This is one of my favourite curries – salted fish and vegetables curry, with beans and anchovies. It’s only served on Sundays at the Sultania Restaurant on Lebuh Queen, right smack in Penang’s Little India. I have only had it twice or maybe thrice; somehow my trips back to Penang haven’t allowed for all that many Sunday lunches at this restaurant. But I can tell from the first taste that this is good curry – better even than the Nyonya salted fish curry we are more familiar with. The saltiness of the salted fish lends depth and an earthiness that is deeply satisfying, and the vegetables (turnips, brinjals, tomatoes) absorbs the flavours and  its different textures add contrast. I love the beans too, and they use at least two different types.

This dish is an Indian-Muslim dish that is a home staple, but it was only when my former colleague Faridah Begum featured that recipe in her column that it occurred to me to try cooking it at home. Even then, I procrastinated for months. There is a long list of ingredients, for one thing. And of course it finally took a deadline for me to get my act together, and attempt to recreate this curry for an article on Indian-Muslim food in Penang.

I tried buying the ingredients in a hypermarket, but it was impossible to get salted fish bones – yup bones, not whole salted fish. I also couldn’t find mochokotai (that’s Tamil for butter beans), plus I didn’t know what they look like or taste like. So off to the wet market I went with my colleague and friend Mumtaj and her mother. They are regulars at the biggest wet market in KL, in Pudu. I tagged along on their weekly marketing trip, and Mumtaj’s mother took me to the Indian provision shop to get my mochokotai. Then, we went looking for the salted fish bones, and there were plenty for sale and they weren’t dry and dark like the ones in the hypermarket.

I actually like going to the Pudu Market, even though we are at the mercy of the elements in this open air market and there are puddles to navigate on its uneven grounds. There is always lots to buy, and the market folks are friendly. I just don’t remember to shop at the markets anymore, now that the hypermarts are so conveniently close and accessible.

Back home, I soaked the salted fish bones, sliced onions and chillies, and cut up the vegetables. It’s not a difficult dish to make, just a long list of ingredients to assemble. Once the preparation was done, it was all just a matter of slowly boiling everything till the oil floated to the top, and the beans were cooked. My curry is not as good as Sultania’s, but this recipe is definitely a keeper. It actually became more delicious the next day as the flavours developed and intensified. With its salty spicy combination, it’s a moreish dish, and you could be piling on the rice just so you could have more of the curry. Fortunately, I am not averse to carbo… maybe it’s time again for another pot…

RECIPE

Salted Fish Curry

• 2 tbsp vegetable oil
• 1 tbsp fenugreek seeds
• 2 sprigs curry leaves
• 2 onions, sliced
• 1 clove garlic
• 5 green chillies, halved and seeded
• 100g fish curry powder
• 2 tomatoes, cut into 6 wedges each
• 300-400g salted fish bones, soaked for 30 minutes
• 50g ikan bilis, washed and drained
• 100g butter beans (or mochokotai in Tamil)
• 1 radish, cut into wedges
• 2 round brinjals, cut into 4 wedges each
• 1/2 cup thick tamarind juice
• 1 cup thick coconut milk
• Water

Method
Heat the oil and sauté the fenugreek seeds, onions and curry leaves.

Add the garlic, green chillies and fish curry powder.

Stir until fragrant.

Add all the salted fish bones and ikan bilis, and then the beans and vegetables.

Then add the tamarind juice and coconut milk, and enough water to cover the ingredients.

Bring the curry to a slow boil, and let it simmer slowly for about 40 minutes, or until the beans are cooked.

Serve with hot rice.

Some day I’ll bake soft and fluffy buns like these – and I’ll do it without breaking a sweat… like my friend and breadmaking teacher Indra.

In the few hours of lesson I had in her kitchen, Indra has somehow convinced me I can bake bread. With the most reassuring and inspirational confidence, she made me knead my dough, shaped it and baked a sandwich loaf. Then, with the thoroughness of a passionate baker, she demonstrated two other different types of bread to make with that basic dough. It’s a pretty heady experience seeing all those loaves coming out of the oven, and the aroma of baking bread is something special.

It has taken a long time for this bread bug to bite…despite being witness to how Indra and Jane have taken on breadmaking with such enthusiasm. They even have an artisanal (it’s the buzz word these days) sandwich business, Crazy Juliet, and it’s the real deal where the breads are homemade and handmade. Flavours magazine call them the sandwich craftsmen.

So, for the longest time, I have merely glanced through the bread postings on their respective blogs because they looked so daunting. It’s also because my attempts at breadmaking have failed miserably. I tried making bread with my Magimix because I had seen someone make buns using the dough paddle. And even though I followed the bread recipe on the Magimix recipe book, all I got was a mess. So, I left breadmaking to the experts, and was content to help myself to their offerings.

But Indra kept saying it’s easy to bake bread, and somehow it led to a morning of kneading and watching bread dough rise in her kitchen.

My favourite bread from Indra’s breadmaking class is the focaccia. I love focaccia, and it’s pretty amazing to see how easy it was to make it. Last year we (Indra and I, but separately) went to Cinque Terre in Italy where focaccia is the local specialty. There were trays and trays of focaccia with all kinds of toppings in all the bakeries. Of all the three breads I learnt to make, it’s the focaccia that I like the most because I can pull it off, I love trying out different toppings, and my daughter loves it.

And just maybe baking focaccia reminds me of that wonderful Italian holiday where we ate so well, and of how enamoured I was with how beautiful Cinque Terre is. Some day, I’d like to go back and spend more days staring out into that beautiful blue sea and listen to the waves and seagulls, and enjoy leisurely meals of delicious pasta, bread and wine.

Meanwhile, I’ll just bake focaccia in my kitchen. I have made focaccia with sun-dried tomatoes and rosemary, garlic and rosemary, and one with black olives which I burnt. It has been a week since my baking class with Indra, and I have been obsessively kneading dough almost every day trying to get the method right. The dough still sticks to my hands, but it rises. I am even watching YouTube videos of kneading, and I am stalking Indra‘s blog. And I bug her with questions, and whatsapp her pictures of dough in various stages at all hours.

I think I can bake bread!

I can’t say this every year, but this has been a wonderful time of the year for us. We had two leisurely holidays with our family almost back to back, and let’s just say our feasting started way before Christmas. And it was really good to come back to KL, and smack into the rounds of dinners and parties with friends. And of the many images of Christmas I was glancing through, the photograph of chewy caramel sweets caught my eyes… and it was a treat that I immediately liked and that I was sure my friend Ann Marie would like too (and I wanted to impress and surprise her :-p).

So, one evening, because there is a hiatus in regular tv programmes in the US and therefore no shows to download and watch, I did something productive. I read maybe five caramel recipes online, and in the end followed the recipe on thekitchn.com because there were step-by-step photos. I didn’t have a candy thermometer, but that problem was easily resolved by googling and YouTubing alternative methods. I even had to google how to line a baking tray, but I have reconciled with my inferior baking skills. One morning last week, I found my daughter eating my fruitcake (two attempts in a fortnight) with a teaspoon because it was crumbly… oh well.

But I can do caramels. It didn’t even require strenuous stirring; all I had to do was watch the pot like a hawk – and there were photographs to refer to to gauge if I was getting it right. The only thing I didn’t like was cutting the caramel because my fingers got sticky real quick, which meant I was washing my hands every five minutes. Next time I’ll wear gloves. But that was the only glitch. The caramels were fun to wrap and decorate with festive ribbons and ties.

These caramels are definitely crowd pleasers, and good to bring to parties. And though I think I don’t have a sweet tooth, I am now a caramel-lover.

Happy New Year, and may your 2013 be full of wonderful sweet treats! Have a great year <3

Once in awhile I need a lazy day in the middle of the week when I don’t have to be anywhere at any time… like the day after we are home after being away on a long trip. The suitcases are still by the front door, unlocked with dirty laundry tucked away. The vacation responder on email is still on, so no one calls. We are still groggy from sleeping in, and it’s too much of an effort to leave the house to buy food. Besides, we are still in our pyjamas.

But the stomach still growls on lazy days, and so I make the simplest meal – porridge.

We had just come back from a holiday in Cha Am, Thailand where all I wanted for breakfast was seafood porridge that was so delicious because the seafood was so fresh. On our last day, the hotel kitchen didn’t serve porridge because their supply of seafood hadn’t arrived. So, I walked out and bought chuk – thick gruel with seafood that came with half-boiled eggs. It was way better than toast with eggs and sausages. So, I was kinda craving for seafood porridge.

I made mine with prawns, squid and fish. And I have to have the works – garlic oil, ginger and spring onion, plus a dash of sesame oil. My seafood was not fresh though – they had been in the freezer for awhile – and in porridge you could tell immediately. But it was still what I wanted to eat that morning.

And I know exactly how my daughter wanted her porridge because my aunt has reminded me enough times. It’s one of her favourite dishes, and my aunt makes it often for her. It has to be made only with fish, and there must not be any additional bits like spring onion or sliced ginger. And to make sure my daughter is not deprived, my aunt has recited the recipe to me many many times.

Soak the rice for half an hour. Drain, and add a tablespoon of oil and half a teaspoon of salt. Pour boiling water in the pot till it covers the rice and then some. Bring to a boil, and then bring to a slow simmer.

Meanwhile, fry a few slices of ginger and when fragrant, fry the fish slices lightly.

Remove and add the ginger and fish into the porridge three minutes or so before it’s ready.

Cook it according to the consistency you like for your porridge.

Note: It’s not necessary to fry the fish, but the porridge is much more aromatic when you do. I fry my fish, but not the other seafood. If you use prawns and squid, add them in five minutes before the porridge is ready.

I like my porridge with garlic oil, which you make by saute-ing chopped garlic in oil over slow fire.

My mother likes her porridge with cooked rice, and that’s even quicker to make. I just have to make my seafood porridge with fresh seafood next time, or go on another holiday in Cha Am.

But on a lazy rainy stay-in nap-all-afternoon day, seafood porridge made from whatever I have in the freezer is just fine.

We had just come back from a week’s holiday to Thailand, and of course we had a great time. This was my third trip to Bangkok this year, and I wasn’t fully looking forward to it. The previous two trips were rushed work trips, and I had a hard time figuring out why I had loved Bangkok before. The city just seemed too busy, too congested, too chaotic. It still feels that way this trip… but I was way more relaxed and surrounded by my family. My mother held tight to my daughter, my brother planned everything, my Thai sister-in-law knew the best food to eat, my sister was always quick to pay for everything (hehe…) – so all I had to do was try to not cough my lungs out (flu and cold from Malaysia).

It’s of course easy to eat well in Thailand. Cheap tasty food abounds on the streets, and in the malls, and on the beaches.
One of my favourites has to be the iced coffee in 7-11, and in the mornings coffee made with fresh milk from the coffee stalls on the streets.
I also like papaya salad, som tam, although I can’t brave the local version – mine is always with only one chilli. So, my sister-in-law and niece have theirs full-throttle and burning hot, and they order a mild one for me.
My mother and daughter were also quick to love the pancakes from the stall. The most popular pancake is made with banana, fried with loads of margarine, and sloshed with condensed milk.

What I like most are the noodles – beef, pork, duck, fishballs – I didn’t care as long as I get to add my condiments of fish sauce, (tiniest bit) of chilli powder, vinegared chilli and sugar. I had noodles obsessively for a few days till I suddenly craved for rice.

One late afternoon in the seaside town Cha Am, we walked around looking for a proper eating place where we could order rice and dishes – with our very grumpy mother who wasn’t amused we had “starved” her grand-daughter (never mind that she had a full beakfast and opted to skip lunch under the beach umbreallas because she had to sit on the beach and let the waves washed over her for hours).

On the first evening in Bangkok, we had this tasty dish of lala cooked with basil leaves. With that flavour in mind, I ordered chicken with basil, and told the waiter no chilli. My threshold for hot food is pretty low these days, but it was a mistake forgoing chilli in Thai dishes. We pretty much left that dish untouched. And in typically obsessive fashion, I had to order rice with chicken basil (with chilli) for dinner to cancel out that unappealing dish. Chicken with basil only works with chillies, and of course birds eye chillies.

Part of my post-holiday blues includes missing Thai food, and I wanted more of that chicken with basil. Plus I have a few Thai basil plants in my garden that I haven’t really cooked with. I also like the idea of trying out more one plate dishes for meals at home, as I tend to cook way too much because I don’t know how to cook for one or two. So, for our Saturday lunch, I made a rice and basil chicken dish for me, and a teriyaki chicken for my daughter. I love the fragrance and taste of Thai basil, and how easy it was to make this dish, so this recipe could very well be a keeper. The teriyaki chicken is good too but that’ll be for another post.

RECIPE

1 tablespoon cooking oil

2 cloves garlic, chopped finely

1 shallot, chopped finely

4-5 birds eye chillies, or according to taste

1 chicken thigh, deboned and cut into bite sizes

1 teaspoon oyster sauce

1 teaspoon soy sauce

I tablespoon fish sauce

1/4 teaspoon sugar

a handful basil leaves

Heat the cooking oil, and saute the chopped garlic and shallot.

When fragrant, add the chicken and stir.

Then, add the seasoning, and stir. Add a little water if the mixture is too dry.

Stir-fry, and add the basil leaves.

Check the seasoning, and adjust accordingly.

Serve with rice.

This dish - tau eu bak (soya sauce braised in soy sauce) is always a crowd pleaser. Most people I know like dish this very, very much. It’s comfort food at its best – belly pork slowly braised till tender, with layers of fat that melt in the mouth, in a light gravy flavoured with soy sauce and enriched by the pork, and with the barest whiff of garlic. My mother makes this often, and serves  it with rice and porridge. She always adds hard-boiled eggs, and sometimes potaoes or bean curd puffs.

It wasn’t my favourite dish.
I was into curries, and whenever she cooked tau eu bak, it meant there’d be no curry on the table.
I only ate this if there was sambal belacan as accompaniment, and maybe go fry an egg for myself.

But then we all grow up, and have to leave behind those blissful days of sulking at the table because the meal was not to our liking.
Now, it’s my turn to cook, and please the people I cook for.
And they of course like tau eu bak.
I did the smart thing – asked my mom to cook it for us to take home virtually every trip back to Penang.
She’d make me stand behind her as she cooked this dish, repeating all the while how she didn’t understand why I couldn’t make such an easy dish.
“See, it’s the easiest thing to cook. I make this all the time,” she’d say.
I now suspect she didn’t notice all the times I said I hated tau eu bak (emotions are extreme when you are a kid).
Could that be possible? But then again, I spent many Sundays (for years) sulkily munching on white bread because I hated porridge, and they blithely ignored me and continued with porridge lunches on Sundays.
Oh well…

I didn’t attempt to make this for the longest time, and my first few attempts didn’t turn out so well. But there was no ignoring how my daughter is partial to this dish, and the ones we have eaten outside were too diluted and the pork not nearly tender enough. So I cook this often now too, because it’s actually really easy (it’s true).
And my friend Niki loves this – the first meal we had on a trip to Malacca (where we ate ourselves silly) was to a Chinese shop where everyone was wolfing down rice with tau eu bak mixed with curry chicken gravy, and Niki swore it’s the best meal ever. And since I have been neglecting my duty of posting recipes he can cook far away in London, I am posting this recipe because this dish would be perfect for cold winters.
And also because this is Jason‘s favourite dish too.
Still not mine – in case anyone’s interested to know. And I still need sambal belacan with my tau eu bak.

RECIPE

1 tablespoon of oil
2-3 cloves garlic, smashed
600g pork belly (must have the layer of fat), cut into small even chunks
1 tablespoon dark soy sauce
3 tablespoons light soy sauce
1 teaspoon ground white pepper
1 teaspoon sugar
1 litre water
salt, to taste (and if you need it)
3-4 hard-boiled eggs

In a pot, heat the oil and saute the garlic till fragrant.
Add pork belly, and stir till the fat seeps out, over medium heat.
Add the soy sauces, ground white pepper and sugar, and stir over high heat, for 5 minutes.
Turn down the heat to medium. Add water. Let it come to a slow boil.
Then turn down the heat to low, and let it simmer for between 45mins to an hour, or until the meat is tender to your liking.
Ten minutes before it’s done, add the hard-boiled eggs.

Note: Even though the stew doesn’t look like it’s dark enough, don’t add more soy sauce in the beginning. It’ll darken as the meat braises slowly, and the soy sauce and sugar caramelises. If you want the sauce to be thicker, braise it with the lid open. You’ll know it’s almost done by its aroma. And when you have cooked this enough times, you could even tell what seasoning to add more of by its aroma.

I reconnected with some old friends from my Convent schooldays – they were girls I went to primary and secondary school with, and we grew up together in stuffy pinafores and read Nancy Drews, and played through endless recess times. So it’s strange how we drifted apart so completely – at least I did, and I hardly kept in touch with friends from that period. Many were close friends, and yet my closest and oldest friendship started from university, not from those schoolgirl days. If only they had Facebook then…

Those girls are now grown women, with children and husband and flung in different corners of the world. I recognised them immediately on FB, though I suspect I could have passed them on the streets with no inkling of our connections. I didn’t think I’d ever forget things, but some memories are vague and I only have snatches of impressions from those days. It really seemed like a different lifetime ago.

I was also struck by how 25 years have just gone by, and we are all now in our 40s. That means we are old, though I don’t feel how I thought an older person is supposed to be… sure, I am all responsible and sensible (ahem), but probably not as wise as I should be, and still not quite settled, and just a little restless still…

The one person who wouldn’t think I am old is my mother… she still thinks she needs to cook for me, and pack for me ingredients to stock up my fridge every time I go home. There’ll be fish (it’s fresh), pork ribs (for nourishing soups), prawns (for fried rice on nights I work late). There’ll also be dried stuff like black fungus, herbs, lily’s bud, mushrooms. And she’ll always ask if I need to replenish my stock of five spice powder. I have never bought five spice powder in KL; my mother always buys them for me and it has to be from a Chinese medical hall.

Five spice powder is a mix of star anise, cloves, cinnamon, Sichuan pepper and ground fennel seeds. It’s red in colour and lends its disctinctive aroma to Chinese food. In our kitchen, we use it mostly to marinate pork and chicken. It’s an essential ingredient in lor bak (meat rolls), and my favourite fried chicken recipe is the one simply marinated with a dash of five spice powder, light soy sauce, white pepper and a little sugar.

My favourite recipe using five spice powder is for pan-fried pork chop; it tastes a little like char siew but it’s a so much more simpler version. You just need to buy belly pork with a layer of fat, and marinate it overnight. Then, it’s just a matter of pan frying them. You could roast it too, but pan frying gives it nice crispy edges. Then, slice thinly and serve up. With the five spice powder, this is a very aromatic dish.

RECIPE

600g pork belly, cut into strips
1 teaspoon dark soy sauce
1 tablespoon light soy sauce
1/2 teaspoon ground white pepper
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon five spice powder
3 tablespoon cooking oil

Marinate the pork with the rest of the ingredients, except the oil, overnight.
Heat the oil in the pan over medium heat and pan fry, turning it over after 5-7 minutes.
Leave for 10 minutes before slicing it.

WHEN my friend and former colleague Niki told me he wanted recipes so he can cook his own meals as he’d be a poor student in London, I didn’t take him all that seriously. I didn’t think he’d actually cook regularly, partly because he was never that keen a cook, and partly because I have never cooked regularly in my life. I am strictly a weekend cook, and was always fortunate enough to have either my mother or my aunt cook for me on weekdays. I don’t remember what I ate during my university days, probably loads of mixed rice and instant noodles with an egg.

But Niki has just told me this morning that he cooks six to eight meals a week, and he needs more variety… and I have only given him two recipes. So, out of guilt, I am posting this recipe without being distracted by the ten other “important” things I think I should attend to instead of sitting down to upload pics and write an entry. It’s almost 7pm in KL anyway, which means I’d only be sitting in a traffic jam and feeling suicidal/homicidal.

This is soy sauce chicken, a common homecooked dish, and there are many versions. My mother’s soy sauce chicken is with thick slices of old ginger and the lightest of soy sauce. Mine is with julienned young ginger and diced onions, and a thick sauce. I like both versions, but I of course cook the one my daughter likes best which is the latter. It’s almost comfort food, and nicer the following day. It’s good with rice, and stir-fried greens. I like brocolli, so here are two recipes to make up for a month of tardiness.

But while I was not blogging, I was living my life :-P (that’s just going to work, watching fireflies in Kuala Selangor, taking a friend to Penang and feeding him properly, adoring my nieces, putting up a precious painting of C by a friend, putting up a hammock chair, and going broke cos I had to change my car tires and bought shoes (that cost two tires) and new (second-hand) lens that I am loving.) Ok, I am broke and we have to eat at home for the next 20 weekends, and this dish will definitely be on the menu.

RECIPE

SOY SAUCE CHICKEN

Cut a chicken into medium pieces, and marinate with a tablespoon of soy sauce, a teaspoon of dark soy sauce, a tablespoon of oyster sauce, a tablespoon of sugar and half a teaspoon of ground white pepper. Adjust the seasoning according to your taste. Leave to marinate for at least half an hour.

Julienne a medium knob of ginger (about 2 inches), and diced a medium onion.

Heat up 3 tablespoon of cooking oil, and saute the ginger and onion till aromatic.

Add the chicken without the marinade, and stir to mix with the ginger and garlic for about 3 minutes.

Then add the marinade, and 1/2 cup of water.

Bring to a slow boil, and then lower the heat.

Cook covered for about 15 minutes, or until chicken is cooked.

Test, and adjust the seasoning accordingly.

STIR-FRIED BROCCOLI WITH OYSTER SAUCE

Cut the broccoli into medium florests. Heat a tablespoon of cooking oil, and saute a teaspoon of chopped garlic. Throw in the brocolli and a tablespoon or two of oyster sauce, and stir-fry over high heat for about three minutes. Add 1/4 cup of water, and add a thin mixture of starch flour (1 tablespoon of starch flour to 1/2 cup water). stir, and serve hot.

IN some ways, I think I have moved up in the world… ahem!

I use good skincare, no more Oil of Ulan or Olay or whatever the new name is – even if my daughter’s great-grandmother has been using it since she was a teenager and has flawless skin to show for it even at 80.

I don’t care what people say about cosmetics being the biggest con job, and why they occupy most expensive retail space, and that they are all the same stuff packed in different packaging – I won’t use cheap lipstick.

Actually that’s about as high up in the world as I got, or as delusional  - I am still driving the most generic car, living in a most humble neighbourhood, wearing high street clothes, and I don’t own a single designer handbag.

Last Tuesday I had lunch at La Fite in Shangri-la – a good meal of black cod, with good starters and delicious desserts.
And all week, I was hankering for good ol’ ikan kembung.

That could also be ‘cos I had a bag of ikan kembung in the freezer that my aunt had given me. She cooks mostly fish, and shops for them with the same enthusiasm I shop for clothes and shoes. My mother and aunts’ favourite jaunts are to the markets, especially afternoon markets where they get fish fresh from the boat. We have waited for fishermen in Kuala Muda and Pulau Pangkor, and they think it makes perfect sense to take the old roads so we could stop at Kuala Selangor to buy fresh fish.   They think nothing of paying RM150 (or as my mom likes to say, “… it’s only how much you girls pay for a dress…”) for a fish, and they are most happy extolling about how fresh a fish is…. I am not complaining, I always get free fish. The good fillets are for the precious grand-daughter; I get cheap mackerel.

My grandmother said in her time, only the poor ate ikan kembung because it was the cheapest fish. The rich fed it to the cats. Well, it’s not so cheap anymore, and I love them. There are a few varieties, but I like the smaller, flatter ones that are sweeter and have a finer texture. I like them rubbed with salt and turmeric, and deep fried till they are so crunchy I could chew up everything but the backbone. Not everyone will eat ikan kembung because they are worried about choking on the fine bones, but the bones don’t rattle me.

And I am proud to say fish bones don’t rattle my nine-year daughter. My aunt takes care of her, so she eats loads of fish. And initially she only ate fish fillets. But as she grew older she wanted whatever fish we were eating. We were really careful about picking out the bones for her, and I could just imagine her gagging on a fish bone – as I had the pleasure of experiencing a few times. But then she just blithely picked out (or spat out)  fine bones if she found them in her mouth, and I guess we eased off a bit. If I may just digress, that girl is a trooper – when she first had hot food like curry chicken, she paced round and round with her tongue hung out, and came back for more – absolutely no drama. These days, she just gets a big tall glass of water when she sees curry on the table, and then sits down for second and third helpings of rice. That girl has many challenges to overcome, but she is no whiny whingy wimpy brat.

Anyway, my daughter also likes fried ikan kembung, though she hasn’t gotten to chewing the heads yet. I like this with some sambal too – it’s a recipe I learnt from a friend’s grandmother. It’s the simplest recipe – just shallots and dried chilli, and that’s all. The old matriarch told me to ignore everyone else, and forget about lemongrass, turmeric, belacan, and whatnot. It’s just blending together shallots and dried chilli, and then patiently tumis the mixture till the oil rises to the top. Please don’t stint on the oil, and try not to fry the sambal in a non-stick wok. You will need to use quite a bit of sugar, maybe two tablespoons, but it really depends on your taste.

I was also happy to cook this for an old friend I have known forever for our Sunday lunch. I also cooked bitter gourd omelette because she is one of the few people I know who likes bitter gourd… it’ll be a long time more before I could convince the little one to try it – she is still averse to anything green.

RECIPE

SAMBAL FISH

8-10 ikan kembung, cleaned and gutted

1-2 teaspoon salt

1-2 teaspoon ground turmeric

oil for frying

15 shallots

15-20 dried chillies, deseeded and soaked in hot water for 10 minutes.

1/2 cup oil

salt and sugar, to taste

Rub the fish with the salt and turmeric. Heat the oil in a wok, and fry the fish. Set aside.

Blend the shallots and dried chillies. Heat the oil, and fry the mixture over a low-to-medium heat. Stir occassionally, until the oil rises to the top.

Season with salt and sugar, according to taste. This is a full-bodied sambal, so you have to be brave with your salt and sugar.

I like Saturday mornings. The work week is over, and it’s too soon to worry about Monday.

I don’t do anything exciting though – our most adventurous gig is a trip to Carrefour and maybe a detour to Frutti Tutti. Saturday mornings are for putting my life in order, ie ensure I have clean clothes and clean coffee mugs for the week ahead.

On weekdays, there is no time for chores because it’s straight to homework (which I supervise reluctantly but my daughter is obssessed over) and then to bed (or rather watching tv downloads). Besides, I plainly don’t like housework, so I am tardy at it. Saturday mornings are for washing up an entire week’s laundry and coffee mugs. I know it’s no hardship to wash a mug a day, but I am always rushing out in the morning and I swear I don’t enter the kitchen after work… my mom has given up on me, and so should everyone else :-p.

But I do like cooking, and I try to feed my daughter well. On weekends, I try to cook her different kinds of food – ie not rice. Her favourite is steak – sprinkled with a little salt and black pepper, pan-fried and dabbed with butter. She sits at the table, and finishes her steak every time, and lets nothing distract her from her red meat. We got a bounty of good cuts of one-inch thick rib eye steak, and she has been feasting on them. But this Saturday, it was gloomy and rainy, and I felt like a beef stew.

I looked through some cookbooks for a recipe, but I don’t have all the ingredients – no celery, no red wine, no beef stock, no tomato paste, no bouquet grani. And since I was not inclined to leave the house, I just made do with what I had, which were potatoes, carrots, onion and rosemary. And as I was rummaging through the fridge, I found lemons that badly needed to be rescued from a purposeless life. So I made lemon pasta for myself instead. It’s Saturday morning, and I could afford to do detours.

I have no recipe for this stew. I start by browning the beef cubes, and setting them aside. Then, I fry some onions, add the potatoes,carrots,and tomatoes, some seasoning like HP sauce, salt and pepper. Throw in the beef, and fry them around till they are all aromatic. Add a sprig of rosemary because that’s the only herb still alive in my garden. Then, I add a cup of water. I then put the pot in the oven at 180C for an hour and a half, taking it out occassionally to stir it.

I left it in the oven too long, and it dried up a bit too much. But the beef was tender, and the carrot had absorbed all the good flavours (pity I found only 1 carrot in my fridge… I feel like cooking this again just to eat the carrot). My daughter loved the potatoes most. She would rather have the beef stew (or is it a casserole?) with rice or bread, but the only choice I offered was spaghetti. And we also discovered she likes lemon pasta (that’s just lemon juice, lemon zest, salt and a little cream, with loads of parmesan cheese).

I think the kid prefers pan-fried steak to this stew, but she wasn’t complaining. She didn’t devour her beef with the same fervour she reserves for a good steak, but my ego can withstand the lack of accolade. My life mission now is to train her to do dishes… it’s not child labour to make a ten-year-old wash and scrub, right?