Beef it up

It has been exactly three months since the photos in this post were taken. More than anything, I think it shows how much of a procrastinator I am.

Having had the summer break routine massively altered by my internship, instead of spending three months travelling around Hong Kong, Shanghai, Taiwan and Japan, I spent 10 days in Hong Kong and Taipei with my parents and the rest of the time behind a desk. It was great...financially. I was ready to quit after 10 days of reading case judgments word by word then endless guides and rulings. Until they finally got me a computer...but that's another story.

Back to the trip. And more importantly, the food.

We arrived in Taipei on the Friday of their Election Weekend. Yes, it deserves to be capitalised, because it was a massive election-all levels of government from their Parliament to their local lizhang, which takes care of the local "li", which is literally a collection of streets. Their campaigns, clearly, are very different to ours. Posters, flags, people bowing and giving you freebies like biscuits and tissues with flyers on the streets. Lots of loudspeakers blasting slogans and pre-recorded messages from the candidate. If you're lucky, you might even catch a glimpse of the candidate waving to the "crowds" from their "box". By the morning of Election Day, though, all of that had gone, and the city of Taipei plunged into a bit of an eerie, quiet state of nervous anticipation.

(And yes, Lian Shengwen was shot the night we arrived in Taipei. We actually went past the candidate's office about an hour before it happened.)

Apart from that, Taipei was still exactly the same. We've visited so many times we don't need maps to find our way around anymore. Though that could be attributed to our Taipei routine...

First stop: Yong Kang Street


Ah, the home of Din Tai Fung. It's not hard to find: just look for the street next to that famous XLB restaurant. As much as I love my XLB we gave it a miss this time, heading straight into the depths of Yong Kang Street for our other food favourites.

Entree: shallot pancakes

Yong Kang Street is a place we visit without fail on every Taipei trip. And this particular street stall gets my attention every time. But it wasn't until about a year ago when we finally tried their shallot pancakes, after about 10 years of nagging from me (goes to show how willing my Dad is when it comes to trying food he has no interest in). Fluffy, crisp, slightly chewy, and not in the slightest bit oily, they are almost roti-like in thinness of the layers but fragrant with young and finely chopped shallots.

Main: Yong Kang Beef Noodles

Taking a right turn at the shallot pancake stall, opposite the local primary school is the usual second stop where we get some awesome beef noodles. Taiwan is renowned for their beef noodles...and beef noodle obsession. Yong Kang Street has some of the best, and Yong Kang Beef Noodles is one of our favourite. Their beef noodles come in two "flavours": the clear style and the red braised style. Personally, I prefer the latter for its heartiness and richness, but the former is excellent also.

Before the noodles arrive, a trip to the side dishes trolley must be made. If the beef noodles is the moon, then the side dishes are most certainly the stars that complete the sky. The dried bean curd and bamboo shoots are definite must eats. And the eggplant... melt in your mouth, simply exquisite in texture, with a good kick of spice and heat from the chili and garlic.

The noodles come with large chunks of braised beef and tendons. The noodles are slightly chewy, with a whiff of fresh flour, flavoured with the full bodied beef soup. Both meat and tendons are awesomely tender, and completely soaked with flavour. Don't be stingy with the preserved vegetables that sits on each table: it is like that final dusting of icing sugar that just elevates the experience. It adds sweetness, tangyness and the texture of crunch. To cut the richness further, add a dash of vinegar.

Dessert: Taiwan-style "ice"

Ice Monster used to live opposite the shallot pancake stall, until the owners decided to get divorced. And man it turned messy. Now, the same address houses Yong Kang 15 (the store's address...literally) which sells basically the same menu as Ice Monster. On past occasions I have tried their strawberry ice and mango ice (much awesomeness), this time I went for the golden sweet potato and black sugar caramel jelly ice instead. The black sugar jelly was the best part: so hard it was bouncy, but just sweet enough to let the molasses taste shine through. The ice cream was a bit on the grainy side, but had an interesting texture that had chunks of real sweet potato. Not bad, but I'll stick to my strawberry and mango ice next time. If there is a next time...

Yong Kang Street, Da'an district, Taipei city 台北市大安區永康街

檢視較大的地圖

Yum Cha with a view

Hong Kong, arguably, has some of the best food in the world. It has, I believe, the best yum cha in the world, too, but finding the ultimate yum cha restaurant is a task harder than first thought. What I have found, though, is probably one of the better ones, with prices similar to what is being paid in Sydney (at places like Kam Fook and Marigold), but with much, much higher standards.  Not surprising, because yum cha is a popular breakfast, lunch and weekend brunch option, with at least 2 or more restaurants offering yum cha within the same shopping area--a lot of shopping centres, especially those along the MTR line, are interlinked. Competition is fierce, especially during non-peak periods (before 11am and after 2pm), and with frugal housewives and pensioners on the hunt for great deals, prices are kept low too, without too much sacrifice to quality. Come weekends, though, most families will look for quality--yum cha, in that sense, would be a family treat, and sometimes an opportunity to catch up with extended family and friends. With the economy on the rise, more and more people are now looking for higher quality, and willing to pay the premium for both food, service and ambience.

Cuisine Cuisine (國金軒), located at one of the most highly sought real estate in Hong Kong, the IFC at Central, meets this demand. With views of the Victoria Harbour, the chic interiors and smartly dressed waitstaff reflects the philosophy behind the food: traditional Cantonese food modified to suit the modern palate...and sometimes, the budget. Yum cha is no budget affair here: one of the regular dim sum offerings is abalone siu mai, where chunks of abalone is mixed in with the usual pork and shrimp filling, topped with a reconstituted, dried abalone the size of a fingernail. More regular fare is offered too, made to the same standard of excellence. 

 The seasonal menu

Once seated, tea is ordered and appetisers served. Also on the table are the chili oil and spicy soy, both house specialties. Dim sim is made to order, and a few moments is usually given before the waitstaff approaches again.

First to arrive is the steamed BBQ pork buns (叉燒包 Char siu bao). White, fluffy, and piping hot, each one is split into almost perfect halves. The buns are soft, light, and with just the right amount of chew, encasing a sweet-savoury filling of char siu that actually tastes of meat.

One of the modern reworkings of a yum cha classic is the steamed vegetarian rolls in tofu skins (蒸腐皮齋卷). Topped with a thickened shantang broth, it is light but packed with umami, the interplay of textures of the tofu skin, carrots, mushroom and shaved asparagus lettuce (萵筍) is a reflection of both skill and thought in this healthier version of the classic pan-fried vegetarian rolls that proliferate Sydney yum cha.

Mini char siu pineapple buns (迷你叉燒菠蘿包) is the fusion of the steamed BBQ bun with another Hong Kong favourite, the pineapple bun. The egg and sugar topping on the soft buns, cracked under the oven to resemble the exterior of a pineapple (hence the name) brings out not only the sweeetness of the char siu filling, but also the umami of the pork itself. It has become a favourite dim sim at yum cha, and the version at Cuisine Cuisine is one of the best in town.

Prawn dumplings (蝦餃 har gao) is a perennial favourite. Beneath the translucent skin lies a filling of fresh prawns and bamboo shoots, with the smallest amount of pork to bind it all together. The contrast of the chewy skin and the slight crunch of the filling is perfectly complemented with a small dab of the chili oil. A good prawn dumpling should have 18 pleats, the skin should not break when poked lightly with chopsticks, and offer a degree of resistance on chewing. This, I'd say, satisfies all three requirements.

Spring rolls (春捲) have been experiencing a renaissance in the dim sum world. Many newer restaurants now offer versions that are slender and long, rather than short and stumpy, with a filling of prawn paste that is, well, quite bouncy. Lightly fried, the skin is earthshatteringly crunchy and textural contrast with the prawn paste filling makes this one of the best reworkings I've tasted.

Siu mai (燒賣) is another yum cha classic. Hand minced pork and prawn is mixed in with chopped shiitake to make the filling, topped with roe before being steamed. Texturally, the filling is not as soft and dead as the ones made with machine minced meat, with small pockets of diced meat in the filling that actually lets you taste exactly what you are eating. As only the freshest meat is used, having not experienced the snap chill as Australian meat does, the pork and prawns exhibit extra umami from the freshness.

The stir-fried beef rice noodles with abalone sauce (鮑汁濕炒牛河) provides the carbs for the meal. I wouldn't say it is brilliant--the beef had too much bi-carb in the marinade (good quality beef shouldn't need any with a good chef). Nonetheless, it was still tasty, with the unconventional addition of compacted tofu skin which soaked up the abalone sauce.

Sure, similar, if not the same dishes can be found in Sydney for around the same price (25AUD per person). But the quality of food and service would be vastly different. And with the dollar nearing parity, it makes a lot of sense to save up for a trip to places like Hong Kong where the currency is pegged to the greenback, and splurge there instead.  

Cuisine Cuisine

3101, Podium level 3,

IFC Mall, Hong Kong

Ph: +852 23933933

Bookings essential for yum cha.

Now this is crab

If you ever need proof of me being a massive procrastinator, well, here it is now. This is a long overdue post from July.

Coming from a family of rather spontaneous travellers (say, for example, our first trip ever to Kanto region of Japan was planned within 2 weeks, accommodation and flights confirmed a week before departure), we made the decision to go on a cruise about 2 days after it was suggested by a family friend. A 7 day cruise on the Diamond Princess, up the Alaskan Inner Passage from Vancouver to Anchorage. Unfortunately, I was the only one against the plan (what 20-something year old would want to be stuck on a ship for 7 days?) but given the overwhelming majority, I was overruled.

But I'm glad I went. And all because of this one dish. Or should I say, bucket.

Real Jumbo Alaskan King Crab.

After half a day on an el cheapo local tour (our pre-booked helicopter glacier excursion was cancelled due to heavy fog), we found ourselves rather cold and hungry (Alaska summer temperatures = Sydney winter climate). The Hangar on the Wharf Pub was suggested as a good local hangout for a beer and pub food, so that was where we found ourselves. Hearty food, awesome burgers, great local beers, at reasonable prices.  

Having had "crab legs" on the ship the night before, the Alaskan King crab legs on the menu at $65US for 4 legs (not including tips and taxes) seemed a bit too pricey. We were ready to grab the bill and go when we spotted another table being served the jumbo king crab legs.

The legs that were served on the ship the night before were tiny compared with the jumbo legs. That one leg had the same amount of meat I managed to scrape from my serving of about 2 dozen leg segments. The legs were so incredibly fresh, it didn't need much after being steamed.

With the legs were segments of fresh lemon, and, to our confusion, a tapas pot of melted butter. While the rest of the table went for the lemon (all being overly health conscious), I was the only one who went for the butter. Oh man, crab and butter ... it worked so well. The meat was actually quite delicate, so the acidity of the lemon juice actually was too harsh and didn't complement as well. The butter brought an extra dimension of richness and silkiness to the perfectly steamed meat, and heightened the sweetness and briny freshness of the crab even more. Mum had always said "whoever was the first to eat crab was a true food adventurer"; well, the consensus after the meal was "whoever came up with having crab with melted butter was a true food genius".

It was also the first time I had a dark beer. This is a local dark from the Alaskan Brewing Company, a rich, slightly bitter, nutty concoction that strangely had a Coke-ish aftertaste. It really cleansed the palate between each bite of crab, and brought out the nuttiness of the butter quite well.

To be honest, this was the best meal of the entire trip. Ship food was lackluster, other food on the land excursions weren't that memorable. As for the famed Alaskan salmon, it really is quite different to the salmon we get here in Australia. The King is a rich, fatty, delicately flavoured variety, and so probably better cold smoked, and the Sockeye much more robust and stronger in the salmon taste, and my preferred one for hot smoked. Unfortunately I forgot to take photos, but there really weren't any of the fresh fish at the time I visited, and not a lot of point taking photos of the pre-packed stuff.

Hopefully I'll be less of a procrastinator on my next trip, which is happening in less than 2 weeks!

The Hangar on the Wharf Pub
2 Marine Way #106
Juneau, Alaska
(907) 586 5018

Crackles!

It's Election Day. Have you cast your vote yet?

If Crackles was a political party and running in this election, there would have been no doubt at all which party I'd vote for. (Ok, so that was lame...)

Last week, a tweet by Pat Nourse caught my eye. "Today's best reason to leave the house: crisp-skinned slow-cooked kurobuta pork belly rolls at the Crackles stand at the Rozelle markets." The tweet, apparently, has since gone viral, though the virality has nothing to do with my actually going for a roll myself. I trust Pat Nourse and his tastebuds. A man who recommends Sang Kee cannot be wrong about crisp-skinned slow-cooked kurobuta pork belly rolls.

And the fact that they were set up at my nearest polling station was an extra incentive.

So we wandered there at 9:15, hoping to be overwhelmed by the smell of roasting pork. Maybe it was the wind, maybe it was something else, but it was really hard to smell anything at that end of the market. So we wandered around looking for the polling place (turns out there was a last minute change and we had to walk 2 blocks down), cast our votes, and came back. 9:45. We were about to give up and head down a block and grab something from Zumbo, when I saw one of the boys in chef's whites pulling out a roll.

Cue yygall, rushing over with arms full of newspaper, for one pork roll.


Pork!!!!

And there was a barbecue full of that!!!

I watched in awe with saliva dripping down my shirt as the pork was cut, pulled, and de-fatted. A sprinkling of Murray River Salt (it was pink!) over the meat, then everything was piled on top of a fresh bread roll stuffed with salad. When the crackling was cut...HOMG. I swear my heart fluttered.


Roll!!!!

The bread roll was crusty and crunchy on the outside, but really soft inside. Salad was crisp with a fantastically tangy dressing. But the pork! The pork was juicy, tender, and meltingly soft. And the crackling earthshatteringly crisp and fragrant. I totally understand why Pat Nourse said it was "the best reason to leave the house". I would leave the house for that every day.

Best Election Day breakfast ever.

PS: I think we may have ran into our local Liberal candidate as we came out of the market stuffing our faces into the pork rolls. Who cares about politics when there's good food to be had?

Much thanks to Crackles for allowing the photos. And not charging for them. Hehe.

Crackles
Saturdays: Rozelle Markets
9am-4pm

Sundays: Frenchs Forest Organic Food Markets
8:30am-1pm

Pork/Lamb rolls $8
Plate of pork $10
(Prices as of 21 August 2010, subject to change without notice)

quick meals

There is always a batch of wontons in my freezer. Always.

While most of my friends stock up on Mee Goreng or Nissin noodles when they're on special, chances are I'd be sitting at my desk endlessly wrapping wontons, freezing them one tray at a time.

Why?

I don't know.

Growing up in a family that ate predominantly Shanghainese food even though we lived in Hong Kong, the difference between Chinese cuisine styles have occasionally stumped my 2-and-a-half year old self. Like why are the wonton wrappers we use white instead of yellow? Why do we not put prawn mince in the filling? And why do we have veges in the filling? And why are wonton wrappers square while dumpling (jiao zi) wrappers are round?

Why? Why? Why?

...and that's how my nickname, yygall, came into existence.

And also signified how much interest I had in food since a young age.

I remember on one occasion insisting on stir-frying my own fried rice, while mum held me in her arms. And on another cool spring day watching mum wrap wontons at amazing speed. I tried to learn, but honestly can't remember how mine turned out. It probably wasn't until age 7 or so that I could finally do it and the resulting wontons (at least, cooked ones) were indistinguishable from Mum's. To this day our uncooked wontons still look different: most of the time hers would have 2 or 3 dimples, while mine would have 1 or 2. But I've gotten much better at making the filling: one taste, and the difference is there.



Celery, carrot, waterchestnut, shiitake mushroom and pork wontons

Wonton fillings are various, and occasionally unexpected. In Shanghai, a lot of "fast food" stores would have a small collection of fillings, from the 三鮮(San Xian, with pork, dried freshwater prawn or kai yang and preserved vegetable; another popular combination is freshwater fish, prawn and pork mince) to various 菜肉 (vegetable and meat) combinations, depending on what's in season. Most vegetables can be used in the filling, though traditionally leafy greens that aren't bitter, are fresh and fragrant are preferred.

One of my favourites is 薺菜肉餛飩. Shepard's purse is quite popular in Shanghai-style home cooking, for its fragrance and texture. Only the youngest of shoots are used, though; and it's almost never served to pregnant or breastfeeding women, or those with heart disorders (Chinese medicine principles). Another favourite is water celery and pork: water celery is like a smaller, condensed version of normal supermarket variety celery, with most stalks not longer than 30cm and as thick as a pencil. It's refreshing, light, crunchy and oh-so-fragrant; something I can eat every day and not get sick of. Ever.




But, having not yet found water celery yet, this combination of water chestnuts and celery is almost as good. It's crunchy, refreshing, colourful, and fragrant; the combination of flavours and aromas from the pork and shiitake is almost perfect. And the carrot...it does little in terms of taste and texture, but adds that extra little something visually: after all, we eat with the eyes as well as with our sense of taste and smell.

Why have instant noodles, when you can have this instead?


Celery and Pork Wontons
Makes 80
2 packets of Double Merino Shanghai Wonton wrappers
500g pork mince
1 egg
1/4 celery, finely chopped
10-12 water chestnuts*, smashed then chopped
1/3 carrot, finely diced
4 medium-sized dried shiitake mushrooms, soaked overnight, finely diced

1 Tbsp Shaoxing cooking wine
2 tspn salt
large pinch of finely ground white pepper
2 tspn sugar
1 Tbsp water
1 Tbsp sesame oil

*Frozen water chestnuts are available in the freezer section of some, if not most Asian groceries. They're white, round, almost pebble like in appearance. To thaw, just pop a few in a freezer bag, tie it up, then submerge in a bowl of cold water - this prevents them from being overly waterlogged. Pare off any of the skin that may be on (it's dark brown and woody and inedible), smash with the back of a knife (preferably a cleaver of sorts), then roughly chop.

In a large mixing bowl, place the pork mince, cooking wine, salt, pepper, sugar, and mix through. Beat in the egg and water, mix vigorously until the mince is reminiscent of a sticky dough. Add the sesame oil and mix through til well dispersed. Add the chopped vegetables and mix thoroughly.
For more even distribution of filling, divide the mix into 16 lots (halve the mix 4 times), each lot should have enough filling for 5 wontons.
To wrap, the easiest way is to fold diagonally, then press the 2 corners on the hypotenuse (longest side) together in the middle.
To cook, place the wontons in a large pot of boiling water (no more than 20 at a time), stirring gently but constantly during the first few minutes on medium to high heat. Once it returns to the boil, add 1/2 cup of cold tap water for every 10 wontons. Once it comes to boil again, turn off the heat and serve immediately.
The traditional base for wontons is pork bone soup, but it chicken soup, or even watered down soy sauce with a smidgeon of sesame oil can be used. No dipping sauce required.

It's not often I don't cook a meal. Be it frozen wontons, reheating curry, or even if it's just some sort of really quick and filling soup thing, something would be done in the kitchen before a meal.
Not today.
It was 6:30. I was hungry. There's nothing in the fridge, coz I haven't had time to buy groceries. I wanted something spicy. And meaty. And realised there was a restaurant downstairs that did takeaway.
It's a "new" Chinese restaurant that opened at the beginning of the year, specialising in Szechuan food. And there was a 10% discount for takeaway.
Pretty good deal? Read on.
I ordered a Szechuan spicy chicken. It's basically chicken with a Szechuan pepper and chilli vinaigrette. Very spicy. Salad like cold. I forgot about that last fact when I ordered, but that's ok, coz as long as it's good, I'll be happy.
Obviously, it wasn't.
There wasn't much wrong with the sauce. It was just...lackluster. But the big disappointment was the chicken.
The pieces--all pieces--were on the bone. There's nothing wrong with chicken served on the bone, as long as there's some good meat in each piece.
In my case, it was just bone. OK, maybe it did have some meat. But the meat was less than a third of the piece. Yup, 2/3 bone. Every piece. Fail #1.
But I paid good money - VERY good money (say, half a week of grocery money) for it. Waste not, right? You'd want to eat as much as you can so you get your money's worth, right?
Try eating a piece of chicken on the bone with the bone disintegrating in your mouth. Yeah, I'm not kidding: the bone crumbled. A small poke made the bone crack and break into at least 6 pieces. To the extent it was almost impossible to separate the meat from the bone. Fail #2.
Then there's the skin. It was supposed to be slightly gelatinous. It wasn't. I felt--and saw--the remnants of feathers still stuck on. Actually, there was a full feather still attached. Fail #3.
And to top things off, this cold dish was more than cold: a piece of chicken was actually still frozen. Fail #4.
4 fails. Bin time. A twinge of pain stung my heart as I disposed of the box and its contents, but there was no way I'd finish that. Not tonight, not ever. And I sure won't be getting anything from there again.

Small luxuries

Conpoy fried rice



Fried rice has got to be one of the easiest comfort food made with nothing more than leftovers and whatever happens to be in the pantry and fridge. Usually that'd be stuff like ham, carrots, peas, and pineapple... not quite what I wanted. Luckily, mother left me a small (but sufficient!) supply of conpoy, or dried scallops, proving once again: mothers really do know best.


The price of conpoy has soared significantly over the past few years. Not that it was ever cheap, of course; but it's not the kind of thing you'll need heaps of in any dish, anyway.

Fried rice is usually the last pre-dessert course in a multi-course Cantonese banquet, and conpoy fried rice is probably towards the high-end of middle-of-the-field. But the problem with restaurant versions of this dish is that they skimp on the conpoy. Massively. Which is definitely not the case when it's homemade.





Mmmmm.....conpoy.....



The massive conpoy chunks made for a great ol' load of umami goodness in the fried rice. Delicious was an understatement. The grains of rice popped, having soaked up the umami-filled conpoy soaking water, coated by a thin layer of egg white and accompanied by the chewy chunks of conpoy. A handful of finely chopped spring onion and a smidgeon of minced ginger rounded off the dish satisfactorily.



Rice-ripened persimmon

Dessert was a simple affair: a "water" ripe persimmon, served chilled. The first time I ate a full persimmon was 2 years ago, during a stay at an onsen-ryokan in Hakone. I'll never forget the taste: it was soft, sweet, and juicy, intermingled with jelly-like bits. It was mindblowing. And unbelievable.
And to this day, it is the only time I will eat persimmon. When they're overripe, bursting with watery goodness, and chilled beforehand.
It's quite hard to get this sort of persimmon on the market anywhere. In Hong Kong, the markets will occasionally have a few, wrapped up carefully in layers of fruit netting and styrofoam trays and glad wrap, to prevent any mishaps that could result in a burst--and thus non-merchantable--fruit. Here, though, I've only seen them available for sale as cheap, almost-past-use-by-date at discount prices. If that's not available, there's always the option of burying them in rice, until they resemble water balloons. Literally.


Conpoy Fried Rice (Serves 1)
1 dried scallop, soaked and steamed for 5 minutes
1 stalk of green onion, finely chopped
1/8 teaspoon minced ginger
2 teaspoons oil
2 egg whites, beaten
splash of shaoxing wine
salt, to taste
1/2 cup rice (preferably from the night before)


To prepare the compoy: in a small bowl, cover the dried scallop with boiling water and allow to soak until it has rehydrated and turns an opaque off-white. Steam the compoy for 5 minutes, or nuke in the microwave for 5 minutes, covered, with the water. Separate into strands, and remove any sinewy bits.


Heat the oil in a wok. Lightly fry off the ginger and green onion to release the fragrance. Add the rice, compoy, and a small amount of the soaking liquid. Toss until the liquid has evaporated, and the rice grains are no longer in clumps.
Beat the egg white lightly with a splash of shaoxing wine and a pinch of salt. Add the whites to the wok, tossing quickly to ensure the rice grains are covered by a thin coating of egg white. Season to taste. Serve immediately.

school dinnahz~

kimchi fried rice, cucumber and tomato salad with miso dressing, miso soup with tomato.

...well, not quite.

I'm back to living in a concrete box fitted only with one microwave, a gas stove with 2 burners (hardly enough) and very limited benchspace. Did I mention that the kitchen sink is literally just a single metallic depression with no plug for the drain? Yeah, it sucks.

But that's not quite enough to stop me from cooking altogether. There are always ways to work around these obstacles, like better meal planning and mise-en-scene (so no Julie from Masterchef-esque messes!). It does take a bit of adjustment, after 3 weeks of cooking in a kitchen with 5 burners, massive bench space and almost every kitchen utensil and ingredient I want at my fingertips.

It's not so bad. At least there's the freedom to cook (almost) anything I want, as long as it doesn't involve an oven. Or two large saucepans/pans/woks going at the same time.

I had leftover wonton fillings left from last night (which involved making 80 wontons, which are now frozen for those days I just can't be bothered to cook a proper meal) which had to be used in tonight's dinner or else it'd go bad. And letting food go bad is just not something I can allow. Making fried rice is just one way of using it up: other methods include steaming, making meatballs, or stir-fried with thin vermicelli noodles.

Kimchi fried rice

Serves 2

1 garlic clove, minced

A handful of kimchi, chopped roughly

2-3 tbsp leftover wonton filling

1 cup rice

1/2 tbsp vegetable oil

salt, to taste

dash of apple cider vinegar (optional)

sesame oil (not!optional)

sugar, to taste (optional)

Heat vegetable oil in a wok or frypan, then fry off garlic until the aromas are released. Add the leftover filling and saute until just cooked, then add the kimchi and saute. Add rice, and continue to stir-fry until all ingredients are well incorporated. Season with salt, vinegar, sesame oil and sugar to taste. Serve piping hot to hungry souls.

zumbo time!

The name Adriano Zumbo meant nothing to me until early this year, when my venture into the realm of food blogging brought page after page of photos and reviews of his "divinely" dessert creations. Talks of cakes, chocolate and macarons made me drool like a fool during my lonely himono onna* net surfing hours, and the Zumbo name refused to go away.

*himono onna: from the J-Drama Hotaru no Hikari, the term refers to young women who prefer to laze around at home, surfing the net, watching TV and reading manga than to go out with friends during their free time.


Cake Box, Adriano Zumbo

Nestled between a bottleshop and a chemist, the actual Zumbo patisserie is a narrow and long space, with just enough room for a shop assistant (or two), the cakes and a handful of customers at any one time: three is, at Zumbo's, definitely a crowd.

While pastries, croissants and bread feature, the cakes definitely steal the spotlight. Each one is an edible piece of artwork, seemingly careless yet deliberate in its execution, a simple, yet provocative both visually and in terms of taste. No sloppiness, no nonsense.


Sacher's sister Blanca

Like the blondie to the brownie, Blanca is the white chocolate and pear reinterpretation of the classic Viennese Sachertorte. The top layer of white chocolate ganache is creamy and vanilla-y, and unbelievably smooth. The sacher cake provides a lovely background for the white chocolate and pear notes, but to me the dark chocolate ganache is a stroke of genius. Where the other flavours are lovely and light, this packs a punch, providing the perfect contrast.



Upside down Cloud

I've been wanting to try out the Upside down Cloud ever since seeing the collection. A rework of the Zumbo classic, it is essentially a baked meringue pavlova with lemon curd, topped with devine sable dust. The lemon curd is what a lemon curd should be: smooth, rich, and very, very lemony. The meringue crust is crisp and melts in your mouth, the centre soft and slightly chewy. The sable dust rounds off the entire experience, with its buttery scent and grainy texture.


Miss Marple, deconstructed.

This is a dessert from the cafe menu. Maple and mascarpone filled crepes in orange butter, with strawberries and frozen orange jellies. While the crepes didn't have the "wow" factor I expected (it was too gooey and rich), the frozen orange jellies were surprisingly good. It was like eating shaved orange ice which slowly turned into a jelly as it melted in your mouth, before exploding and washing your tastebuds with freshly squeezed real orange juice.

While Zumbo is a little expensive (the cakes were around $7 each, and Miss Marple almost $14), they are worth their price. The quality of ingredients and the genius of the creations are unparalleled, each like a refreshing Murakami novel- the familiar is made unfamiliar through imagination, style, and execution. It is best shared with someone close to your heart: each cake is an experience that can, in itself, carry a full conversation, as well as being quite filling.

Pho

There's something comforting about a bowl of pho.


Thin slices of raw beef floating on top of rice noodles, topped with shallots and thin slices of onion in a rich beef stock... so simple, yet so utterly delicious.


That's when the fun begins.
Cooked or raw bean sprouts? Basil? Chili? Lemon? Each person has their own preferences, and the bowl of pho becomes more than just beef rice noodles. It becomes a reflection of the person who is eating it.
The purist would slurp it all down as is; the indecisive adding this and that every now and then. Then there are those who know exactly what they want, and others who like to experiment... and so emerges the endless possibilities of how pho tastes.
But, the core of it all remains constant, always the same: rice noodles, slices of beef, onion and shallots, in a full-bodied beef broth.
So, how do you like your pho?

lazy meals

Being a student isn't always fun. Being a student whose mind is not on books, but on what the next meal is, can be even less fun. But at least it can be yum.

It's that time of the semester again, and exams are upon most of us. Well, those of us unfortunate enough to have to worry about them. Hours of studying, gazing out the window, getting up for a drink (or two) then realising that there's no way you can stuff all three thousand pages of ...stuff... in your head in 24 hours. Then you realise you're hungry but can't be bothered to cook much and lo, behold, the kitchen is empty but for leftovers from God knows when, bacon, eggs, and rice. There's also passata, Worcestershire sauce, all sorts of soy sauce...but no BBQ sauce.

Oh. Right. That was--or should I say, is-- me. Haha.

But bacon. Eggs. Rice. And sauces.

Bacon and egg donburi.

Donburi, traditionally, is some sort of meat and other ingredients simmered together and served over rice. Gyudon, oyadon and katsudon are classic examples. Other times it can be just rice with toppings, with sauce or other condiments: think tendon, tekkadon, negitorodon, etc. So bacon and eggs over rice in a bowl with spicy tomato sauce can probably be classified as a donburi?