A Load of Cow (And Other Strange Bits)

S and I were in Argentina over Christmas and we of course looked forward to the oodles of good beef we expected to find there. Our expectations were so high that during one particularly hungry afternoon driving between San Francisco and LA, S declared to me that he was "going to eat steak for both lunch and dinner everyday".

We weren't disappointed. The first afternoon after we arrived in Buenos Aires, we set out to find some lunch - beef of course. We ambled into a "parilla al carbon" - essentially just a casual grill place where every imaginable cut of beef was on display above a bed of white hot coals. We quickly got seated and ordered the "mixed grill" for a grand total of USD12.

Now in case you are thinking "mixed grill" equates to a Jack's Place special of chewy sirloin, shrivelled chicken sausage and tough lamb chop (sorry Jack's...), you're absolutely wrong. What turned up was truely the Argentinian version - 2 huge pieces of flank, large portion of short ribs, chorizo, 2 huge chicken breasts (what do they feed the chickens in Argentina?!), all topped off with a massive portion of what some might consider disturbing but which are regarded as delicacies in Argentina - blood sausage, beef kidney, sweetbreads and intestines. YUM. We washed it all down with a bottle of cheap local wine (USD5 - nothing like getting sloshed at lunch while on holiday!). I did think some of the meats (especially the chicken) was overcooked, but the beef was of excellent quality, and I wasn't going to complain given the quantity we got).

The next night, we decided to make the trip to Siga La Vaca, a well-regarded and more upmarket parilla located in a trendy part of town. In true castellano tradition, we turned up at 11.30pm and were greeted by a very lively and noisy dining room full of patrons just getting into their dinners. The deal this restaurant was doing was a "eat all you can" buffet of salad starters and beef main course. The grill had just about every single part of cow on it (including the offal mentioned above, and more) - all you had to do was to roll up and point at the desired part, and the chef would slice off a generous portion for you. All this plus dessert and a bottle of wine for USD15 each. BURP.

The Argentinian cow is actually leaner than its American, Canadian or Australian cousins, yet in its own way, is tastier in a "beefier" sort of way, even if it is a little chewier. It's not unakin to getting more beef in a single bite. The locals attribute it to the quality grass the cows munch on in Argentina, and the exercise they get.

Anyway, by the time we made it to Chile, we were, unsurprisingly, beefed-out. We took a recommendation from the internet to go to the Santa Rita vineyard for lunch - this was a pleasant 45 minute drive through countryside and small towns from downtown Santiago. It was almost a relief to see the menu had a heavy emphasis on seafood (excellent mussels!) and lamb. Being the intrepid and adventurous gourmand, I of course had to try the strangest thing on the menu (and one offally bit I've never before had) - a fricasse of lamb testes.

The waiter was definitely impressed - I'm not sure by my "appreciation" of local cuisine, or my courage - in any case he said to me that it was "one of the best dishes in the menu". He was not wrong - the dish was delicious. The said potentially offensive bit had been sliced up and cooked with herbs, eggs, peas, onions and all sorts of other delicious things I could not quite discern. In fact I would go as far as to say the testes taste like a yummier and more delicate version of sweetbreads (and mind you - I like my lamb sweetbreads). S even grudging admitted the dish was good (after I cajoled him into trying some).

We definitely ate well this trip - I think a suitable New Year's resolution might be to go on a diet...

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?

Reflections

The course has come to an end now and I could not be sorrier. After 4 days of doing nothing but eat, sleep, and dream food, I suddenly feel like the bottom has fallen out of my world. I still wake up at 6am with the anticipation of cooking the day's menu, only to realise 2 minutes later that "hang on, there are no classes today - I don't have to be up so early".

Looking back, I just think this has got to be one of the best "vacations" I have ever taken. It was not relaxing - on the contrary, it was exhausting and sometimes stressful, what with the 7am starts and 4 hours on the feet rushing for lunch service. However,I am in my element in the kitchen, and to me, a cohesive team working together like that feels like a well-tuned orchestra giving a recital. I have not been so intellectually challenged and motivated since university, and I can't think of a time that I have ever been happier in my day job.

I took out of the course more than just mere recipes. I acquired techniques and tricks, learnt all about flavour dynamics, and rediscovered just how passionate I feel about food. I made good friends on the course as well - it is just absolutely amazing how that instant connection is established through the one single commonality - the love of making good food.

Where do I go from here? Well, I know now where my heart lies, even if I am unsure whether it is something I want to do for a living. I know I am a more-than-decent cook right now, and I could be really great at this, but I don't know if I could ever be a great chef. I know the restaurant business is hard, and I am under no illusions that the reality is quite different - not just about the food, but really about the entire package that is delivered to the consumer. This dilemma continues to befuddle me.

What I do know is this - the minute I get home, I'm getting started on my demi-glace from duck bones, and with the rest of the duck, I'm going to have fillets to make steak (like magret), legs to make confit, and a 6 month store of home-rendered duck fat. YUM.

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!