Wow! Wo Pau

To those who know me well, I’ve always been something of a scatterbrain. Especially when it comes to remembering names and faces.

Food is a different matter. I almost never forget a smell or flavor, a sauce, a seasoning, herb or spice.

A case in point is the ‘wo pau’. I ate this pau (meat bun) when I was 5. It was a first, and only, encounter, yet I remember it like it was yesterday. And I’m in my early 50s.

It was the 1960s; and the place was the Nam Tin (Southern Sky) Restaurant, located at Nam Tin Hotel and Nightclub in Chinatown, Singapore; more familiar today as the Yue Hwa Department Store at the junction of Eu Yen Sang Road and Upper Cross Street. You’d never guess looking at this building today, that it was one of the tallest – and most glamorous -- of its time.

Built around the turn of the 20^th century and designed by Swan and Maclaren, this 6-storey building was the first Chinese hotel in Singapore to have a lift! It catered largely to Chinese travelers, and its nightclub on the rooftop attracted the wealthy and the socialites of the Chinese community in Singapore. I remember, as a kid, watching the grownups frown and shake their heads at the dancing girls and hostesses of the nightclub.

Reunited with an old friend after 40 years.
A Hong Kong version found at Lin Heung Kui, Sheung Wan

I remember too the building’s classical façade, which appeared looming and gigantic to me as a kid. It was ash gray with strong horizontal lines, angular arches, and simple cornices. It had balconies with steel-frame windows and European-style grills and railings. Looking at those windows and balconies sometimes made me sad, for they seemed to tell the story of the hotel’s ups and downs. In good times, the windows would blaze with light and sounds from the grand dinners and balls that went on behind them. In the last declining years of the hotel, the same windows and balconies would be hung with the washings of occupants who were no longer the elite of the land, but shoestring travelers.

Ran into another version in Meldrum Walk,
 Johor Bahru, recently.

During the 60s, the Nam Tin Restaurant filled the left portion of the hotel on its two bottom storeys. A delightful old lift with collapsible iron grilles linked the two floors. I loved the restaurant’s lower floor because I could watch the waiters carry dim sum out of the kitchen. In those days, dim sum wasn’t pushed around on trolleys or steamed-upon-order; instead the waiters would make their rounds carrying the steaming little baskets on a huge bamboo tray.

Although I ate regularly at the restaurant, I only saw the wo pau once -- shaped like a puffy white bowl with the meat stuffing exposed. A raw egg was placed on top of the meat to act as a lid and keep it moist. It took lots of skill, for sure, to shape the dough-bowl without collapsing it – something I tried but couldn’t do when I made my own wo pau. So I decided that the end justifies the means, and cheated by placing a bowl underneath to shape the dough.

When the hotel and restaurant finally closed, I went on a quest for the wo pau. Most dim sum chefs I described it to would wave their hands at me and accuse me of making up stories! More than 40 years passed before I finally saw something resembling it at Lin Heung Lo, a restaurant in Hong Kong.

Since then, I’ve come across a couple of versions of the still-very-rare wo pau. I saw one in Johor Baru made from glutinous rice, and another at Alexandra Village in Singapore made from two types of dough.

Wo Pau 窝包

Basic Yeast Dough  (makes 6)

Ingredients ‘A’ :

Pau flour                      250g, sifted

Salt                              ¼  tsp

Instant yeast               ¼  tbsp

Sugar                          40 g

Water                          120 ml

Shortening                  1½ tbsp

Ingredient ‘B’ :

Baking powder            ½ tbsp

Meat Filling:

Pork                             150 g

Chicken                       150 g

Chinese sausage        1, cut into 6 pieces

Dried mushroom         20 g, soaked in warm water and drained

Oyster sauce              1 tbsp

Chinese wine              ½ tbsp.

Corn flour                    2 tsp

Sesame oil                  1 tsp

Hard-boiled egg          1, cut into 6 slices

Method :

1. Mix all of ingredients ‘A’ together and knead into a smooth and elastic dough.
2. Cover with a piece of wet cloth and leave to prove until it has doubled its bulk.
3. Sift baking powder on top of the dough and knead well to distribute the baking powder until the dough is smooth again.
4. Cover and rest for 15 minutes before shaping.
5. Shape the dough into a log and divide the log into 6 pieces equally.
6. Take one portion, using a rolling pin, shape into a circular shape. Place it onto a bowl and press it against the side of the bowl.
7. Fill the bowl with the meat filling.
8. Steam the pau for 20 minutes.

Meat filling:

1. Mix all ingredients well, except the egg, and marinate it for at least 30 minutes.

The Islamic, a Singapore Original

Nasi Bryani comes with an option of meat: chicken, mutton or fish.

Growing up in 60s and 70s Singapore, the Islamic Restaurant was, to me, an Aladdin’s Cave redolent with the mystery and exoticism of Old Arabia; filled not with loot and precious gems, but with a sumptuous treasure no less…of the culinary kind!

Not many restaurants in Singapore (I reckon a dozen or so?) can lay claim to being a culinary institution. In my book, Islamic Restaurant is in this elite.

“The Islamic ” -- as it’s more usually referred to – was founded in 1914, making it nearly 100 years old. The man who founded it was M. Abdul Rahman, an Indian masterchef who cut his teeth working for a wealthy Arab family, the Alsagoffs. The Alsagoffs were early owners of the Raffles Hotel and famous in Singapore history for their philanthropy.

According to the story, the masterchef’s deft fusions of the Indian and Arab cuisines so tantalized his employers that he decided to strike out on his own. Thus was born the Islamic. Although it has relocated a couple of times over its history, the restaurant has always been famously housed in one of the 2-storey prewar shophouses that line North Bridge Road, across from the Sultan Mosque.

In its heyday in the 50s to 70s, the Islamic was a place to be seen. British colonials and wealthy locals dined there, and its guest list was graced with Presidents of Singapore, top judges and government officials, and regional royal families. I remember attending the lavish wedding dinners of some friends at the restaurant in the 1960s. To me, its décor and ambience counted almost as much as the food.

Tomato in Sweet Syrup

I loved the sconce lights, pewter ware, damask drapery, and framed Quranic inscriptions on the walls. It was cozy and dim; the rich fabrics and jewel-like colors became weatherworn over the years, I remember; but it only seemed to add to the atmosphere. While eating, you would sometimes hear the muezzin’s musical call at prayer times from the nearby mosque. This made dining at the Islamic magical.

But let’s talk about the food. Of this, Nasi Beryani remains the Islamic’s most famed. From the Persian word for “roasted/fried before cooking”, Beryani is a rice-based dish made with spices, rice, and meat and vegetables. And of the many types of Beryani in existence, the Islamic’s is unique, combining both Indian and Arab methods of cooking in a well-guarded secret recipe, created by the founder, M. Abdul Rahman, himself.

Mutton Samma

My personal favorites, however, include the hard-to-find Tomato in Sweet Syrup, a wonderful starter as well as a great dip for the Roti Mariam. Another must for me, since the 1960s, has been the Mutton Samma, mutton slow-cooked in thick gravy and spicy-peppery in flavor. Also superb are the Chicken Mysore (a favorite with the Sultan of Brunei, I’m told) and the Mutton Mysore. In fact, the best way to sample the Islamic’s 200-item menu is to have plain rice with two or three accompanying dishes of meat, fish or vegetables – as I often do.

Roti Mariam

Now to the Roti Mariam. A woman at Kampong Glam created this unique ‘roti’ (bread) and sold it on a pushcart. The Islamic later employed her, and included her roti on the menu. Roti Mariam is named after her, and is available at the Islamic and nowhere else. It tastes like a cross between naan and prata, and is eaten with plain sugar, milk, or curry.

Today the Islamic is into its third-generation of owners, and no longer the habitué of just the mighty and well heeled, but everybody. And, may I add, long may it live and prosper!

Islamic Restaurant


745 North Bridge Road


Singapore 198713


Tel: 65-6298 7563

Curry Chicken – No Explanation Needed

If you asked me, there’s one dish that deserves to be honored as a national dish, but never is. Curry Chicken.

Every ethnicity has its own variant, or often variants. It’s the darling of potluck parties and food caterers; and mainstay of  “economical rice” stalls and hotel coffee houses and everything in between. It graces the festive table at home, and once was a common repast for hungry attendees at all-night wakes. And, it’s been around like forever.

Curry chicken was always accompanied by fried bee hoon and fish balls at parties. They made a terrific trio. When I was young, I had a schoolmate whose grandmother hailed from Ipoh, Malaysia. This old lady made a to-die-for curry, and it was one of the first dishes she taught me. She made it literally from scratch – a commonplace in those days.

There was no recipe, no weighing scale. The spices would be mixed to an estimated ratio. She would pound the shallots, garlic, spices and everything, in a mortar and pestle; and fry the thick rich paste for more than an hour in a wok. The sounds and, most memorably, the smell, of her labors would fill the entire house. Under such tutelage, my Curry Chicken education was off to a good start!

For those lacking the confidence, or fortitude, for such backbreaking effort, there’s always the Indian stall at the wet market. Simply name your intention -- curry chicken, or beef rending, or curry vegetable – and the stallholder will put together, from a pre-ground array of spices, the perfect mix for you. Easy as that!

Personally, I prefer the long road; but to make it worth my while for the trouble of pounding the ‘rempah’ (pre-cooked curry paste), I usually make a huge quantity. That way, I could stockpile the rempah -- split into smaller containers and stored in the freezer – for future use. Here’s one of my favourite recipes for Curry Chicken.

A gift from a friend, this electric stone grinder
makes preparing spices much easier.

Curry Chicken

Chicken                       1, cleaned and cut into chunks

Ginger                         50 g, grated

Potato                         500 g, skinned and cubed

Water                          3 cups

Coconut                      500 g, grated

Oil                               1 cup

Lemon grass               5, bashed

Salt                              ¾ tbsp

Sugar                           1 tsp


Curry Rempah:

Coriander seeds          5 tbsp, fry in a dry pan until fragrant

Candlenut                   20 g

Dried chillies               100 g, soaked in warm water, drained

Fresh turmeric            70 g, bashed
Red chillies                 10

Shallots                       300 g

Curry powder             300 g

Chilli paste                  3 tbsp

Garlic                           100 g

Method:

1.             Grate ginger and squeeze juice to marinate the chicken for 30 minutes.

2.             Cut potato and soak in water to remove the starch. Dry and deep-fry the potato until the skin is slightly brown. Drain and set aside.

3.             Fry rempah (without the garlic) and bashed lemongrass with oil under medium heat for 20 minutes. Add a tsp of water if necessary to prevent the rempah from being burnt.

4.             Add garlic and continue to fry for another 5 minutes, or until oil oozes out from the rempah.

5.             Increase the heat to the maximum, add chicken and fry until the skin of the meat is lightly golden. Add potato and 2 cups of water; simmer for 20 minutes.

6.             Meanwhile, squeeze ¼ cup of coconut cream from the grated coconut. Set aside. Add 1 cup of water to the grated coconut and from it squeeze another cup of coconut milk. Set aside.

7.             Add 1 cup of coconut milk to the curry mixture and simmer for another 10 minutes. Ensure the mixture does not boil or the coconut milk will curdle.

8.             Add salt and sugar to taste.

9.             Just before serving, add the coconut cream and heat for 5 minutes.

I normally make curry paste in huge quantities and
store them in smaller containers in the freezer for future use.

Curry Rempah:

1.             Pound coriander seeds, candlenut, dried chillies, turmeric, and shallots, in sequence, finely. Ensure each ingredient is finely pounded before adding the next ingredient.

2.             Add curry powder and chilli paste and mix well. Set aside.

3.             Pound garlic until fine and set aside.

4.             If you are using an electric blender, add all fresh ingredients with a little bit of water and blend it thoroughly. Mix the curry powder and chilli paste well before cooking.

Ginger Biscuit – Words & Morsels

What is food, without language to describe and celebrate it? I was lucky to be instilled with a love for both, early on in my life.

I learned English at pre-school kindergarten at a public school, under the no-nonsense eye of an archetypical British teacher, all prim and proper ala Ms Jean Brodie. I remember her fondly; she would drill us for hours on end, on pronunciation and grammar, and to her I owe my lifelong appreciation of the tongue. In class, she was also an enthusiastic and tireless communicator of English social manners and etiquette. She helped set certain standards of behavior that I still live by today.

School day started at 8 am and ended around 3 in the afternoon. To a kid my age this seemed an eternity. But there were blessings. The daily meal routine was tea, lunch, and tea again. We were fed well: at tea, we helped ourselves to sandwiches, cakes, and biscuits, washed down with milk, tea, and fruit juices. Tea became one of my favorite drinks, and afternoon tea with biscuits one of my favorite pastimes for life. Here is a classic biscuit from these early years that I’ve enjoyed, given a twist using fresh ingredients from South East Asia.

Ginger Biscuit

Self raising flour                  170 g

Soft brown sugar               100 g

Bicarbonate of soda          1 tsp

Butter                                     56 g

Fresh ginger                          ¼ cup, grated

Ginger flower                       4 tbsp

Golden syrup                       1 tsp

Egg                                           1

Method:

1.     Preheat oven at 180°C

2.     Mix all dry ingredients in a bowl.

3.     Add beaten egg a little at a time to produce a stiff consistency.

4.     Divide the dough into 12 pieces and roll them into a ball.

5.     Bake for 15 – 20 minutes.

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.