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

Seared Golden Oyster – Quick-to-cook Delicacy

I love dried oyster. In fact I grew up eating dried oysters in many forms and dishes. Most commonly seen at home would be the classic Cantonese dried oyster porridge with dried sole fish, or the must-have Chinese New Year reunion dish: dried mushroom, oyster and black moss stew.

When I moved to Hong Kong in 2007, I saw semi-dried, huge oysters stringed on bamboo sticks. Later, I found out that it was a delicacy, in which fresh oysters were sunned for a few days before hitting the market. The taste is more robust than the fresh ones, but less “smoky” than dried oysters.

Cooking these oysters is easy. Marinate them with Chinese wine, salt and sugar, then steam them for a couple of minutes and finish them by searing with honey. I made a slight twist at the final stage, for I love the taste of Balsamic vinegar reduction with oyster.

So, here is my version. Enjoy!

Seared Golden Oyster

Semi-dried oysters                            12

Peanut oil                                             2 tbsp

Balsamic vinegar                                1 tbsp

Sugar                                                      ½ tsp

Marinate:

Chinese yellow wine                        2 tbsp

Ginger juice                                         1 tbsp

Premium soy sauce                          1 tbsp

Sugar                                                     1 tsp

Salt                                                         ¼ tsp

White pepper                                     ¼ tsp

Method:

1. Remove oyster from the bamboo stick carefully.
2. Brush the side of oyster with a brush under running water.
3. Marinate oyster for 10 minutes.
4. Steam oyster for 20 minutes.
5. Remove oyster and drain thoroughly. Keep the juice aside.
6. Slightly brown oyster with peanut oil on both sides. Remove and set aside.
7. Using the same pan, reduce oyster juice, balsamic vinegar and sugar until they thicken. Adjust taste accordingly.
8. Toss oyster in the reduction until well mixed.
9. Serve immediately.

Pickled Crab – A Small Forgotten Delight

How often, and easily, a dish disappears from our memory…

A short conversation with a friend brought me back to a dark bottle of preserved crabs, often displayed in old provision shops back in the late 60s.

Even though it was a common side dish with the Teochew, I recall eating these pickled crabs only once -- when I was very young. Back then in the 60s, the majority of people earned meager salaries, and these little crabs would often be the only dish in a meal, eaten with a bowl of plain porridge. They are called Wa Kee.

Photo by Mark Ong

Wa Kee are tree-climbing crabs that inhabit the mangrove swamps. They are parasitic and burrow in the mud, and feed on the propagules, or buds, of the mangrove plant. The crabs emerge at dusk and are known to climb as high as 6 metres up a tree to forage for food. To harvest them, a net is held at the base of the tree, and a long stick used to scare or dislodge the crabs, which then drop into the net.

The Teochew pickle them in vinegar or soy sauce, while the Thai like the crabs salted or deep-fried. Sadly, these crabs have become hard to find in Singapore.

Pickled Crab

Wa Kee                                         300 g, live

Fresh coriander                         2 tbsp, minced

Seasoning

Sichuan pepper                         ¼ tsp

Coriander seeds                        ¼ tsp

Soy sauce                                     2 cups

Garlic                                             4 cloves

Chili padi                                      2, sliced thinly

Sugar                                            2 tsp

Method:

1. Soak live crabs in clean water for 2 days, changing water every 6 hours. Pat dry.
2. Pan-fry Sichuan pepper and coriander seeds in a dry pan until fragrant. Pour soy sauce and garlic. Simmer for 3 minutes and remove from heat. Add chili padi and sugar; stir thoroughly until the sugar dissolves. Let it rest to room temperature.
3. Add crabs and submerge them.
4. Keep it in a fridge for at least 24 hours.
5. Add fresh coriander before serving.

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.