Saturday, 22 June 2013

Stuffed Apricots to Beat the Haze


It’s upon us again – the haze, thanks to our neighbor, Indonesia, where, as everyone knows, the burning of forests and plantations is underway to clear the land for new crops.

In Singapore the Pollutant Standards Index (PSI) has hit record levels of 400 and above -- conditions considered potentially life threatening for the weak and the elderly. Our government appears to be doing its level best: raising vehement protests with its Indonesian counterpart and urging it to action, and pressing into effect precautionary measures at home. But somehow we still see workers made to labor outdoors without masks, and the rest of us scrambling to buy rapidly depleting -- if not completely depleted -- stocks of masks. Meanwhile, the Coordinating Minister for People’s Welfare in Indonesia, Mr Agung Laksono, blames the crisis not on human action, but on Nature, and accuses Singaporeans of being “like children, in such a tizzy.” As yet, no end is in sight.

In my family, we had several home recipes to “cleanse” our lungs and prevent cough whenever we were exposed to smoke and haze. One of the most common and economical was a dish of stir-fried chives and soybean sprouts. These days soybean sprout has become scarce in the market and so we use bean sprout as a substitute.

We often used fritillaria (川贝too in our soups and drinks. This pearl-like herb is a key ingredient in many Chinese medicinal concoctions meant to “cleanse” lungs and prevent cough.  In the recipe below, loquat is paired with fritillaria, but since loquat is not in season now, I have replaced it with apricot.

Stuffed Apricot with Fritillaria

Apricots                                   10
Fritillaria                                   20 g, crush if necessary
Candied persimmon               2, diced

Seasoning A:
Water                                      ¼ cup
Rock sugar                              30 g

Seasoning B:
Water                                      ¼ cup
Rock sugar                              40 g
Dried osmanthus                    2 g

Method:
11.   Blanch apricots and remove pits and peel.
22.   Mix fritillaria, candied persimmon and Seasoning A thoroughly. Steam for 20 minutes.
33.   Spoon fritillaria mixture into the core of apricot with syrup, and steam for another 15 minutes.
44.   Boil Seasoning B (except osmanthus) until it turns into syrup. Add dried osmanthus and stir  
         thoroughly. Turn off the heat. 
55.   Pour syrup over steamed apricot and serve it hot or cold.

Sunday, 9 June 2013

What I Think (1)…


This is my reply to a Penang-based blogger who recently commented on Singapore street food and the inaugural World Street Food Congress.  I won’t go too much into her post, instead I’ll refer interested parties to her blog, Eating Asia dated 7th June 2013 and her article “Keeping the Street in Street Food” in The Asian Wall Street Journal dated 11th March 2013.

"I have three points to make. Firstly, it’s meaningless to compare cities and their street food and argue which is the better. For example, the Nyonya food of Penang, Malacca, Singapore, and even Indonesia are different. I shall not even go into Thailand’s Nyonya cuisine. While they all come under the umbrella of ‘Nyonya’, they have each evolved over generations in their respective locales. They each bear different marks of ingredients, flavor, and stylistic emphasis, brought about by geography, demography, culture, etc, etc. For example, Penang Nyonya has Thai influences while I detect the Cristang element in the Malaccan version. Singapore’s is closer to the Malaccan. Having said that, we all swear by the food we grew up with; so every particular style of food will have its adherents. Therefore, arguing on something as subjective as personal taste in food – and hoping to reach some definitive judgment on it -- is ultimately futile and pointless.

Secondly, WSFC as a discussion platform might not be perfect, but hey, we have to start somewhere. And, it’s just the inaugural instalment. The disappearance and/or mutation of street food is a pattern in all developing/newly affluent societies. It is a cultural change that accompanies urban development. WSFC helps shine the spotlight on this phenomenon. It makes people aware and interested in street food from all over the world, and gets them thinking and discussing about the issues connected with street food. Are the selected council members the most ideal persons for the job? Only time will tell. Their immediate challenge, I think, is to keep an open mind, keep the conversation going, and work together to further illuminate critical issues such as heritage preservation, government involvement, career prospects, business challenges, etc.

Thirdly, we always equate ‘good’ and ‘authentic’ with the old. When we travel we like to see things that have remained, so to speak, in a time warp. I am guilty of this myself. Old architecture, old food, old cultures, appeal to us. But are such expectations fair? It is the right of every society to progress; for its people to enjoy better lives through commerce, technology, politics, etc. But when such advances result in loss of traditional foods, and other similar things, we lament the loss of ‘authenticity’ and ‘the good old days.’ The implication is this: that it’s okay for us to move forward, but when others do so, they’re being shortsighted and callous of their heritage. Isn’t this arrogance and chauvinism?"

UPDATE:

Since I last posted my comments in Eating Asia's blog on 9th June , she has responded with the following:

Gastronaut, thanks for your comment. I welcome the discussion. I'm not sure if you read my reply to Umami. I'll answer your points, but with a bit of repetition.
A) Thank you for the Nyonya cuisine primer. I am aware of local variations (you forgot Kelantan Nyonya in your round-up).
As I wrote to Umami, my "best" label was partly tongue-in-cheek, a rejoinder to Singapore Tourism's "street food capital" campaign. When you claim to be a street food capital you are opening yourself up for rejoinders. I would like travelers to know that George Town (and Penang) is a street food destination. That is all.
And while I agree that it is useless to label any city's XYZ food "best" -- bec taste is so subjective -- I am going to continue to assert that George Town's street food *scene* is better. Not bec I get exhaust with my noodles, but bec street food here is everywhere, on almost every block in kopitiam and from individual hawker stalls. It is easily accessible -- no need to duck into a shopping mall or a large hawker center to find it. When you walk in George Town the streets smell like food, most hours of the day. That, to me, spells a superior street food scene. For lovers of street food it doesn't get much better. You of course are free to disagree.
B) Yes, of course, as urban areas develop street food will mutate. It does not *have* to disappear. And *how* it mutates can be controlled. As I stated previously, my prob with the WSFC is that its organizers start from the premise that "the way it happened in Singapore is a model for other countries." I don't agree. (Just as I don't agree that, for all its merits, Singapore's urban development is also a model for all other Asian cities to aspire to.) And I'm unconvinced that packing the Congress with celebrities and others who aren't really down there "on the street", so to speak, is the way to introduce strong oppositional views to that stance. I'll stand by my assertion that the Congress could stand to benefit from steering away from the glitz and seeking knowledge from unknowns. (And no, I'm not referring to myself there.) We'll see what happens with Year 2.
Would pple be unaware of street food all over with the world without the Congress? I think that in this age of food blogs, that is debatable.
C) I deliberately steered away from using the word "authentic" in this post, so please don't put words in my mouth or ascribe thoughts to my brain. I've lived and traveled extensively in developing countries, and I've reported and written on heritage and conservation and the push-pull between the two and urban development.I like to think I have a pretty clear-eyed view of these issues, even when I travel (perhaps even more so when I travel). I'm not displaying a time-warpy, nostalgic love of the "old-timey" by expressing a fondness for George Town's street food culture.
That said, I understand where you're going with your third point. But I think I speak from a unique position -- I am living, right now, in city that is struggling with how to balance the "old" with "progress". I talk with people in George Town every day. I am not a nostalgic outsider focused on preserving "heritage" at the expense of "progress" for the locals. I know a dirty, decrepit old building when I see one. I also know, from experience -- having just finished renovations on a late 19th century shop house in the city -- that "old" buildings can be made liveable. And I know that "progress" for George Town's and Penang's street food culture doesn't have to look like Singapore's, Hong Kong's or Shanghai's.
When it comes to hawker food here Penang-ites are fanatically proud. No disrespect intended -- but they tell me "we don't want to be Kuala Lumpur. We don't want to be Singapore. We don't want to be Hong Kong."
What I think is arrogant is when "we" assume that others share our view of progress. Of course it is the "right" of every society to progress. But who's definition of "progress" do "we" assume they should subscribe to?

Wednesday, 22 May 2013

The Jumping Table - A Golden Performance By Two Legends



In my wildest dreams, I couldn’t have imagined this.

Two living legends of early Singapore cuisine – Masterchefs Sin Leong and Hooi Kok Wai – graciously took the time to make my dream come true four nights ago. By recreating long-forgotten dishes of the 1950s and 60s, they brought back some of the most cherished childhood memories of mine and of the 30 friends who shared the dinner table with me.

In fact, it was the second time the two maestros had done this. The first was a gorgeous rendition of the classic Cantonese wedding feast on last January. This time around, they had prepared a tribute to the Golden Era of Cantonese cuisine, featuring eight rare dishes.

Like all “golden eras” it’s hard to pin it down to precise dates, but the flowering of Cantonese cuisine, as we know it, probably began in the 1920s. It was a time of economic and political turmoil -- and extremes. The rich wallowed in luxury and excess, while the poor starved and left China in the millions to seek better lives elsewhere.

In southern China, Guangzhou became the epicenter of life: the place to wine and dine and live it up. Four great restaurants dominated the city -- Da San Yuan (大三元), Wen Yuan (文园), Nan Yuan (南园), and Xi Yuan (西园). They created dishes that lived on in Cantonese restaurant menus all over the world. The cooking styles and techniques they pioneered are the principal stock-in-trades of any respectable Cantonese chef today. And while catering to the lavish tastes of the era, they established the cult of the so-called “Four Treasures of Cantonese Cuisine” -- dried abalone, sea cucumber, shark’s fin and fish maw – and raised it to mythic status within Cantonese fine cooking.

Braised superior shark’s fin (六十元大裙翅) was the calling card of Da San Yuan. In the 1930s, to eat a bowl of this dish would cost the diner the equivalent of 14 baskets of rice padi.  To produce 2 liters of its stock required 15 kg of meat and Chinese ham, and four hours of brewing. Only the elite could afford it, and the dish remained but a dream to the masses.

Stuffed Chicken (江南百花鸡), the signature dish of Wen Yuan, was a display of virtuosic skill. The chicken was gutted leaving just the skin intact. A mixture of prawn and lard paste, about 2.5-cm thick, was pressed onto the skin, then steamed, cut and rearranged on a plate. Thick gravy made of superior broth was poured over the “chicken” just before serving. How expertly the cleaver was handled, and the preparation of the prawn paste, became the measures of the dish’s success.

Nan Yuan’s gift to posterity was its braised sliced abalone (红烧大纲鲍片). Each abalone was still alive when dried, a process that created a “soft” center that was unique for its time. The braised abalone, weighing some 200 grams apiece, would be sliced thinly before serving. The thick gravy that coated each abalone slice would, if perfectly made, leave the plate dry after the whole abalone had been consumed.

Xi Yuan was the only vegetarian restaurant in the prestigious list of four. Most matriarchs and wives among the rich in those days were devoted Buddhists, hence vegetarian cuisine was popular. The ingredients used in the vegetarian dishes of Xi Yuan were painstakingly sourced from all over China, especially the amazing arrays of mushroom, fungi and vegetable. One such famous dish was Ding Wu Vegetable (鼎湖上素), where three of the most expensive mushrooms and six types of fungi were used in its preparation.

After WWII, many Cantonese restaurants on the mainland were taken over by the Communist state. The leading chefs fled, to Hong Kong first and then the rest of the world. Many arrived in Singapore, and as a result the chefs in the top Singaporean restaurants of the 40s and 50s were often trained under these newly arrived Guangzhou immigrants. Skills were taught, absorbed and passed on.

In Singapore, Cantonese food flourished. Local masters wove local ingredients and techniques into the culinary melting pot. Alongside old dishes, new homegrown ones emerged. Game meat was the rage in the 60s and civet cat, anteater and bat became a common sight in restaurants. At the same time, road-side “cze char” stalls made sweet sour pork, claypot liver, and black-bean pork ribs with bitter gourd the popular standards of the working class. And with the arrival of “nouvelle” style, Cantonese cooking entered a new stage of evolution, which continues to the present day.

But for tonight, the gilded age of Cantonese gastronomy lives! We were one lucky group.

Duo jie, maestros!

APPETISERS


DUCK WEB STUFFED WITH PRAWN PASTE (掌上明珠) was a popular dish in local Chinese fine dining in the 60s. As a kid, I remember watching a wizened old lady sit in front of Ming Kee, a famous restaurant in Chinatown. She would use her teeth to “pick” out the bones from the duck web that would be used in the dish! Prawn paste was then shaped into a ball, placed on top of the web and steamed. The resulting dish would resemble a human palm holding a large white pearl, hence the apt Chinese name.

Crystal Pork Trotter (白雪猪手) requires multiple repetitions of boiling and soaking in ice water in order to achieve the jade-like crunchy texture of the meat. The trotter is then soaked in white vinegar, sugar and wine.

ROAST PORK/LARD COIN (金钱烤鸡). The fat is pickled in sugar and Chinese rose wine for at least a few days, turning it translucent and crunchy. This fat is also used in other Cantonese classics such as Lard Bun, and Chicken Biscuit. In this dish, pork, crystal lard, and chicken liver are shaped into round “coins”, skewered and roasted. Tonight, chicken liver had been omitted.


STIR-FRIED PIG’S INNARDS (同气连枝). Pig’s innards are often used in Cantonese cuisine. Cantonese chefs are renowned for turning cheap and often discarded meat into exquisite dishes through the clever use of cooking technique and sauces. Here, pig’s fallopian tubes and kidneys are prepared and quick-fried.  This dish often serves as an accompaniment for wines.

SOUP



BRAISED SUPERIOR SHARK’S FIN (凤凰纯大鲍翅) This dish made its appearance in the Ming Dynasty, when the Chinese empire was “open” and still reaching out to the rest of the world. Guangzhou and Fuxian were the principal ports-of-call, and both cities enjoyed prosperity and decadent standards of living brought about by trade. Shark’s fin was the dish to showcase your skills if you were a top Cantonese chef. It was also a symbol of luxury. The thick broth was prepared with chicken, pork, and Chinese ham, and the shark’s fin was then braised for hours in this rich broth.

MAINS

STEAMED GROUPER WITH PRAWN PASTE (麒麟蒸大石班鱼) is a flamboyant way to display the chef’s cleaver and cooking skills. The fish is completely deboned, and its flesh scrapped from the skin and made into paste with prawn, scallop and water chestnut. The paste is then spread on the fish skin and steamed. This dish was usually served at formal Chinese dinners.

BRAISED TURTLE WITH CHESTNUT WRAPPED IN CAUL OIL (粟子纲油红烧山瑞) is a Chinese delicacy served especially at birthday feasts as the turtle is a Chinese symbol of longevity. Chestnut, dried shitake mushroom, and roast pork are added to enhance the turtle meat. The mixture is then wrapped in caul oil to moisten it during braising.

BRAISED PORK BELLY WITH YAM (三水香竽扣肉配荷叶包) is a versatile Chinese dish served at home as well as at fine dining restaurants. The key ingredients are simple -- just pork belly and yam -- but it takes multiple cooking processes to prepare this dish. It was believed that Fujian produced the best yam in southern China.
 
Left - top & bottom: Braised Turtle with Chestnut wrapped in Caul Oil; Right: Brasied Pork Belly with Yam
DEEP-FRIED NOODLE IN DUAL SAUCES (鸿图窝面) While yee mee is never served “dry”, neither would it have been deemed proper to serve it in soup in this instance. So the chef created a light broth to “soak” the noodle in, and poured a layer of thickened gravy over it to create a visually appealing dish.

DESSERT

LOHAN PAPAYA SOUP (万寿果甜汤) There was a time that the lohan was considered an expensive herb used as a soother for throats and a remedy for coughs. The base of this dessert comes from brewing lohan and papaya with other ingredients.



RED STAR RESTAURANT
54 Chin Swee Road
#07-23
Singapore 160054
Telephone:   65-6532 5266

Photography by Mark Ong