Life is Great

It's been four years since I've relocated to Singapore and I've come to miss my friends back in Malaysia very much. I would often harass convince them to come down for short breaks just so we could meet up. "What holiday? Have you seen the exchange rate lately?!", they would exclaim. "Well... err, you can stay with me and I'll cook for you. That would be priceless right?", I'd resort to bribery. Some of them succumbed to my bed and breakfast offers while others would catch me for a quick cup of coffee or lunch when they're here for work.



However, lately I realized, to my chagrin, that I can't always be in the country when they come to the island on their own schedule. So I'd bake them something before I leave. Thankfully, up till now, the results of my affection turned out pretty well. The requests were always for something chocolate and I'd know exactly which cake I'd end up making. For the last one though, I was getting rather tired, literally, of making the same best ever chocolate cake over and over again. After a long business trip and only having a couple of days to hang before I had to pack up for Hong Kong again, I wasn't sure if my level of enthusiasm was sufficient to fuss over a layered cake with homemade berry compote filling and frosting of chocolate ganache.



The last thing I wanted was to feel like it's a chore in the kitchen, so I had to change my plan. How many types of chocolate cake can we bake before we call it a day? It'll be awhile before I run out of great recipes to try but next in line on the list of awesome-chocolate-cakes-to-bake was one which Vijay declared he would have no issues with. While he wasn't so excited about the last leafy green chiffon, when I came home one day with two pieces of chocolate ones from Bengawan Solo, he gladly finished them in less than two minutes. Great, I thought, this would be a breeze.



Except, it didn't turn out to be so easy. For starters, I didn't have a working recipe. Good Shirley, with quite a few chiffon cakes already under her baking belt, without fail helped me out with one version despite her busy days. However, missing from my ever growing stack of bakeware is the required 17-inch tube pan so I decided to go with this rather more substantial 'light sponge' from All Recipes instead. With that sorted out, I quickly proceeded to worry myself silly about getting a respectable height from the cake, as chocolate chiffons are not quite like other chiffons. The cocoa powder's volatile reaction (or non-reaction) with rising agents - depending on whether or not you're going Dutch - bothered me to no end. The recipe doesn't mention if the cocoa powder should be Dutch or natural so I gambled on my favorite Valrhona and hoped for the best.



So while I did the dishes after putting the cake into the oven, I was like a woman possessed. Every five to ten minutes I would rinse off my soap laden hands and steal a peep at the oven, praying for the cake to rise properly. For the first 20 minutes when the batter was still setting and didn't move northwards much I thought I was pretty much doomed. I was going back and forth in front of the oven for the entire hour it took for the cake to be done. If the oven could speak it would've disowned me. Thank God the cake did puff very much upwards in the end, although it wasn't as tall as its pandan cousin.



To test the doneness of the cake, instead of pressing it for a spring back action, I used the cake tester approach. All went well after it came out of the oven, cooled for a few hours and later removed from the pan - although to be honest I really only relaxed after the cake stayed the way it came out half an hour after it was released. While it was very moist, fluffy and light, it wasn't like eating a piece of cloud so if you'll have to decide if this is the kind of chocolate chiffon you're looking for. As for me, I'll try out Shirley's recipe once I get my hands on a smaller pan.



If you're by now slightly worried that Life if Great is turning into a largely chocolate cakes-slash-desserts center, well, I really can't promise anything. Prior to making this cake, I was thinking of chocolate pudding. Immediately after baking this cake I wanted to make a batch of cocoa brownies to bring with me to Hong Kong. As of right now, after an hour-long conference call in my hotel room, I'm thinking of having a piece of that chocolate Swiss roll stashed away in the minibar icebox. So you get the picture - I'm helpless in the power of chocolate but if you're like me, enjoy this cake and the long Labor Day weekend!

Chocolate Chiffon Cake
Adapted barely from Erma Fox at All Recipes

Note: I mostly followed the recipe except I skipped the (heavy-looking) icing, added some coffee to enhance the chocolate, split the sugar to beat the meringue and folded in the meringue using the traditional chiffon cake method (oh you know, the 1/3 to lighten then fold in the rest thing) but feel free to do as per the original recipe and see how things unfold, hopefully with much less drama in your head.

• 1/2 cup cocoa powder (I used Valrhona)


• 2 tablespoons instant coffee


• 3/4 cup boiling water


• 1 3/4 cups cake flour


• 1 3/4 cups sugar


• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda


• 1 teaspoon salt


• 1/2 cup vegetable oil


• 7 eggs, separated


• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract


• 1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

Preheat the oven to 325°F (I set my convection on at 150°C) and place the wire rack at the lowest slot. In a bowl, combine cocoa powder, instant coffee and boiling water until smooth; cool for a minimum of 20 minutes (I left mine for a couple of hours till the mixture thickens at room temperature).

In a large mixing bowl, combine flour, half the sugar, baking soda and salt. Add in the oil, egg yolks and vanilla. Mix well and then add the cocoa mixture; whisk until smooth. In another mixing bowl or a stand mixer, beat the egg whites and cream of tartar. Add in the other half of the sugar gradually and beat until stiff peaks form. Fold in 1/3 of the meringue into the egg yolk mixture and mix well. Gently fold in the rest of the meringue without overmixing.

Pour batter into an ungreased 10-inch tube pan. Bake for 60-65 minutes or until a cake tester inserted into the middle comes out clean. Invert pan to cool completely before removing it from the pan. Top with icing sugar prior to serving. If you're feeling fancy, garnish with some chopped pistachios and fresh raspberries.

Continue reading Chocolate Chiffon Cake

Sometimes I get carried away, forget that I'm here for work and slip into vacation mode, at the land of dim sum, roasted meat and colonial Cantonese. It's so easy to subconsciously think about where to go or what to eat next, then automatically reach for the map to study the MTR network, plan detailed programs and contact friends on Twitter/Facebook for more information. With a new job that brings me to Hong Kong for the next couple of months, so far things are looking (and tasting) pretty good. Already on my second trip here, I've missed its cooler days but still see people going about in jackets, ponchos (yes), overcoats and boots while I'm happily minimal in my sleeveless tops and skirts - well, there could be something wrong with me, you'll never know.



I'm put up at Tung Chung, near the sea and away from the crowd of Hong Kong Island but this also means on weekdays I don't really have much time to venture out to livelier spots. And honestly there's really only so much of Maxim's dim sum and yeung chow fried rice one can have - chef Gregoire will be shaking his head at this, I know chef... I know - but it's tough when I'm practically grounded at the airport work days from nine to five. So on the first available weekend I made it to Hau Fook St at Kowloon's Tsim Sha Tsui with the intention to savor some HK-style Chinese desserts. Sadly, China Town Dessert (糖仁街) was closed on a Sunday, so I hopped into a random Vietnamese cha chaan teng for some beef noodles and fried spring rolls.





On the way back to the hotel, I stopped by the mall at Tsing Yi MTR to get half a dozen of the so highly coveted Tai Cheong Bakery egg tarts. The bakery's original outlet at Central supposedly rolls out the "best egg tarts in the world" (allegedly declared by Hong Kong's last governor Chris Patten). After the first bite though, I agree with Michelle that it may very well be one of those over-hyped things. The warm tarts - all six of them - looked extremely mouth-watering but hardly emitted any hint of intoxicating aroma like hot egg tarts should. The flaky pastry was passable and the egg custard, forgettable. I wouldn't drag myself all the way to Central just to see if the headquarters pushed out better ones - if quality can't be maintained across all branches, why bother?




The following weekend saw me back in the heart of Kowloon again, this time along Shanghai St Yau Ma Tei for some shopping along its line of kitchen supplies stores (thanks to Hong Kong dweller Rita!). I took the wrong direction northwards Shanghai St towards Mongkok at first and ended up passing outlets selling bathroom fittings, home lighting and electrical appliances instead of pots, pans and tableware. Hungry for some lunch, I stopped at Little Sheep at Argyle St but made the mistake of ordering dim sum instead of just a bowl of lamb noodles. I was probably too starved to think straight and believe me those bundle of rice noodles swimming in soy sauce looked pretty enticing when you've walked from one end of a very long street to the other. Having dim sum alone wasn't only a chore, it was impossible for me to finish everything. By the time I resigned myself to leave alone four juicy Mongolian lamb xiaolongbaos on the table, I got my head cleared again and decided to go back towards Yau Ma Tei to hunt for what I originally came out for.





Then came the point where I wished I brought a bigger luggage for the trip. Finally finding the right end of Shanghai St, half the kitchen and baking supplies shops were dominated by Man Kee, with lots going by names like Man Kee Chopping Board, Man Kee Steel Works and a couple of others I can't remember. All items from toothpick holders to Kitchenaid stand mixers go at wholesale prices and one can bargain, though in all the excitement of the moment I actually forgot to. I grabbed some tableware, props, tart rings and then finally stopped buying when a 10-inch cast iron skillet (HKD50!) made its way into my shopping bag. I didn't think I could squeeze anything more into my Crumpler backpack and it would be ridiculous if I end up with broken plates back in Singapore as almost everything was fragile - except the skillet, which was more of a hazard to all the other stuffs.




With the first round of retail therapy and a lots of eating out of the way, the next day I reckoned that it would be fitting to take up an ex-schoolmate KO's invitation to go hiking, burn away all those dim sum and experience the greener side of Hong Kong. The hiking season is coming to an end as the weather gets menacingly warmer every day. By the time I made it to Chai Wan at the Island the Sunday morning sun was already blazing hot. We did a small part of the Hong Kong Trail, starting from the cemeteries at the foot of Mount Collinson and ending at Shek O Road. It took an hour longer than expected as a very unfit yours truly with a quite recent leg injury gingerly navigated her way through the rocky paths, quickly overtaken by uncles 20 to 30 years older as they fleeted pass her like Duracell bunnies on crack. Thankfully my friend was a sport and patiently waited for me while I busied myself trying not to trip and fall off some off the narrower mountain tracks. Note to self before the next hiking trip - ditch the flowy yoga pants and messenger bag for shorts and a backpack.





After the roughly seven clicks of heart pumping journey, I was rewarded at lunch with more - you guessed it - dim sum. Only this time it was really good. We went to Fu Shing Shark Fin Seafood Restaurant at Wanchai and was given a nice table in a separate room away from the noise of the main dining hall. Simple staples like the har gow, steamed glutinous rice in lotus leaves and XO sauce fried chee cheong fun was done properly while their signature char siew for HKD88 (used to be HKD60) was worth its lofty price tag. Their pillowy puffs of char siew polo buns with crispy crusts were also to die for. What stopped me from asking KO to order more were images of those tough-like-steel old uncles beating me at the hiking trail earlier.







As for cakes and other desserts, I haven't gotten to the recommended shops yet but found out that Maxim's import their impeccable pandan chiffon cakes all the way from Malaysia. Lamingtons are also big at bakeries and cafes here, I wonder why they never caught on further down south. That angel food cake you see there caught my attention with its frosting, I admit. I wonder if I can ever frost a cake so smoothly that way.




I hope to have more to report from this latest trip. For now, I need to get back to scheming on my plan for the next three days and decide on which hard case to get for the inevitable check-in build up by the time I fly back next month. Have a great Good Friday and Easter all of you who celebrate.


Continue reading Hong Kong Part I

This is another guest post by Vijay. I'm always excited when he wants to cook. Nothing beats having love put on a plate for you by your other half. Since I've taken up another new job which brings me out of the country (and therefore my kitchen) most of the time, I'm gunning for more meals made for me, especially something like this, a recipe from home, which we both miss. Next time I'll do the dishes baby!

Most people would swear by their mother's cooking. This is hardly surprising, it's what we grew up with and from infancy; our minds, bodies and perhaps even souls have come to accept our mum's efforts as 'goodness'. This is the case not only with home cooking, but also with food from our locality. Perhaps having to eat something of a certain flavor profile over a significant period of time encourages our palate to adapt to it.



Either way, this sort of signature in a certain style or taste gets etched into our systems. We won't realize this at first. Only when we move away from home, or have lost access to the fruits of labor of those who used to feed us, or perhaps when we start working and have our meals out that we realize "Hey, I kinda miss that good old [insert your favorite home cooked dish here]." or "Boy, I sure do miss that Hokkien noodle from that shop behind my house right now."



When it comes to mum-styled-home-cooked food, sometimes the simplest of dishes are missed the most. After all it's the simplest of dishes that we normally can't get at restaurants. So we all (or at least most of us) love our mum's (or even dad's) cooking. But if all mothers are created equal, then the world would be pretty filled with lots of good cooks. This, however, isn't the case. Sometimes it's not so much that they’re good or even great cooks, it's just that we’ve conditioned ourselves and gotten so used to the palate, we would regard whatever our mothers whip up as good.



Then there are mothers who can cook so well, they can convert a non-eater of a certain something into one. My mother is one such mum. Her food has fed hundreds of craving mouths during our Diwali open house sessions. Testimonies would come from a good number of people who have sworn off mutton yet now would keep coming back wanting more. My friend Joel comes year after year well armed with food containers to pack mutton varuval back for his wife if she's not able to visit (Joel, if you're reading this, don't blame Emilianie). The labors of love that Mum puts in, coupled with her natural gift that brings life and depth to the flavors she so skillfully put together makes her dishes shine. Cook from your heart, that's Mum's philosophy. Dad can also cook and helps Mum whenever needed. He may not be as patient or consistent as Mum, but on most occasions gets the job done. Sometimes they would each cook their own versions of, say, fried noodles and then put my brother and I in a spot to decide whose version was tastier. My paternal granddad whom I never met apparently was a real cook. Mum confirmed that he cooked really well, so did my paternal grandma.



With a family history of such track record, I guess it's only natural that I love cooking too but between you and me, I really hate the rigorous cleanup jobs after the mess I tend to make and many a times, that stops me going into the kitchen altogether. In my younger days, I watched and (tried to) help Mum in the kitchen whenever I could. These were also our chitchat sessions where we shared quality times heart-to-heart. It's been 17 years now I've lived away from home. You can imagine my cravings and for Mum's cooking – healthy, tasty and full of love. Whenever I'm back home, which is never often enough or long enough, Dad would ask what I'd like to eat, then get Mum's advise on what to buy and head off to the market shopping. I'd have a fiesta on Saturdays, then a siesta afterwards, belly swollen like a python. Another feast would ensue the next day before I depart, sometimes with containers of goodies for Pick Yin.



I've never managed to seriously pick up complete recipes from Mum. Whatever lessons I've gotten were during those times in the kitchen with her. Honestly, I don't know how much skills I've managed to get from her during those times but I think it did help me form some basic understanding of working with ingredients, tastes and textures. Recently though, I've decided to improve on what I got so when I was back home during the New Year, I got Mum to give me two of my favorite chicken recipes that I know I can pull off.



I told a very excited Pick Yin that I wanted to attempt my first of Mum's recipe, got my chicken and other stuffs from supermarket and got busy in what would normally be Pick Yin's territory (which she guards fiercely). The end result though, didn't meet my expectations although Pick Yin liked it. I was quite disappointed at not being able to replicate a dish as simple as this to how Mum's tasted. The texture, consistency and everything else were spot on but somehow the taste didn't quite match Mum's. However, my other half pushed me on and suggested that it might be quality of the soy sauce since not all are born equal. So I decided to attempt it again. This time I had on hand a different brand of soy sauce - courtesy of Pick Yin's mum (we are so lucky to have our mothers!). All the way from KL, the Malaysian soy sauce was used for our Lunar New Year dishes and many more after that. This time the result was about 95 percent close to how Mum does it - that 5 percent difference would require another session with her to see what I missed. Pick Yin, of course, loved it.



Thanks Mum for the recipe and all the wonders you’ve given me my entire life. You've inspired me in so many ways, cooking with love is one of them.

Chicken Kicap (Soy Sauce Chicken)
A simple recipe from home
Serves 4

Notes:

Wok versus Pot: You can always use a well-sized pot (big enough to hold the chicken and allow for stirring) instead of a wok. I use the wok, as it is what Mum usually uses and I find it easier to see if I’ve coated everything well. However, bear in mind the heat distribution of both wok and pots are different. Woks heat up faster and can cause your chicken to stick and damage the skin if it’s left too long without being moved around.

Type of soy sauce: Without doubt this is the single most important ingredient (other than the chicken) so the quality will most definitely play a role in the final taste.

Balance of salt and soy sauce: This dish is not an exact science. You can always put in an additional dash of soy sauce, but remember that light soy sauce is salty. If you put in more of it, you may want to reduce the salt a little.

Stir, stir, and stir: This dish has very little sauce and most of what you end up with at end comes from the juices of the chicken and the caramelized onions so do make sure you stir well to ensure an evened out coating of sauce and other ingredients.

• 1 kilogram chicken, cut into portion pieces


• 2 onions, chopped finely


• 4-5 cloves garlic, chopped


• 3-5 cloves garlic, whole


• 1 inch ginger, sliced thinly


• 2 tablespoons thick soy sauce


• 2 tablespoons light soy sauce


• 2-3 dry chilies chopped (discard seeds for less heat)


• ½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper


• ½-¾ teaspoon salt


• 1 stalk coriander, chopped


• 2 tablespoons oil

Heat the oil in a large wok over medium heat. Add the garlic, followed almost immediately by the chopped dry chilies. Wait for the aroma to develop from the chili. Avoid burning them. Add the onion and ginger. Give it a quick toss.

Add the chicken and mix well, coating the chicken pieces with the oil and all the ingredients. This is especially important if you’re using a wok, so that you don’t end up burning the skin of the chicken from direct dry contact with the wok.

Add both the thick and light soy sauce. Once again, stir, stir and stir, making sure the sauce is evenly spread and all the chicken pieces have a slight color from the soy sauce. Add in the salt and pepper. Mix well.

Cover on low heat for about 15-20 minutes. If you took a long time to get here from the time you put in the chicken, then use very low heat while allowing the chicken to cook covered. During this period open the cover every now and then to give it a toss. After 15 minutes, test a piece of thigh for doneness.

Add in the coriander just before serving. Best with steaming warm rice, sauce and all.

Continue reading Chicken Kicap