Recipes

This is intended for the team members of "Team Amateur". For easy sharing, I've decided put the recipes of the extras I prepared on this blog. All measurements are not precise because I normally just taste and adjust as I go along.

Hainanese Chicken Rice

The chicken
Ingredients:
Chicken stock
Scallions (to taste)
Garlic (to taste)
Ginger (to taste)
Salt (to taste)
Chickens
Sesame oil
Soy sauce
Scallions
Cilantro

I start with a chicken stock (or water and chicken backs). Flavour stock with scallions, garlic, ginger and salt to taste. Cook chickens in stock. Most Chinese cooks prepare the chicken such that there is sometimes still a touch (just a touch) of pink at the bone of the thigh - this prevents the breast of the chicken from being too stringy and dry. The proper technique is to take the chickens out when done and immediately dunk them in a salted ice bath just long enough to stop the cooking process. Then take them out and rub sesame oil over the skin. This prevents discolouration and drying out. Do not butcher until ready to serve. (Obviously I didn't quite follow the proper technique...). 15 min before serving, cut into pieces and dress in sesame oil, soy sauce, scallions and cilantro.

The rice
The ingredients:
Garlic, half a large bulb
Ginger, about the same quantity as garlic
Long grain rice, pref Jasmine, about 4 cups
Rendered chicken fat (enough to coat rice, say half cup)
Chicken stock, about 6 cups or so
Pandan leaf. 2 (optional, but adds lots of flavour)
Salt (to taste)

When cleaning the chickens, I would cut out and reserve any excess fat I can find (lots near the neck, around the skin of the neck, and near the butt). Render this fat in a dry pan without excessive browning. Remove chicken skin remnants. Puree the garlic and ginger together, then fry this garlic and ginger in the fat until aromatic, but not coloured. Pour dry uncooked rice into the fat and fry until some of the grains turn opaque - this shows the fat is being absorbed. There should be just enough fat to coat every grain evenly. Pour rice mixture into pot or rice cooker, add stock, salt, and pandan leaf, anf cook until done.

The chilli sauce (or relish)
(Will - if you bottle some variation of this, you have to send me one.)
Ingredients:
Red mild chillis or red bell peppers, 1 part
Garlic, 1 part
Ginger, 1 part
Thai bird or habernaro chillis, to taste
Lime juice, to taste
Fish sauce, to taste
Sugar, to taste
Kaffir lime leaf, 2, rib removed (optional)

Blitz everything in a blender until smooth. It is meant to be a dip but I think it's probably fine to leave some of the red pepper pieces chunky if preferred.


Sweet and Sour Sauce
(This is for Lisa.)

Ingredients:
Ketchup
Zhejiang vinegar (or white rice vinegar is fine)
Sugar
Chilli puree or Tabasco sauce
Pomagranate molasses (optional)
Soy sauce
Cornstarch mixture

Mix all of the above except cornstarch solution to taste (Sorry it's so imprecise). I would use a vegetable base of garlic, onions, bell peppers, chillis and some acidic fruit (like pineapple or strawberries) for the sweet-sour, and thicken with the cornstarch mixture The main protein is usually deep-fried in a light batter or dry cornflour coating before being mixed with the sauce, but grilled items work as well for a low fat version.

Nazi in the Kitchen

There were 2 parts to the final day of our course. The first part was to prepare a Vietnamese menu (pho, stirfry, rice paper rolls) and the second was to perfectly panfry steak to medium-rare in a pan, and then make a classic pan sauce. My course mates would be surprised to hear that even the Vietnamese menu was challenging to me because, truth is, while I know most of the individual ingredients and have eaten authentic street food in Vietnam, I have never combined the ingredients the way the Vietnamese do it.

Anyway at least for the frst part the menu, I was a bit of a Nazi (I hope I didn't step on anyone's toes!). I took it upon myself to coordinate the soup and the rice rolls, and because there was so much left over chicken, I also decided to make classic Hainanese chicken rice with the chilli sauce to go with it.

Everything went fairly smoothly. What I did not anticipate was the rice paper being so difficult to work with (sticky %^#*$ bastards), and I forgot to think ahead about how to present the pho. Also I could not find the big slightly spicy sweet red chillis we typically use for the chilli sauce, so I improvised - I used red peppers (no heat, just for the colour) and added thai bird and habenero chillis (lots of heat) to the mix. It turned out perfectly.

For the second part of the menu, my group made the classic brown sauces of bercy, financiere and robert sauces. Ooohh YUM. I think the minute I get home, I'm going to start a beef/duck stock for demi-glaze and just freeze a batch. I'm also going to buy a nice bottle of Madeira - It was such a revelation to discover how awesome this liquer tastes flambed in a sauce! I can't wait!!

Beans Beans Beans

Mexican food in Asia is dismal to say the least. I think of it as greasy, sloppy, tomatoey, beany (oorgh), one-dimensional hot-with-no-other-spice-overtones food. Today however opened my eyes to another side of the cuisine.

Today the amateurs got placed into the same group, an arrangement which worked much better. We had to prepare a Mexican menu (excellent for me because I have zero experience preparing the cuisine), and dishes of note were the snapper stuffed with seafood and the seviche. I learnt how to remove the backbone of a whole fish without butchering the skin (not easy), as well as how to prep a cactus (spiky slimy bastards!). What really struck me was how similar to South-East Asian cuisine the marinade was for the fish - chillis, coriander, limes and garlic - it's like Thai without the lemongrass and galangal.

What do I think of Mexican food now? Well, I still don't like beans and sloppy tomatoes, so I'm yet to be convinced about chili and chili-derivative dishes. And I still think the spice and herb overtones can be turned up. But I guess that is an unfair comment as I am used to associating spicy-hot with other equally strong herbs and spices. I really did enjoy the seafood-based and non-bean dishes.

Flied Lice Paladise

Fwah. Todayy ah my gloup cooka Chinesey and all them lestaunt plofessional donno what dey doin. Dey all cooka clappy Texa-Mexi fooda in deir lastaunts. Yukk. I sooow dem how to flavour a flied lice and make-a sweet sour shlimp.

Ahhh. Some molon luin da flied shlimp. Forget to season batter and underfly da shlimp. Soggy batter. Ooorgh.

Fwah. I speaka gooda Englis and I make-a good sweet-sour. Flice lice paladise!!

Out of My League

Today was the first day of classes at the Culinary Institute of America where I am dong the "Career Discovery: The Flavours of Napa Valley" course, and I found myself completely out of my league here. For a start, of the 18 participants in the class, 14 are sponsored food professionals, of which 12 are men. Only 4 are paying students (all female, myself included). All 14 of them have had some form of professional kitchen experience, and I count 2 current sous chefs, 2 or 3 line cooks, one head pastry chef, a few kitchen operations managers, and a couple of senior executives... PHEW!

To say I learnt a lot about cooking today would be a complete understatement. Without doing the course proper justice, but for the sake of conciseness, I will list a few of these new insights here:

1. I worked in a professional kitchen for the first time. WOW. Makes my relatively well-togged out home kitchen look like kiddy-play.

2. Everything is hot. Burners and ovens work at much much higher temperatures. Do not ever grab a pan or pot without a mitt or a towel.

3. Everything is heavy. I almost keeled over under the weight of a not-that-big pot of boiling water.

4. It is physically challenging. For close to 4 hours, I was on my feet chopping, moving, mixing, kneading, rolling. It was hard work and my feet still hurt right now.

5. I learnt how to clean a fresh artichoke for the first time.

6. I made gnocchi for the first time. (I don't even like the stuff...)

7. I learnt proper knife skills.

8. The pros in my class have a lot of industry experience and tricks up their sleeves, but they are not perfect. My lunch quail for instance, which was made by 2 line cooks, was beautifully flavoured but undercooked (tsk tsk...).

9. Presentation, presentation, presentation.

10. I discovered I actually already know quite a number of the techniques they teach (it feels good...) :)

Pet peeves? Just a few.

1. I can't help but think that some of the pros aren't that passionate about food. I guess for them, it's a job, it pays the bills, they are here because their employer sent them. 'Nuff said.

2. The pros have their own set ways of doing things, and I can't help but feel I'm slowing things down.

3. Someone trying to explain authoritatively to me what an emulsion is (this person by the way, is not even a kitchen person, but runs "front-of-the-house"). I mean - HELLO, I know what an emulsion is. I aced chemistry, I make bearnaise, hollandaise, aioli all the time.

4. Getting asked why my English is so good. Uh................................. Because I am a native speaker, I scored 6/6 in GMAT writing??! (sorry could not help that...)

But I had fun. A lot of fun. Would I recommend the course to others? Well I think if one came fresh without any home cooking experience at all, it would be very tough and demoralizing. Granted, the instructors did mention that to have a majority of food professionals in the course is quite atypical, but I think the instructors themselves assume some level of basic kitchen proficiency even among the amateurs. But for me, it is the right level. It pushed me to think about food at a different level. I can't wait for tomorrow.

PS. CIA did not manage to score us a table at The French Laundry. What they did manage to get us was a table at Thomas Keller's new restaurant. Ad Hoc. I had the best cheesesteaks and cayenne crisps there today. YUM.

Strange Animal Parts

I will admit, I like to sample strange animal parts. I think the complex flavour of most offal adds an almost primal dimension to tastes we associate with "meaty" or "gamey". So I could not really pass up the chance to sample that French classic, veal kidneys in a brandied creamed sauce, when I saw it on a menu today.

Onroute from sussing out the 20-minute drive between Calistoga (where my hotel is) and the Culinary Institute of America (where I start my course tomorrow), I decided to stop at Bistro Jeanty at Yountville for dinner, where I ordered those veal kidneys.

Now if you have ever had pork kidneys, you will know what strong tasting means. Pork kidneys are so strong in flavour they have to be soaked in salted water overnight to rid them of the urea-ry (for lack of a better word) smell and taste. But prepared well, the flavour and texture are superb, rich and complex. I happen to be a fan of that disappearing Hokkien heritage dish of highly acquired tastes, yeo chee mee sua (braised pork kidneys with wheat vermicelli in broth) - my late grandmother had a kick-ass recipe which she unfortunately did not manage to pass on to any of her children.

Veal kidneys, on the other hand, are a lot milder. I would almost describe the taste as sweet and delicate, a slightly gamier version of sweetbreads, and the texture somewhat like firm mushrooms. Deelish!

Surprise your Palate

I have always found bagels to be plain, heavy and stodgy, but I discovered this morning the reason for that is because those found in Asia exist solely from the deep-frozen variety.

I nipped into the beakfast room at my hotel for a quick snack before venturing out to find a decent coffee. The croissants looked distinctly "warmed-from-frozen" so I made the unnatural choice of a bagel. I was very pleasantly surprised.

The bagel was soft, and chewy, and dense but light at the same time. Although untoasted, it was not unpalatable like the ones from Starbucks in Singapore, and certainly did not taste of freezer burn. What a revelation!

I can't say bagels have become my favourite bread - I still find them to be on the heavy side - but at least I know to ask "Is it made from scratch?" next time I see one.

A Day of Many Firsts

It has been a day of many firsts - first day in California, first time in California, first time taking a solo driving holiday, first time driving on the other side of the road, first time putting petrol into a car (!)... the list goes on.

So anyway, I arrived rather uneventfully in San Francisco last night. Having enjoyed a very peaceful slumber for most of the 11-hour flight here, I obviously had a sleepless night at the El Rancho Motel (which by the way is a faux Mexican, pink cattle ranch smack next to a 4 lane highway a mile from the airport!!)

I did not let the pink, nor the terrible brown liquid masquerading as coffee, nor even the grouchy Hispanic servers (why oh why do I still have to tip bad service?!) get me down. This morning, I picked up my geeky little rental car and I was off, down Highway 101, across the Golden Gate Bridge, and into Wine Country!

It was noon by the time I wound my way through various bits of traffic into Sonoma, which was, despite being overrun by lots of tourists, easy-going, leafy, and very cute. I decided to stop for lunch. Unfortunately, I did not realise my first port of call, Cafe la Haye (Lonely Planet: "One of Sonoma County's best"), only served dinner. Second destination was girl & the fig, which turned out to be an awesome choice - the courtyard was perfect, food delicious, and service impeccable.

I ordered the "pastis-infused steamed mussels", guessing that patis was some sort of liquer - after all, I would make this dish myself with white wine or vodka. (Wikipedia says "pastis" is "an anise-flavoured liquer" from France.) Of course being extremely hungry and greedy as usual, and always forgetting that I go from very hungry to very full in about 3 bites and 5 minutes, I ambitiously decided to go for the optional extra of "matchstick fries with tarragon aioli". YUM.

The food was faultless (or maybe I was just very hungry?). The mussels came steeped in a creamed liquid which had a base of garlic, shallots, fennel, parsley, and another herb (thyme?). The matchstick fries were perfectly done, and the tarragon aioli fresh and homemade. Unfortunately I barely got close to finishing the mussels, and most of the fries went untouched. Oh well.

Hitting a wall after lunch (by which time it was about 5.30am in Asia), I ordered myself a strong macchiato before getting on the road again. I had booked myself into a motel in Healdsburg (which at $229 was the cheapest available anywhere close after many phone calls and walk-ins), but what looked like a 50 mile drive turned into an-hour-and-a-half slow chug through the horrific traffic of Santa Rosa.

From what little I have seen driving through the centre, Healdsburg is a very pretty little town. Lonely Planet also says of Healdburg: "Foodies may think the've died and gone to heaven." However all I was prepared to do when I arrived was to pass out. I'm also too full from lunch to savour a big dinner, so I think I'll have to save the Healdburg dining experience for lunch tomorrow!