Kaya Toast anyone?

Despite having cooked somewhat seriously or otherwise for the last ten years, it had never occured to me to try to make bread. I think it was a combination of the lack of counterspace for kneading, along with the intimidation at working with a live culture (yeast!) that probably deterred me for the longest time.

However now that I have plenty of counterspace in my new(ish) home, the former reason is no longer an impediment. After much hesitation, I read up on recipes and techniques in The Joy of Cooking and decided to give it a whirl.

I have to say, I've been absolutely bowled over by the results. The first time I tried, I made pizza and focaccia. Pizza turned out great, focaccia was ok but a bit hard (the pan was probably too large so it turned out biscuitey). I made foccacia again the following week, and this turned out perfectly - I made little panini sandwiches to serve up for poker night. I was so inspired, I also decided to make a batch of milk buns at the same sitting (they were devoured as hot dog buns after a long night of poker and much $$ changing hands...)

There's just something mechanical about kneading dough by hand that seems to help take the stress of work and daily life off my mind. It's just amazing how it's one of the oldest techniques known to mankind, yet the results are always pure alchemy - how does powder plus liquid plus heat equal crusty-on-the-outside-but-soft-on the-inside substenance?

I am so inspired, I have even attempted to make kaya (coconut curd)! Kaya calls for another post of its own, but for now, all I will say is attempt number one turned out ok except the colour is too light (I'll make sure to caramalize the sugar first next time...).

Now all I have to do is wait for my brioche to finish baking so that I can eat it with kaya and butter... Mmmmm...

Masochism... (aka Tunnel-Boning)

Now before anyone misinterprets the title of this post and thinks tunnel-boning is a BDSM fetish... fat hope! This is only a food blog remember? Now read on..

Last Saturday, I decided to serve roasted quails for the main course again. The last time I served this was about 6 weeks back, and while it was all tasty enough, I didn't manage to tunnel-bone the birds properly (left the spine intact), and also they came out a touch overdone. Practise makes perfect as they say, and I just had to try to perfect this dish.

I could have bought quails at the big Times Square CitySuper that already come tunnel-boned (albeit at a slightly higher price). But no... you see, somehow I had this unexplainable, irresistable urge to tunnel-bone the quails myself. For those unfamiliar with the term, tunnel-boning is the technique of removing the ribcage and spine of poultry though the neck opening while keeping the skin and meat completely intact and unbroken. So when stuffed, the tunnel-boned birds will look like they've never been deboned, but can be cut right through for ease of eating (quails are fiddly to eat if not deboned). Sounds impossible? Well I just had to try it again.

You see, I actually enjoy the prepping process in cooking. Whether it be peeling potatoes, mincing garlic, gutting fish or deboning meat, I view it as a holistic and intrinsic part of the culinary journey. If you know how to prep your own ingredients, you will end up having more respect for the food you cook. Tunnel-boning just sounded like something I had to master.

After brining the birds, I culled some imprecise instructions from the internet and set about deboning the fiddly creatures. First I slid my paring knife under the breast meat near the neck opening and cut out the wish bone, then i used my fingers to slowly work the flesh away from the rib cage. That bit was easy enough. The tricky bit came when I attempted to loosen the skin away from the bony spine. I managed to rip through 2 birds (so had to butterfly them instead). Fortunately I managed to sucessfully tunnel bone the other 2 birds. (One of them did have a tiny tear but it was salvageable). All in, I must have spent an hour and a half working on the 4 birds. I don't know if I was doing it correctly, but when I was done with the tunnel-boning, the birds were almost turned inside out!

I stuffed the birds with a mushroom and bacon breadcrumb mix, trussed them,then roasted them for 20 minutes over a charcoal fire. I have to say, the result was great and the birds turned out not only looking very presentable, but tasted absolutely delicious and were so easy to eat with no finicky bones to pick through. I know you can't really tell from the photo (and yes I do need to start taking better pictures, I can hear you think), but I swear there are no bones in that quail save for the legs... No kidding!!

Babi in Bali

Bali is one of my all-time favourite destinations. Regardless of how far we venture or how exotic the other locales, we always seem to come back to Bali at least once a year (more often than not, 2-3 times a year). Of course we never fail to eat badly here - one would not expect any less of someone like me - and this obviously adds to the allure of the sun, sand and surf.

We have done the old favourites many times over - classics like Made's Warung, Kafe Warisan, La Lucciola, Bebek Begil and many others usually satisfy for a fraction of the price back home. This time, we decided to try the newly opened and VERY upscale Indonesian restaurant Sankha at the Bvlgari Resort. I mean, c'mon, if we can't afford to shell out USD1,500 a night for a room, at least we can splash out at dinner, right?

The restaurant was deserted by the time we rolled up at 10pm (driver got lost...), so we got the best seat in the house, right by the cliff overlooking the private beach. The view was stunning and the atmosphere was very romantic. Most importantly though, the food was absolutely EXQUISITE. We ordered the sambal kangkong, a selection of satay and the tamarind and coconut marinated chicken, all classic Indonesian specialities. You're probably thinking right now we must be mad to make the 45min drive to Bvlgari Resort to order what we could theoretically have had at the warung down the street for next to nothing. But this wasn't just any warung though - it was Sankha, and it was awesome.

Most ethnic cuisines which are borne out of times of need, tend to use judiciously herbs and spices to make the most of the little (or poor quality produce) they have. Indonesian cuisine is one such example, and when you take these beautiful spice blends (rempah) and cook them with better cuts of meat, the results are stunning. Sankha is a great example of this - the satays were made of good chunky cuts, and the chicken was Australian corn-fed, not some kampung bird! Also of note is the use of udang geringo (tiny dried shrimp) in the kangkong - a feature not often seem but which gave it just that extra ooomph. YUM.


Fine dining aside, Bali's most famous dish has got to be the babi guling - a whole spit-slow-roasted pig with the crispiest skin imaginable, melt in your mouth fat, some unidentifiable crispy bits(probably pig innards if u ask me) and meat that is shredded and mixed with a fiery spice mix, served over rice. It is so iconic, Anthony Bourdain has featured it on his No Reservations show, and both significant Singaporean food personalities Chubby Hubby and KF Seetoh have reviewed and raved about the dish.


On our way to golf up in Bedugul, we asked our guide to stop at "the best babi guling shop you know". He nodded silently and seemed to drive forever, finally stopping at a tiny little roadside store next to the padi fields of central Bali. The lady-owner of Agung Ayu Babi Guling was almost sold out of babi, but she did manage to rustle up a few bits for us. Maybe we were just hungry after the longer-than-expected drive, but the food definitely didn't disappoint. Well as they say, fat is flavour, and babi guling certainly isn't short on flavour. And while Agung Ayu might not be the BEST babi guling shop on the island (Ibu Oka in Ubud is reputed to be the best), I've never been to Ibu Oka, and I was pretty damn happy with what we found anyway.

I mean, how can crispy pig NOT taste good?