Wonton Soup – Scrumptious Belly Buttons

Wontons? Chinese tortellini? 馄炖? 云吞? Sorry, I call them belly buttons. If you look at those that are properly made whilst they're still raw (see the photo below?), don't they look just like belly buttons? That was what Mum said they were called when I was a little girl, and the name has stayed with me since. I think belly button is much cuter than wonton. As for those that are unceremoniously scrunched up with nary a thought, they look like bits of crumbled tissue. Which is why Hongkongers – who are big wonton eaters – refer to blowing one's nose as 'wrapping wonton' (包云吞). Ewwwwww! Ok, sorry, that's mega gross. But now you know why you should wrap wontons properly.

Speaking of ravioli, they're obviously an outright imitation of wontons, just as pasta is an imitation of noodles. You know Malaysia wanted to claim ownership rights to Singapore Chilli Crab and Hainanese Chicken Rice a couple of months back, saying Singapore 'hijacked' these dishes? If you don't, click here for the gory details. Maybe China should claim ownership rights to pasta as well. HA! I wonder how Italians will react to that. By the way, it just wouldn't be right to call wontons Chinese tortellini. But of course, it's perfectly alright to call tortellini Italian wontons. ; )

How to make good Wonton Soup? No secrets, really. As with any soup, fresh ingredients and a good stock are imperative. A bit of fat in the pork keeps the filling moist. Water chestnuts add crunch. Dried sole or deep fried shallots impart a lovely fragrance. When restaurants or hawkers serve bad wontons, it's because they're scrimping, not because they don't know how to make good ones. No such problem when I roll up my sleeves and make my own. Every wonton is chock-a-block full of quality ingredients. Scrumptious!

Check these out:

Chicken Sweetcorn Soup	Bitter Melon Soup with Chicken	Prawn Tom Yun Soup	Bombay Duck Soup

Sweet and Sour Pork – A Crowd Pleaser

Who doesn't like Sweet and Sour Pork? The Cantonese dish made with bite size pieces of pork deep-fried in batter, then dressed in a sweet and sour sauce, is a real crowd pleaser. It's not difficult to see why Sweet and Sour Pork is popular with young and old alike all over the world. It looks appetizing with colourful pieces of pepper and pineapple. It tastes appetizing with a sweet and tart balance. Tender morsels of boneless pork mean even the fussiest eaters have no complaints. Or do they? Well, maybe they do. There could be too much flour. The batter could be soggy. The pork could be dry. The sauce could be too sweet or too sour. How do you make the perfect Sweet and Sour Pork? Ahem! By following my recipe! I love this dish, along with everyone in my very extended family, so I've had lots of practice making it. Not to mention the no holds barred feedback. As they say, practice makes perfect. Sweet, tart and fruity, the sauce has everyone's approval. There should be just enough sauce to coat the meat thinly without any excess. As for the batter, I've got it down pat with a mix of plain flour, corn flour and baking powder. The combination gives a crispy batter that stays crispy after it's tossed with the sauce. Not forever, of course, but long enough if the dish is served immediately. Which cut of pork to use? My favourite is rib eye, followed by shoulder butt and spare ribs. Some people use tenderloin but I find it a bit too lean.

Frankly, it's quite a pain deep-frying itsy bitsy pieces of meat. But when I see everyone's chopsticks flying to and fro, wiping out the pile of pork, peppers, onions and pineapple, it's all worth it.

Check these out:

Kou Shui Ji (口水鸡)	Drunken Chicken and Eggs	Steamed Pork Ribs with Fermented Black Beans	Crispy Pork Ribs with Dried Tangerine Peel

Char Siu Bao (叉燒包) – Boomz!

I would be far too immodest and a liar if I said the Char Siu Bao I make are the best I've ever eaten. It would also belittle the Char Siu Bao sifu (師父) who have spent decades making hundreds of Char Siu Bao by hand every day, day in, day out. A huge insult to compare their lifelong devotion to my grand total of three attempts. I've had better ones but hey, I didn't make those. The ones I make may be amateurish but I wouldn't exchange them for the most professional ones in the world. Like no mother would exchange her daughter for a beauty queen. Like Petunia who thinks her daughter is a beauty queen (click here for her post). Like her daughter who thinks the family pet mongrel is a champion show dog. I think my Char Siu Bao are boomz¡ They're my beautiful babies.

Here's a photo of Petunia's dog, Milo (stolen from her blog, heheh). He doesn't look at all mongrelly to me, more like a Bullmastiff. I'm not sure if Petunia is 100% certain he's a mongrel. Maybe she just assumes the stray puppy she found isn't purebred. Wouldn't it be funny if he turns out to be a Bullmastiff pedigree? Or a cross breed perhaps? The ugly duckling is actually a swan! As for my Char Siu Bao, I'm sure there's a swan in there somewhere. They just need an extreme makeover . . . extremely extreme.

To make up for my unprofessional Char Siu Bao, here's the vintage 1957 Char Siu Bao song, a foot-tapping, hip-swinging treat from Paula Tsui:

And the original Mambo Italiano by Rosemary Clooney:


Check these out:

Swiss Rösti	Bombay Duck Soup	Sweet and Savory Beancurd	$1m for a pet bowl!

Kong! Bak! Pau! – Pork Belly with Steamed Buns

The monsoon season this year has started earlier than usual. It's been pouring by the bucketload practically every day for the past couple of weeks. And the weatherman predicts rain daily for the next 10 days! Wunderbar! Nice! Provided I'm not caught in traffic which jams up because of the rain, I really love this weather. It's a great change from the usual heat and humidity in sunny, tropical Singapore. I don't do it now but when I was a kid, I loved playing football with my brothers in the rain. Sliding and splashing around in a wet, muddy field was so much more fun than kicking a ball when the ground was dry and hard. Definitely worth the good scolding for getting our clothes muddy! In the rain, even walking home from school was fun 'cause we could stomp through puddles of water. Of course, that dirtied our white canvas Bata school shoes and got us another good scolding. Mind you, the fun didn't end when the rain stopped. After a heavy downpour, the lungfish in the pond next to our house escaped with the overflowing water, so we had to rescue them. These were fish which had lungs and could breathe air. Weird, eh? They could survive on land for quite a long time and were always wriggling vigorously on the ground when we found them. Unfortunately – or fortunately, from their perspective – they weren't very palatable, so we just chucked them back in the pond. The rainy season also brought lots of tadpoles in water puddles, which we caught and placed in glass bottles. It was fascinating watching them grow legs and eventually turn into tiny little toads.

That was then, this is now. Older, sedate and aware of lightning risks, I don't run around in the rain any more. I love curling up with my cats (that's Princess Mel in the photo) for a snooze when a heavy downpour cools the hot, humid air. Or sitting next to an open window with a cup of tea, feeling the rain on my face. Back when we were catching fish with lungs, we had a corrugated zinc veranda which made a real ruckus when it rained. And the wave pattern in the zinc roof created a water curtain with strings of rain. It was very relaxing listening to the thundering rain and watching the shimmering strings of water. No such sound and visual effect now, I'm afraid.

There's one thing rainy weather always does to me no matter how old or young I am. It makes me really hungry! So hungry it's a good time to eat a piping hot stew. Not just any stew but a pork belly stew which might be too rich and filling when the weather is hot. Some call it Lor Bak (滷肉), others call it Kong Bak(扣肉). Or Dong Po Rou (東坡肉) or Tau Yu Bak (豆油肉). All these are pork belly braised Chinese style but the ingredients vary depending on personal preferences. I love the one I make because it has lots of vinegar to cut through the richness of the pork. And onions, garlic and ginger slowly cooked and caramelized in a dark, thick sauce. They are unrecognizable by the time the stew's done but these black blobs of stuff are, trust me, more delicious than the pork. I enjoy the stew with either rice or Chinese steamed buns, and every single bite is worth the extra time on the treadmill come payback time. Before I pay back, however, I wash everything down with a cup of strong Chinese tea and have a good snooze. Can't exercise right after I eat, right? Later lah.

Check these out:

Tamarind Pork (Babi Assam)	Spareribs with Dried Tangerine Peel	Spareribs with Fermented Black Beans	Drunken Chicken and Soft-Boiled Eggs

Big Lizard Stir-Fry – Crocodile Rocks

Wondering how to cook a crocodile? Easy! I cooked crocodile meat today, the first time ever. Actually, it was the first time I saw crocodile meat. I was surprised by how pristine white the meat was. It was whiter than even chicken breast. I had thought game meat should be red and crocs are game, aren't they, even when they're farmed and not wild? Apparently, whether the meat is red or white depends on how much oxygen the cells are required to carry. Hence, whales have meat which is almost black because they can't breathe underwater and must carry a huge amount of oxygen in their cells. I guess crocodiles have white meat because they don't need much oxygen just lying around waiting for lunch or dinner to show up. But that doesn't explain why rabbits, which bounce around a lot, have white meat . . . ? Never mind, I'm a (home) cook, not a zoologist. But now I know there's a chicken look-alike under that scaly, scary exterior, these overgrown lizards seem a bit less fearsome. By the way, crocodiles aren't lizards, technically. But I like calling them lizards. If I had a pet croc, I would call her Lizzy. Ha . . . ha . . . .

Ok, on to the cooking part. I was a bit worried the crocodile meat might be gamey or fishy, as I had read on the internet. I tried a tiny piece, poached in water and dipped in soya sauce, before deciding how I was going to cook the big lizard. It tasted like . . . no, not like chicken. It was like a good cut of pork but without any hint of 'porkiness'. The texture was like pork, and I could imagine the meat would be tough overcooked, as warned by some website. I therefore did a lightning quick stir-fry on high heat after marinating the sliced meat in light soya sauce and a pinch of salt. I also added some mild green and red chillies, scallions, onions, garlic, oyster sauce and Shaoxing wine. It's a colourful Chinese combination which enhanced the crocodile meat's taste and looks without overpowering it. I kept the dish fairly dry so as to concentrate the flavours without having a thickened sauce, which would have prolonged the cooking. The result? A quick, easy and tasty stir-fry which was familiar yet novel because it was a ferocious beast we were eating. Don't know if Crocodile Dundee would like my crocodile recipe though.

Since we're talking about crocodiles, here's Elton John's Crocodile Rock. It's nostalgia or an introduction, depending on whether you're an iPoder or vinyl recorder. This song never fails to get my feet tapping . . . . Oh dear, now you know which era I'm from.



Check these out:

Crispy Spring Rolls (Popiah)	Spareribs with Dried Tangerine Peel	Stir Fried Eggplant with Chicken	Pickled Cucumber with Osmanthus

Almond Biscotti – Dunking Delights

There's nothing I like better first thing in the morning than a hard and dry biscotto dunked in a well made latte . . . . Ok, I take that back. There are but starting the day with a simple biscotto and milky coffee, plus the day's newspapers, is still pretty good. It means the mad morning rush isn't so bad I haven't got time to breathe. And when I make my own biscotti instead of dashing in and out of Starbucks or Spinelli, that means I have time to potter around the kitchen. Ultimate bliss.

The first biscotti recipe I tried was from Bill Granger after considering his vs Rachel Ray's and Martha Stewart's. He won because he's cute, heterosexual, male and younger. What kind of criteria is that? you may ask. As good as any other! Except the friggin' recipe didn't work. I don't know what went wrong. The dough just sat in the oven and refused to brown. Eventually, the raw eggs separated from the flour and oozed all over the tray. I swear it's the man's fault since I measured everything carefully like usual. Mum said never trust good looking men. As always, Mum knew best. Anyways, I was scouting for another man recipe when Open Kitchen Concept recommended one from Jenny Bakes. Her biscotti – or rather her husband's – looked just like those sold in cafes. With the strong endorsement, I made a small batch yesterday. BIN-GO! Mine also looked like those in cafes, yes? Thanks, Mr OKC, Mrs OKC and Jenny.

Check these out:

No-Knead Bread	Apricot Jam	Salted Caramel	Sticky Toffee Prune Pudding

Braised Beancurd with Veggies – Two-in-One

Well made firm beancurd, with a creamy texture and distinct 'beany' flavour, is an absolute delight. It makes a wonderful quick afternoon snack, fried and dipped in chilli sauce. Silken tofu is less flavourful but its silky softness is great steamed or in soups. And there's the Goldilocks version which is half way between firm and silken in texture and taste. It's a multi-tasker which is good no matter how it's cooked. I love it fried – easy 'cause it's firm – then braised – good 'cause it's soft. The braising sauce is made with minced chicken and seasoned with oyster sauce and light soya sauce. Very simple but tasty. It enhances the beancurd and is also very good for drizzling on blanched veggies. Xiao bai cai (bok choy) is an obvious choice but broccoli and spinach are excellent, too. Saves time making two dishes with one sauce. Not bad at all.

Check these out:

Chai Poh (Preserved Radish) Omelette	Mapo Tofu	Sweet & Savory Beancurd	Stir-Fried Tomatoes with Eggs

Baked Fish Intestines in Custard – &*FF!@9FGFU¡¡

Cookbooks and food blogs (this one included) go on and on about how wonderful their recipes are. And they tell wonderful, personal stories related to their recipes, all overflowing with sweetness and light. Kind of like Chicken Soup for the Soul with Recipes. Let's think a bit outside the box, shall we? What if you don't want to cook with tender loving care? What if you're cooking for your mother-in-law, an ex-boyfriend to be, a house guest who has way overstayed or a flat mate who leaves his underwear everywhere? For people like that, you wouldn't want to make the ultimate, to die for chocolate cake using your grandma's recipe, would you? Hell, no! You want to make Baked Fish Intestines in Custard. So that your mother-in-law won't visit for the next five years. Your flat mate or house guest will be packing his bags after dinner. Your ex-boyfriend to be instantaneously becomes your ex-boyfriend. If your husband dares forget your birthday, make him Baked Fish Intestines in Custard three nights in a row. After that, he'll never forget your birthday for the rest of his life.

The recipe for Baked Fish Intestines in Custard I'm sharing is from a cookbook entitled Hong Kong Restaurants' Signature Dishes. Believe it or not, I actually ordered it in a restaurant in Causeway Bay. Some diners saw Baked Fish Intestines on the menu and very wisely said, "No way!" I saw Baked Fish Intestines on the menu and dived right in to investigate. If I were a cat, curiosity would have killed me. So, I took a tiny, weeny, little spoonful of the custard with a bit of black gut poking out and dangling . . . . It was . . . exactly like how one would imagine fish intestines would taste like. If you've gutted fish before, you'd know what I mean. Try everything once, they say. Alrighty, fish intestines: been there, done that. Of course, there might be the odd connoisseur who disagrees with me.



Check these out:

Bombay Duck Soup	Mac's Evil Eye	Claypot Fish Head	Sichuan Spicy Kung Pao Prawns

Idiot-Proof Chocolate Truffles

The busiest gift giving season of the year is more than a month away but the shops are already full of Christmas stuff. And Orchard Road is all lit up and decked out for its annual big bash lights wise. I wish I could share some night shots of Orchard Road all dressed up but it's not possible because I don't have a tripod. (Hint hint!) Anyway, I'm not sure I want to brave the crowds at Orchard Road. I'm glad I don't have to fight the hordes of Christmas shoppers this year because I'll be giving homemade Chocolate Truffles. Store bought chocs are almost a non-present, aren't they? So easy, so unoriginal and such a no-brainer. Homemade chocolate truffles, however, are completely different. I imagine the person getting the gift would be really surprised, "Wow! You made these?" He would marvel at the skill (not much at all), the effort (yes, there is a little bit) and the thought (don't tell him I'm giving everyone homemade truffles). Haha, just kidding. It might be chocolates for everyone but there would still be a great deal of attention to personal preferences. Who likes which nuts? Dark or white chocolate? What kind of alcohol to add? Who's been naughty? Who's been nice? Hm, I had better make a list, and check it twice!

Check these out:

Ginger Milk Custard	French Toast	Kiwifruit Trifle	Sweet Glutinous Rice Balls