp

Black pepper                             ¼ tsp, ground

Fresh chilli                                  2, finely minced

Water                                         ¼ cup

Salt                                             1 tsp

Method:

1. Preheat oven at 175 degrees C.
2. Mix beef, spam, and bread crumbs thoroughly. Add seasoning, eggs, and season with salt.
3. Pour ½ portion of the mixture into a greased meat loaf pan. Lay hard-boiled eggs across the pan. Cover the eggs with the rest of the meat mixture.
4. Spoon sauce on top of the meat mixture and spread it evenly.
5. Bake for 90 minutes.

Seasoning:

1.   Saute onion and garlic under low heat until the onion turns soft. Add the rest of the spices and continue to fry for another 5 minutes. Add water and simmer for another 5 minutes. Season it with salt.

Sauce:

1.   Mix all ingredients and whisk it thoroughly under low heat. Set aside and cool.