Tong Ho Choy – Singapore Breakfast Beverage?

Just saw this amusing blurb on MrBreakfast.com:

'The unique breakfast beverage of Singapore is tong ho choy. It's referred to as a tea, but a westerner would be inclined to call it a soup. It's made from pork rib (sic), various herbs and soy sauce. It can also acts (sic) as a dipping sauce for roti parathas or Chinese crullers.'

What the . . . !

For those who don't know, this is tong ho choy:

Which part of tong ho choy looks like a beverage, never mind whether it's for breakfast?

I think what MrBreakfast means is Bak Kut Teh (肉骨茶), which sometimes has tong ho choy (茼蒿菜, aka chrysanthemum greens or tan o) added.

Bak Kut Teh is usually served with Chinese tea, hence the word 'Teh' – meaning tea – in the name. Be that as it may, no Singaporean thinks Bak Kut Teh is a 'beverage'. To us, it's a soup, as it would be to westerners. The Chinese tea served on the side helps cut down the richness of the soup that's full of meaty pork ribs, spices and herbs. It's not Bak Kut Teh's focus, which is the soup.

Usually eaten with rice and Chinese crullers, Bak Kut Teh is a substantial meal that's suitable for lunch or dinner. True, some people have it for breakfast. But that's quite rare because it's too heavy, and by no means unique to Singapore. Malaysians also take Bak Kut Teh for breakfast. In fact, I think it's more common for them to do so than Singaporeans.

Chinese crullers, served on the side like tea, are to Bak Kut Teh what French loaf is to French Onion Soup. Bak Kut Teh isn't a sauce for Chinese crullers, just as French Onion Soup isn't a sauce for French loaf. And please, no one dips Roti Pratas in Bak Kut Teh, ever. That would be totally bizarre, an utter waste of the pratas and soup.

Apparently, MrBreakfast is 'the world's undisputed #1 expert on breakfast'. Who says so? Why, it's MrBreakfast himself! My grandma would have told him, as she told me many a time, 'Self praise is no praise!'

Check these out:

Drunken Prawns	Oyakodon	Assam (Tamarind) Prawns	Steamed Pork with Salted Mackerel

Lemon Tarts	Sesame Chicken	Durian Seeds	Babi Assam (Tamarind Pork)

Spring Onion Pancakes (葱油饼) – Simple But Good

I actually don't like cooking that much despite having a food blog. I'm glad it's not something I have to do if I don't want to, unlike those who depend on cooking for a living. Or women who have to cook every day to feed their broods.

I cook because I'm curious. I like to find out how things are done. For me, learning a new cooking method, dish or ingredient is no different from delving into, say, how a space satellite works. Building satellites is out of my league but mucking around the kitchen isn't. Cooking also gives me something to eat, which can be quite nice or at least practical when the tummy is growling. More importantly, when I retire to a remote, secluded spot far, far away, where the nearest neighbour is three days one day away, I will still eat well.

Spring Onion Pancakes – 葱油饼 – are a common street food in China and Taiwan. Available any time of the day, they're particularly popular for breakfast. Contrary to its name, Spring Onion Pancakes are an unleavened, fried bread, not pancakes. And '葱油饼', strictly speaking, means spring onion oil pancake. But I guess it's good marketing to omit the word 'oil'!

A good 葱油饼, best enjoyed hot from the pan, is crispy and flakey outside whilst the inside is chewy with interspersed layers of dough and spring onions. There're only four ingredients – flour, spring onions, oil and salt – but when done well, freshly fried Spring Onion Pancakes are absolutely delicious, especially when they're washed down with sweet soya bean milk or teh halia.

Is it difficult to make good 葱油饼? Not at all, provided you have good spring onions. The dough part – getting it crispy outside and the multiple layers inside chewy – is surprisingly easy.

When I'm living in that land far, far away from civilization, I'll be making lots of 葱油饼 with spring onions plucked from the wilds and water drawn from a natural spring. It's an ideal recipe for remote living because the ingredients required are really simple. A simple bread for simple living. 'I have a dream . . . .'

Speedy Glass Noodle Omelette Soup

Most Chinese soups require long and slow simmering, anything from one to maybe four hours depending on the ingredients used. Big thigh bones filled with yummy bone marrow need a few hours of tender, loving heat. Small chunks of chicken or pork, on the other hand, can be done in 60 minutes 'cause I like to leave some flavour in the meat rather than cook it to death. Most times, the kitties eat it, with some of the broth so that they get the water soluble nutrients. Sometimes, the humans eat it so that they get the non-water soluble nutrients.

On most days, my mother got the soup going at least an hour before doing the main cooking for dinner, which usually took her about 30 minutes for three dishes. Yup, she was the three dishes plus one soup type – 三菜一汤 or 3+1. This must be a dying breed now, I'd say. Most younger families don't bother or don't have time to cook even one dish, let alone three plus one, day in, day out . . . .

Occasionally, when my mother didn't have time to make a slow soup, she would make a quick one with a glass noodle omelette. This wasn't a 'proper' soup in her book because it relied on a stock cube instead of a homemade, robust stock. So she made it only when it was this or no soup. A last resort, in other words, because not having a soup was simply not an option! And the homemade soup had to be freshly made every day. To her, keeping soup or stock in the fridge was unimaginable. That was what my elder sister did after she got married and started her own family. Of course, Mum disapproved of the lazy, 'modern' way. And so did I, so long as I could sit around whilst Mum made soup of the day. But one day, I too flew the nest, and the light dawned on me. I now know that freezing stock is the sensible thing to do; not having soup is, in fact, a very good option; and Glass Noodle Omelette Soup is perfectly respectable and 'proper'. It doesn't have the luxury of any meat that's been simmered long and slow but there're fried dried prawns, fried eggs and fried dried anchovies. Sometimes, I add lots of green veggies and turn it into a one-dish meal. Which is not quite 3+1. I call it 0+1 whilst my mother would say it's 0+½. Whatever, it's better than 0+0 and not cooking at all!

Check these out:

Bitter Melon Soup with Chicken	Beetroot Soup	Kimchi Soup with Meatballs	Chicken Sweetcorn Soup

Minced Pork & 'Olive Vegetables' Stir-Fry – Cool!

If you're wondering what on earth 'olive vegetables' are, it's the inky, black stuff in the photos, aka 乌橄榄菜. It's olives and salted mustard greens cooked in vegetable oil till everything is a dark green mush. And what a marvelous mush it is! The strong flavours from the olives and mustard greens meld together and mellow during the long hours of cooking, creating something that tastes like olives, but better. It's more complex, more nuanced, rounder, smoother . . . an absolute delight with plain rice porridge, straight out of the bottle. But I would say that, wouldn't I? I'm Teochew, and 乌橄榄菜 is a Teochew specialty, one of our many ways of preserving vegetables. Honestly though, I swear I'm not biased. Why would anyone eat an oily black mush – since the Sung dynasty, apparently – unless it tastes really good?

Making 乌橄榄菜 is a long, tedious process. Want to see how it's done in China? Here's a video – in Teochew (!) with Chinese subtitles – on a school teacher turned farmer turned businessman who's made good producing 乌橄榄菜 (catch him around 3:40 looking mighty pleased with himself as he relates his success story):



The weather's been really hot lately, so hot I can't fathom the thought of eating rice. Give me porridge, please! It's so much lighter, and requires less effort since no chewing is necessary. I also can't fathom cooking anything elaborate in this heat. The quicker, the easier, the better. And nothing is quicker and easier than stir-frying minced pork with 乌橄榄菜. I don't have to cut anything except for a few cloves of garlic. Which takes all of five seconds if you whack 'em hard with a cleaver à la Martin Yan. The pork, because it's minced, takes all of two minutes to cook. It's done before I get all hot and bothered. Now that's what I call a cool dish for a hot day . . . . On second thought, it's cool for any day!


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MINCED PORK & OLIVE VEGETABLES STIR-FRY (肉脞炒乌橄榄菜) (Recipe for 4 persons) 60 g 乌橄榄菜 (4 tbsp packed) (I use Sin Guo brand which isn't very salty) 2 tbsp coarsely minced garlic (3 large cloves) 300 g coarsely minced pork, with enough fat to make you feel guilty light soya sauce to taste, 1 tsp or so Drain 乌橄榄菜, reserving oil. Heat wok till very hot. Add 1 tbsp oil. (Discard the rest, or maybe keep it for a salad.) Heat till very hot. Add garlic. Stir-fry till translucent over medium heat. Add 乌橄榄菜. Stir-fry till fragrant and garlic is lightly golden. Increase heat to high; wait a few seconds for wok to heat up. Add minced pork. Stir to break up lumps. Keep stirring till pork is opaque and cooked, 2-3 minutes. Taste, then season with light soya sauce if necessary. Mix well. Turn off heat. Push pork to one side of wok to drain off excess oil. Plate, minus oil. Serve with rice or porridge.

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Pear Sweet Soup (银耳雪梨糖水) – Cantonese Health Food

Cantonese sweet soups or 糖水 are usually served as a dessert, but they're not like desserts in any other culture. Everyone regards desserts as an evil temptation that they should avoid as much as possible, except the Cantonese. To them, desserts aren't indulgent or sinful but a necessary health tonic for the body. That's right, desserts are a health food! Isn't that an awesome idea?! Forget the nasty stuff like wheatgrass and flax seeds. Heath food Cantonese style is what you want!

In Hong Kong, there're many restaurants that serve only sweet soups. A lot of these specialty eateries are packed with people even late at night. Do the customers feel guilty when they're tucking into something sweet and yummy, sometimes just before going to bed? Not at all! Why would anyone feel bad about eating health food? If they're feeling listless and tired, a bowl of red bean soup would give 'em an energy boost. Having an acne breakout? Red wouldn't be the right colour. Instead, go for green bean soup which is also good for eczema and lowering cholesterol. Looking for smooth, milky white complexion? That'd be almond milk or steamed custard. Been coughing lately? Sea-coconuts and pears to the rescue. Does black glutinous rice with coconut milk and mangoes sound good? I hear it improves digestion. Worried about hair turning grey? Forget coconuts; black sesame soup would do the trick . . . .

I haven't come across a sweet soup that cures cancer but there's something for just about everything else!

I had two bowls of Pear and Snow Fungus Sweet Soup (银耳雪梨糖水) after dinner. My throat, which been quite dry for a few days, feels ok now. Worked like a charm, and it was a light and refreshing dessert to boot.

Who says you should avoid desserts? When it's a Cantonese sweet soup, you should have a second helping!

Check these out:

Sambal Timun (Spicy Pork Cucumber Salad)	Har Lok (Dry- Fried Prawns, 干煎虾碌)	Durian Seeds	Sweet Glutinous Rice (湯圓)

Lemon Tarts – With Kick

When life gives you lemons, make lemon tarts. They're much better than lemonade! And if you don't have free lemons from life, go buy some. Lemon tarts are worth it!

I gave one of my lemon tarts to a friend once. As I watched him eat, waiting for some compliments, he said, 'It's sour.' I was quite happy, thinking that he liked it, then I realized he meant the opposite. Duh? I'm proud of my lemon tarts precisely because they're sour . . . or rather tart, which sounds much nicer. There's about half a lemon in each small tart!

Why have lemon anything if you can't taste the lemon? I find the lemon tarts sold in Singapore way too sweet and not at all tart or lemony. In other words, wimps! Now France is where they know how to make a proper tarte au citron. There, in just about every patisserie, you can find silky smooth sunshine yellow tarts that give you a lemon high and make your eyes spring wide open with a 'Ding!' Or maybe 'Ooh la la!'

The best thing about homemade lemon tarts is the homemade lemon curd. Lemon curd eaten on the day it's made has a tartness that's really refreshing. After resting in the fridge for a night, the tartness mellows, and the curd becomes less sharp and more rounded. I like it both ways. Either is miles better and fresher than store bought ones made god knows how many moons ago.

Today's recipe might look rather lengthy but I swear making lemon tarts doesn't take long. 15 minutes to get the tart shells in the oven (no resting needed) and whilst they're baking, another 15 minutes to make the curd. If you can't wait, cool the curd in an ice bath for 5 minutes. Another 5 minutes to assemble, garnish and unmould. 40 minutes, tops. Great use of 40 minutes, I think. One warning though: these tarts are really tart. As my friend said, they're lemon tarts for lemon fiends!

Check these out:

Chocolate Chip Cookies	Crispy Grilled French Toast	Homemade Lemon Curd	Almond Toffee	Chocolate Tarts

Tricolour 'Steamed' Eggs – Smoothness Guaranteed

The key to steamed eggs that are smooth as a baby's bottom is heat control. If the water steaming the eggs hits 100°C, honeycombs would form and the texture would be rough. To get a silky smoothness, the steaming water should be just below boiling point so that the eggs don't curdle. A very gentle simmer for a couple minutes doesn't do any serious damage. Anything more than that, however, and you'd have to kiss that baby's bottom goodbye. The problem is, this dish is typically made in a wok on the stove. And it's difficult to stop water from boiling whilst keeping it hot enough to steam eggs.

When my mother made steamed eggs, she would start with really low heat. And then she would wait . . . and wait. And then she would get impatient when her brood started milling around the kitchen, which was a subtle way of asking, 'Is dinner ready yet?' And then she would crank up the heat. And then we would have rough, honeycombed eggs. Not that she was to blame, of course, cooking under duress. Occasionally, when she wasn't harassed and got it right, the silky, slithery eggs were a real treat.

There's actually a simple, foolproof way to make perfect steamed eggs. Forget about controlling temperature in a wok on the stove. There's no need for any iffy, guess work. Just stick the eggs in a water bath, whack the whole thing in an oven and ta-daaa! Problem solved! Let the oven thermostat do the work. Isn't that easy? Technically, the eggs are baked rather than steamed but who cares! No one would know if you don't tell them.

Who needs an electric steamer? Not me. Who needs a steam oven? Not me either. Just a simple water bath in the oven, and silky smooth steamed eggs are guaranteed. No more rough and honeycombed eggs, ever. Baby's bottom, muah muah muah!



Check these out:

Chai Poh Omelette (菜脯卵)	Smoked Eggs	Tea Eggs (茶叶蛋)	Tamagoyaki