Archive for the ‘Malay Food’ Category

Domestic Science Class Recipes

Tuesday, June 7th, 2011

THIS tattered recipe book is almost 30 years, yes I am ancient. It was the first thing we had to do when we started our Sains Rumahtangga (SRT) or domestic science classin Form One. At that time, students were streamed into either Commerce or SRT. Traditionally the best students study commerce, and the weaker ones learn domestic science. Maybe the smart ones were being equipped with skills to conquer the commercial world, and the less bright ones are supposed to prepare for marriage and looking after the household.

The year that I entered Form One, my school decided that it was not such a great idea to segregate students like that – and they started a new policy whereby the first class did SRT, second class commerce, third class SRT…. you get the idea. Of course, the idea didn’t go down well with many students and parents, especially the top scorers. There was a flurry of furious parents in school that first week requesting that their daughters learn more useful stuff than domestic science… except for my father who was quite oblivious to how detrimental being deprived from learning to do accounts will have on my future.

I was 13, and I guessed I also didn’t care all that much… and besides, all the kiasu girls were gone. I had always helped at home, but it was a bit different learning domestic science formally. I think we learnt theory, and the practical classes were divided into cooking and sewing. I messed up the sewing big time, but the cooking classes were my favourite school periods. I loved the work stations – it was like playing masak masak but with proper tools. It was the one subject I didn’t have to study hard at.

I looked at the domestic science text book recently – my sister who is a teacher bought it for me last year – and realised that it was actually a good syllabus. We were taught different cooking methods, but at that time all I remembered was that I learnt to make food that we didn’t cook at home – rock buns, sago pudding, agar agar keminyan, kuih cara…. and of course sardine rolls. It was one of my favourite recipes from domestic science class – I thought it was most sophisticated to be able to make pastry.

For SRP (the equivalent of KBSM now?) we had to do up a menu and cook up a meal all on our own in three hours (I think). I remember I made a fish roll – fish paste rolled up in a thin omelette, and steamed. I thought it was pretty fancy…. I was probably not all that deluded because I scored A1 for my domestic science paper. Then, we all went on to form four and quickly got immersed in new subjects like chemistry and Add Maths (which I loved) and Physics (which I totally sucked at).

But I kept that recipe book, and scribbled more recipes in it. There were many years that I didn’t look at that book, but it was always tucked away at some shelf and I never had the heart to chuck it away. I made sardine rolls for our feature in Don’t Call Us Chef on road trip treats, and I found myself leafing through the book for other recipes to try. I was of course only limited by whatever ingredients I have at home because it was too hot and muggy an afternoon to go out shopping.

In the end, I decided to make cucur bawang, prawn and onions fritters. It wasn’t too bad, but I have had better fritters. And it got me thinking of corn fritters, Padang-style – I’ll post that recipe soon…. errrr, maybe later, considering how infrequently I blog now …. yeah, life is not as carefree as in those days when my biggest worry was if my teacher would scold me for my bad handwriting jotting down recipes.

RECIPE

Cucur Bawang

120g flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 egg
150ml water
160g prawns
1 onion, diced
2 chilli, diced
2-3 stalks spring onion
oil for frying

Sieve the flour, baking powder and salt into a bowl. Make a hole in the middle, and add the egg. Dilute the mixture with the water, and beat the batter well.
Add the prawns, onion, chilli, and spring onion. Mix well.
Heat the cooking oil, and spoon the batter in the wok.
Fry till golden brown.
Serve with chilli sauce.

Kelantan and Ayam Kuzi

Monday, October 18th, 2010

In recent years, rice has been much maligned.  So many friends I know are staying away from rice, and swearing that they feel so much better, and lighter. They are so disciplined they'd have only a few spoonfuls of rice, if at all they have rice. Some have even switched to brown rice.  

I have not been able to give up rice; I love it too much… have always and always will, long before carbohydrates got its bad name. As far as I am concerned, moderation is key. So, I eat my rice, and love it….though I have to think twice before I take a second helping these days.

So, it was really good to be in Kelantan, where people their rice unabashedly. There is so much variety of rice dishes, and they are all delicious. In KL and the rest of Malaysia, there is nasi lemak for breakfast. In Kelantan, there is nasi berlauk, nasi kerabu, nasi dagang, nasi tumpang, nasi kapit…..and the best are found here. 

My first stop on the way from the airport to my friend's house in Kota Bharu was for khau jan, nasi kerabu Thai-style at U-Lang Corner (4939-B, Jalan Wakaf Mek Zainab). It's different from Malay nasi kerabu – for one, the rice is green because it is cooked in an infusion of about 40 herbs. I have seen my friend's aunt make khau jan, and she picks the herbs from around her garden – one stem of this, and a few leaves of that. She knows how much of each herb to use, and it's not the easiest recipe to take down because my friend's aunt knows some of the herb's names by their Thai name only.

One of my favourite stalls in Kota Bharu is Mrs Foo's nasi dagang and nasi berlauk at Jalan Pejabat Pos Lama. It's changed location twice or thrice, but the stall has always been on this street. Some people like to ask for half nasi berlauk and half nasi dagang. You have the rice with lauk like beef curry, gulai ikan tongkol, vegetables, salted fish and sambal. Make sure you get a nice mix of the curries. When you get takeaways, Mrs Foo will pack the curries separately so that the rice doesn't get soggy from the gravy.

We were in Kota Bharu to visit our friend who moved here a year ago. They live in a kampung where they are the only non-Malay and non-Muslim family, and their neighbours have been most welcoming. Their house on stilts is so charming; made entirely of chengal wood, with a big backyard where the children can play freely. The best thing about this house is that it came with huge dry bathrooms, with a shower cubicle at one corner and walk-in closets.

Our friend is very much a part of the community here; neighbours drop by and share news. Kids ring their doorbell on the way back from school to say hello, and dutifully report to their parents about the going-ons in the neighbourhood. Neighbours generously share their pengat and kuih, and teach them about their food. Our friend said one of the first Kelantanese words they learnt was "tera" which means to try.

In the one year that she has been here, our friend has become well acquainted with Kelantanese food, and they know where to go. She has also learnt to cook nasi dagang from her neighbours, and her immediate neighbour who lives in a house built in 1957 made a real tasty jeruk buah.

Most people who have never been to Kelantan know it mainly as a PAS state. It's true that religion takes centrestage here; they play religious sermons over the loudspeakers here and all trading stop at the sound of the azan. Men and women queue up in separate cashier's lanes at the supermarket, and people are dressed conservatively here.

Kota Bharu is not a town to walk around in shorts and sleeveless tops, but it's no hardship to be respectful. The Kelantanese are definitely most friendly and happy to engage in conversations about everything from their unique dialect to ekok (seashell snacks), to explaining the rules of a bird singing competition to total strangers.

 

Last week, I was trying recipes from the cookbook Nik's Kitchen, which I was reviewing. But I found that there were a few recipes I couldn't try because it requires spice mixtures such as kuzi and kerutub, which are not commonly found outside of Kelantan. The author also recommended Wanita brand curry mixtures, which I was also not able to find in any of the hypermarkets in Kuala Lumpur.

So, I went to the famous Siti Khatijah market to stock up on the kuzi and kerutub spice powder, and the Wanita brand curry powder, and of course budu. Our friend's Kelantanese neighbours all have their own kuzi recipe; it's a popular dish in Kelantan and they serve it during weddings and festivals. With my kuzi rempah mix cap Wanita in hand, I tried the ayam kuzi recipe the day after I came back from Kota Bharu. I was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to make – there is no cutting and slicing of onions, ginger, garlic and all that. Apart from the kuzi spice mix, the other ingredients are tomato sauce and raisins.

It's a real tasty dish, and not hot at all, so children can eat this too. This recipe is definitely a keeper, and I think I'll be making it more than once. Only trouble is I only bought a packet of kuzi spice; yet another reason for a trip to Kelantan.

 

KUZI AYAM

(Adapted from Nik's Kitchen, recipes are from the collection of Nik Esah Nik Ahmad Kamil, daughter of Kelantan's former chief minister)

1 cup shallots, sliced thinly and fried till golden brown and crisp over low heat

3 cups cooking oil

1 chicken, cleaned and cut into medium pieces

3 chicken liver

3 chicken gizzard

3 tablespoon kuzi spice powder

3/4 of a 300g bottle of tomato sauce 

3 cups water

2 tbsp ghee

4 tbsp oil (taken from the oil used to fry chicken)

1/2 cup raisin

1 cup roasted cashew nuts (optional)

Heat the oil, and brown the chicken. Don't overcook as this will make the chicken meat tough. Set aside.

Clean and dice the liver and gizzard, and mix with kuzi spice, tomato ketchup and 2 tablespoons of water.

Heat a pot, and add the ghee and oil. Fry the liver and gizzard with the spice mixture over medium heat, stirring from time to time.

When fragrant, add raisins and fried shallots. Add the chicken, and stir to coat them  in the spice mixture. Add the rest of the water, and simmer for another 30 minutes.

Add cashew nuts (if using) and cook for another 5 minutes.

 

P/S: I cooked this kuzi ayam in my new Visions pot which I bought in the duty-free complex in Pengkalan Kubur, about 45minutes away from Kota Bharu.

Merdeka Open House: Kunyit Fried Chicken

Monday, August 30th, 2010

I wanted to take part in the Merdeka Open House party organised by babe in the city_kl, but I just couldn’t decide on what dish to post to fit the theme Food From Our Hearts.

It’s kind of a strange predicament because cooking and feeding people well are how my family express our love for one another. We don’t do gifts under the Christmas trees, but we sure know how to load a table with food and eat heartily.

Maybe that was why my grandmother was so insistent on us helping in the kitchen, and learning how to prepare meals. She grumbled about how she wouldn’t be able to bear the shame should my disapproving future mother-in-law were to complain about how coarsely we cut the vegetables or not fluff the rice.

So, we were trained from young to do all the mundane tasks, and do them properly – tailing bean sprouts, deskinning groundnuts, scaling fish, removing the pith of ginkgo nuts, peeling prawns…. One of my chores is pounding sambal and rempah mix in a mortar and pestle.

When I started out, I’d constantly be hounding my grandmother to ask if my mixture was fine enough. I’d even resort to dramatics and wrap my hands in plastic bags because the chillies burn my fingers. But my grandmother was merciless, and she made it my duty to pound the sambal belacan (red chillies and freshly toasted belacan, shrimp paste).

My grandmother taught me how to pound from side to side, and not directly into the middle of the mortar. The old folks could tell from the rhythm of the pounding if we were doing it correctly or not. She even made me stop to listen to our neighbour’s pounding, and focus on the rhythm.

Now that I am mistress of my own kitchen, I sometimes cheat and make my sambal belacan with an electric blender. But when it comes to fresh turmeric, I do the pounding on my pestle and mortar because it’s just too much work scrubbing the vivid yellow off the blades and blender. I also hear that fresh turmeric blunts the blades, so I use my mortar and pestle when it comes to turmeric.

It’s easy work pounding turmeric, compared to chillies or shallots. One of our favourite dishes at home is turmeric fried chicken. It’s a real easy dish because it is just chicken marinated with pounded turmeric and garlic, and seasoned with salt, soya sauce and sugar. You need to marinate it overnight, or for a few hours for the flavours to permeate.

You need to pound the turmeric to extract its flavours. If you use a food processor, it just cuts up the turmeric but it does not crush out the flavours. When I was in secondary school, I started teaching tuittion to earn extra pocket money. I’d cycle to the kid’s house in the evening, and by the time class ended it’d be dark. In those days, we were not so fearful of crimes but my mom would wait for me at a particular spot.

I was only truly frightened when I cycled past my neighbour Intan’s house – see, when their families wouldn’t sanction their realtionship she committed suicide with her boyfriend by lying down on the railway tracks and the train ran over them – they were only 15 or 16. I used to hang out at Intan’s house to read Malay entertainment magazines like URTV, so I cycled really fast every time I passed by her house.

Anyway, there was one year when my cousins started coming to my house for tuittion. That was great because I didn’t have to cycle out. First, there were only the twins and their elder sister. But soon all six siblings came for class. I am pretty sure I earned very little, like RM20/student per month. Soon, those tuittion sessions went from an hour and a half in the evening to a whole day affair on weekends.

The class would only be for an hour or so, and then the entire brood (my siblings and cousins) would troop down to the nearby public swimming pool, and later return to my parents’ home for dinner.

I remember all eleven kids sitting around the dining table, and the top request every week would be for kunyit chicken. My mom made it with pork belly too. But with pork, she stir-fries it rather than deep fries it. We like both versions, and the best part is the fried turmeric bits. When we have turmeric chicken, sometimes I think of how my parents were so welcoming of my cousins, and how the house would be crowded with 11 noisy kids. I think the food bill was much higher than whatever I earned from the tuittion, but my parents didn’t mind.

My mom used to buy an extra loaf of bread because we’d all have a supper of toasted bread with butter and kaya after class on weekdays…. I think we had them with cups of hot milo, and there were bread crumbs all over the table. We don’t see much of those cousins anymore, but I bet they still remember my mom’s kunyit chicken.

RECIPE

Kunyit Chicken (Turmeric Chicken)

200g fresh turmeric

4 cloves garlic

500g chicken, cut into medium pieces

3-4 tablespoons sugar, or according to taste

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon ground white pepper

2 cups cooking oil

Pound the turmeric and garlic. Marinate the chicken with the turmeric, garlic and the rest of the seasoning overnight, or for at least four hours. Heat the cooking oil in a wok. When the oil is hot, fry the chicken till it’s golden brown. Scoop up the turmeric bits before they burn because these are delicious.

Dip for Fried Fish

Sunday, May 9th, 2010

friedfish4

I like plain fried fish – marinated with salt and turmeric, or with salt and white pepper. It has to be fried right, and that means it must be crispy on the outside and moist inside, not bone dry.

I could happily have a plate of hot rice with just fried fish, with condiments like kicap manis and sambal belacan. But I like it most with this dipping sauce – a sweet-sour-salty-spicy dip made with sliced shallots, kalamansi lime juice, sugar, thick soya sauce and bird’s eye chilli.

friedfish2

This is the combination I like, but there are many other versions.
Some people use tamarind juice for the sourness, and some add carambola or belimbing buluh. Some people add toasted belacan (prawn paste) too, and some don’t use soya sauce.

I also like this dip with sambal belacan (red chillies pounded with toasted belacan). The best place to sample these dips is at the stalls selling grilled fish. My favourite dip the one served at Pak Din’s stall at the Jalan Tanglin food court at the Lake Gardens.

fish1

RECIPE

Dipping Sauce

5 shallots, sliced thinly
Juice from 6-8 calamansi lime
4-5 bird’s eye chilli, sliced thinly
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon thick soya sauce

Mix the shallots with the calamansi lime juice for at least ten minutes. Then, add the bird’s eye chilli, sugar and thick soya sauce. Mix well, and taste. Adjust the seasoning accordingly.

Daging Masak Kicap

Monday, April 12th, 2010

For the past two weeks or so, Marina Mustafa’s cookbook Memorable Recipes for Malay Occasions has been in my kitchen, as I was reviewing the book for StarTwo. I liked the book from the moment I flipped through the pages in Popular late last year, and had specifically asked for a copy to review. Check out the review here, with two recipes I tried out.

I am always on the look out for good local cookbooks, especially those on Malay cooking. I like Marina’s cookbook for many reasons, but mostly because it’s full of heart and charm. I was compelled to try many of the recipes, drawn by the stories behind them.

I chose a super easy recipe to test first. Some friends were coming for tea, and I made the ubi kayu bersantan partly because it was the writer’s favourite recipe. It was easy enough, and the santan sauce was delicious. I have always had steamed ubi kayu sprinkled with sugar and grated coconut, so this was a delightful change.

I tried the Nasi Tomato and Ayam Masak Merah the next day, and was a little confused by the recipes – the nasi tomato recipe didin’t specify the amount of tomato puree needed, and there was no chilli in the ayam masak merah recipe. But I had bought all the ingredients, plus I am kinda on a quest to find the right nasi tomato and ayam masak merah recipe.

I fiddled a little with the recipes, like use less ghee. A ladleful of ghee sounded too daunting and I used only 2 tablespoons.

So, it was not surprising that the one complaint I got was that the rice was not aromatic enough…”nasi tomato is supposed to be fragrant….this is not,” I was educated….ahem!

Midweek, I had a really good and enjoyable interview with Marina, and her beautiful mom and lovely daughter. They are the real deal; they are warm and generous and really passionate about their family, food and cooking. I always believe that the nicest people cook the nicest food, and was even more inspired to try out the recipes.

I then tried a kuih lapis recipe because it is an heirloom recipe, and it looks easy. Of course, nothing to do with baking is easy in my hands. I have a basic cake mixer that was part of the three or eight cheap cake mixer that a friend got as her wedding gift. So, when I beat my egg whites, it didn’t form into peaks _ I later YouTubed beating egg white till fluffy, and realise my beaten egg whites didn’t look anything like those in the video. Major #fail.

Anyway, my kuih lapis looks like a disaster, hence no pixs. But it tasted really delicious and moist. In the hands of an able baker, that recipe will work beautifully.

Anyway, I adjusted my confidence level and decided to try something easier last weekend… which means no kuih (because I have yet to recover from my kuih kosui attempts) and no baking.

So, I chose Marina’s family favourite – Daging Masak Kicap – a kinda Malay-style beef stew. I liked it because it used kicap manis, which I love. The recipe specifies salty soy sauce _ I wasn’t sure if that meant light or thick soy sauce, so I use a tablespoon of each.

I love the aroma of this stew – the house smelt of star anise, clove and cardamon. The stew was easy to make; basically it was just putting everything into the pot, and boiling them slowly. I also used carrots even though it wasn’t in the recipe because I had some in the fridge.

We usually have pork in soya sauce, which is thick soya sauce with garlic and white pepper, so this beef stew was a good variation. It’s a good dish to serve to children too, as there is potato and it’s not spicy. What I like most is how aromatic this stew is.

Marina’s book can be found at Popular Bookstore, and other leading book shops.

For more of Marina’s recipes, go to her page ”Cooking With Marina Mustafa” on Facebook, or visit her blog http://cookingwithmarina mustafa.vox.com.

RECIPE

DAGING MASAK KICAP

Ingredients

1kg lean beef, cubed
2 cinnamon sticks
8 cloves
8 cardamons
2 star anise
2 potatoes (deskinned, cut into 4)
2 tomatoes (cut into 4 wedges)
1 cup sweet soy sauce
2 tbsp salty soy sauce
1 tbsp black pepper
1 tsp salt

Blend

10 bulbs shallots
6 cloves garlic
1 inch ginger

Boil the water in a pot, together with the blended ingredients and spices.
As soon as the water boils, reduce the heat and put in the beef. Cook for 30 minutes, covered.
Add the potatoes.
Pour in both the soy sauces and the seasoning.
When the potatoes have cooked, and the beef tender, put in the tomatoes. Turn off the heat.
Eat with hot rice when ready. Perfect if eaten with your fingers!

My Wonky Kuih Keria

Monday, March 1st, 2010

donut5

The theme for this month’s StarTwo column is kuih, and we all found it so challenging. All the recipes we found in cookbooks do not work, and in the end the best source was cooks who are familiar with making kuih.

It’s a real shame because it means that most of us will probably know how to bake cakes and pies and cookies, but not kuih. The word kuih is often translated as local cakes, and that is in essence what it is. We don’t use butter and cream, but kuih making is all about turning local ingredients into the most delicious desserts.

The ingredients for kuih are from plants that grow abundantly in the backyard like sweet potatoes, tapioca, bananas and taro; flavoured with coconut and palm sugar, and fragranced with pandan leaves.

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In the hands of an expert, these ingredients come together perfectly balanced in delightful morsels that are soothingly sweet and lemak. The texture of the kuih should be fine, and its sweetness and richness never cloying (tak jelak).

Most traditional kuih – whether Malay or Peranakan – use rice flour as its main ingredient. I remember the big stone grinder in the kitchen of the prewar ancestral home in Penang that my aunt lives in. Her late mother-in-law made Nyonya kuih to sell in the market, and my aunt was the only daughter-in-law who learnt the art from her.

One of the most back-breaking task must have been the grinding of the rice to be made into flour. Later, they upgraded to an electric grinder, and now they buy the rice flour in sacks.

Even with the help of machines (and more recently hired help with the intake of Indonesian maids), making nyonya kuih is a laborious task.

When we were kids, I remembered that my cousins didn’t get much free time to play. All hands were needed in the kitchen because there were so many chores – cleaning, cutting and laying the banana leaves, washing the teacups for the huat kuih and kuih kosui, moulding the ang koo, washing trays, arranging the kuihs… etc etc etc.

Then, my aunt seemed formiddable…I suppose she had to be stern because I was always trying to distract my cousins, and when I tried to help I probably just created more errors to be undone (like flattened ang ku because I didn’t know how to unmould it). In hindsight, I guess my aunt was just plain tired, all the time.

But at least she enjoyed the fruits of her labour, going for holidays overseas every year. Her favourite destination: USA.

While my grandmother was around, we had kuih often at home. They were not pretty dainty Nyonya kuih, but more like home-made kuih she rustled out quickly and efficiently. She made steamed ubi kayu with grated coconut, or deep-fried potato balls. There were also pulut inti, and yam cake, and kuih bengka, and sago with grated coconut. And coating everything from banana to ubi keledek to cempedak to nien gao with batter, and deep-frying them was another quick way to make kuih.

Making kuih kosui reminded me of those afternoon teas. It’s somehow not the same making kuih for 2 persons to eat, and it doesn’t seem worth the effort when there is so many left on the plate.

Still, I wanted to try and make kuih, if nothing else because I remembered it as being effortless. So, without referring to a cookbook, I made kuih keria – sweet potato doughnut – from memory.

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I boiled the sweet potatoes, mashed them up, and added sugar and flour. Then, I shaped them into doughnuts – but because I am so rusty from lack of practice (and I was rushing because I wanted to watch American Idol), my kuih keria is knobbly and wonky.

Then, I deep-fried them, and rolled them around in sugar.

They are ugly, but they taste like how kuih keria is supposed to taste like … and I love them so much more than Krispy Kreme. And American Idol is so boring, I should have taken the time to do my kuih keria properly!

And when I was cutting up the sweet potatoes, I also thought of sweet potato balls, and boiled sweet potatoes in palm sugar syrup and old ginger (I swear I could smell it in my head).

Duck Eggs

Wednesday, January 20th, 2010

My late grandmother used to rear ducks in her backyard. We never went near them; they were stinky and noisy. But we knew that their eggs were good. Each time we visit, I’d always ask for her onion egg omelette, and it’s still one of my favourite dishes.

On Chinese New Year, the family would gather in my grandma’s house and everyone would be gambling. There were tables for adults, and sessions for the kids to slay indulgent uncles (if the kids lose, the uncles would return the money). In short, no one wanted to cook.

So, we all go round the corner to pack char keow teow for everyone – 15-20 packs. And in typical Penang fashion (in those days), we brought our own eggs. We brought duck eggs for our char keow teow, though I can’t recall if we ever had enough for everyone.

teluk itik masak lemak cili padi

It was considered a treat for duck eggs are richer, and more delicious.

In Bukit Mertajam, Penang, there is a char keow teow stall famous for using duck eggs. The stall is a stand-alone on a dark-ish street, but the hawker does non-stop business. His char keow teow is different from the more famous Penang one; he uses lard and duck eggs to fry his char keow teow and that is a lethal combination. For the ultimate indulgence, order a duck egg sunny side up doused with the uncle’s yummy soya sauce.

Yet, I have never bought duck eggs. For one thing, I hardly see them or maybe I have just not been looking.

teluk itik masak lemak cili padi

On a recent trip to the market in Raub, Pahang, duck eggs caught my eyes. And when an aspiring chef among us asked the makcik selling it for the teluk itik masak lemak (duck egg with coconut milk) recipe, it got me interested. That young culinary student went back to the Raub resthouse and cooked the dish, and it was so delicious.

I went back to the market and bought 5 duck eggs – they are 60cents each, but they are bigger than chicken eggs. It took a few weeks before I got around to cook the cili masak lemak, and now I wondered why I waited so long.

Masak lemak cili padi is a Negeri Sembilan Minang specialty, and always gets my mouth watering. I like it with daging dendeng, fish with buah bacang and chicken. Duck egg is another good pairing because it can hold its own along the richness of the santan and the heat of the cili padi.

I used 10 chilli padi for my two duck eggs, and it was way too hot for me. My lips was literally burning by the middle of the meal, but I couldn’t stop piling on more rice so I could have more of the gravy. My lips actually felt swollen, and I actually had vanilla ice cream to cool down…but I am not complaining. Just warning that a few chilli padi actually goes a long way, or maybe I am just a wooz…oh well :=)

teluk itik masak lemak cili padi

TELUR ITIK MASAK LEMAK CILI PADI

RECIPE

6 cili padi, or more according to your tolerance for chilli

2-3 shallots

turmeric, 1 inch

1 lemon grass, crushed

Thick coconut milk, from 1 coconut

2 kaffir lime leaves, optional

2 duck eggs

salt, to taste

Blend/pound the cili padi, shallots and turmeric until fine.

Put the blended ingredients in a pot with the lemon grass and coconut milk, and cook gently over a slow fire. Let it come to a boil gently so the coconut milk does not curdle.

When the mixture is bubbling, break the egg one by one into a ladle and gently lower it into the pot without breaking the yolk.

Remove from heat when the eggs are cooked.

Serve with hot rice, and lots of ice water.

YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE:

Sambal Ikan Bilis With Belimbing Buluh

Sambal Cili Merah – Padang-Style

Sambal Ijo – Padang-Style

Solo Mango

Monday, October 19th, 2009

mango kerabu2

Everyone else’s tree branches are weighed down with clusters of mangoes in my neighbourhood, but I could only count three fruits on my tree. One was stolen; the other is too high up for me to reach and so there was only one left. Being kiasu, I plucked it last Sunday before someone else got to it.
It was not fully ripe yet, so I left it on the kitchen counter. I think I am supposed to leave it in the rice bin to ripen, but I never got around to doing that.
While cleaning out the fridge, I found calamansi limes and cili padi that were fast turning yellow and black.
So, I decided to make mango kerabu, with my precious mango and wilting limes, chillies and coriander leaves. My mum makes hers with some bunga kantan and dried shrimps too.
The mango turned out to be perfect for the kerabu – it was not too sweet with a nice sourish edge.
I finished the mango kerabu, all on my own!

MANGO KERABU

RECIPE

2 shallots. sliced thinly
2 bird’s eyes chilli, sliced
2 stalks coriander leaf, chopped coarsely
I mango, peeled and sliced in matchsticks

Dressing

Juice from 5 calamansi lime
1 tablespoon of sugar
1 tablespoon of fish sauce

Leave the shallots and birds eye chilli in the dressing for about 10 minutes.
Then, add the mango and coriander leaf.
Toss to mix evenly.

Belimbing Buluh

Saturday, October 17th, 2009

The first time I had belimbing buluh was in a Malay coffee shop in Jasin, Melaka. It was a sambal dish with bits of belimbing buluh, and I must have had two or three helpings of rice just so I can have more of the sambal.

The next time I had it was also in Malacca, in a Chitty household. We were doing a feature on Chitty cuisine, and we got to try a shrimp and fish roe pindang with whole belimbing buluh. Again, it was the belimbing buluh that I couldn’t have enough of. There was tamarind in the pindang gravy, but it was the belimbing buluh that gives the dish a nice lift. Cooked in the gravy, the fruits have absorbed all the flavours of the dish (the sweetness of the shrimps and the richness of the coconut milk and spices). By then, its sourness has been somewhat tempered, but the belimbing buluh whets the appetite.

Belimbing buluh is also known as belimbi. It looks more like a miniature cucumber than a starfruit as there are no discernible ridges. It’s green and ripens to yellow. The fruit is sour, and when cooked it becomes soft and soaks up flavours really well.

It is also salted and pickled. Pickled belimbing buluh are used as a substitute to tamarind.

The Chitty lady gave me a bag of belimbing buluh, plucked from her garden, but they all turned bad before I got around to experimenting with them.

For awhile, I had fantasies of planting my own belimbing buluh tree… never mind that I have only started now to plant some mint and daun kesum in my smallest patch of a garden.

So, I was delighted to find a belimbing buluh tree in my neighbour’s backyard. I am never home, and they never opened their back door. So, I have not gotten around to asking for their belimbing buluh. I did pick up some fruits that fell on the back lane, but they go bad real quickly.

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Last week, on a trip to the Raub market, I found jeruk belimbing buluh (which won’t go bad). The cook at a makan shop taught what to do with the jeruk belimbing buluh, and I tried it on Friday. It doesn’t look pretty, but it tastes good – salty-sourish.

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The instruction was to fry ikan bilis and set aside. Then, cut up some shallots and chili padi, and blend. Then, tumis the shallots and cili padi until fragrant, and add belimbing buluh and some gula melaka. Then, add the fried ikan bilis. The jeruk belimbing buluh gives a nice tang to the dish, and I found myself adding more of it after two bites.

Does anyone know where to find belimbing jeruk in Kuala Lumpur?

The recipe is below.

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Ikan Bilis With Jeruk Belimbing Buluh

5-6 shallots
12 cili padi
2 tablespoons of cooking oil
3 tablespoons of jeruk belimbing buluh
2 tablespoons of gula melaka, or to taste
100g ikan bilis, deep fried

Blend the shallots and cili padi.
Heat the cooking oil, and fry the blended ingredients until fragrant.
Then, add the jeruk belimbing buluh and gula melaka
Fry over medium heat, and then add the ikan bilis.
Mix everything evenly.
Serve with rice

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