Mee Siam

Prostitute, as in to put one's abilities to base or unworthy use. There was a man who refused to prostitute himself: Ong Teng Cheong, President of Singapore, 1993-1999.

As the Head of State, Ong Teng Cheong was entrusted with the task of protecting Singapore's past financial reserves. He had the power to veto any withdrawal – in theory.

In reality, President Ong didn't even know how much reserves there were until 1996. He got the information only because he asked, and kept asking for three whole years. Then in 1998, the state-owned Post Office Savings Bank and the national reserves it was holding was divested without even his knowledge, never mind consent. He had to remind the cabinet that the divestment without his permission was against the Constitution of Singapore. And there were no procedures for the protection of past reserves. So he went about setting up the procedures, and that took him his entire six-year presidential term.

The upshot of Ong Teng Cheong's efforts was that when he died in 2002, the by then ex-President of Singapore didn't get a state funeral.

The task of standing guard over state reserves started with Ong Teng Cheong's immediate predecessor, Wee Kim Wee. This was what Ong Teng Cheong said when Asiaweek interviewed him in 2000:

'Wee Kim Wee, although he was not elected, was supposed to play that role [of guarding reserves] during the last two years of his term. But he did not actively check.'

In fact, Wee Kim Wee's daughter did not even mention safeguarding the reserves when she wrote her cookbook, Cooking for the President. Neither did she talk about safeguarding the integrity of the public service, which was/is the president's other primary duty. This was the only time she touched on 'constitutional duties', on page 47:

'Apart from his constitutional duties, Daddy together with Mummy performed official duties and participated in many official and public events.'

The Head of State's constitutional duties were simply brushed aside by Wee Eng Hwa, a lawyer by profession. She preferred to talk about the presidential motorcade, the split second timing of state occasions, and her father's attendance of this and that event, such as the National Day Parade. In case readers don't know how grandly Daddy was greeted by adoring commoners and soldiers at the annual bash to celebrate the Federation of Malaya kicking Singapore's butt in 1965, she inserted a two-page photo of said moment in her cookbook. And she also inserted an old photo of herself grinning from ear to ear whilst holding The Straits Times. The front page headline on 28 August 1985 was, 'Wee Kim Wee to be President'. And the caption for the photo read, 'Eng Hwa's most joyful moment, knowing that her father has finally arrived at the top'.

What did Wee Kim Wee himself think of his position 'at the top'? He said:

'In my time as President, if I can make just 50 people happy, I would have done my part.'

50 people???!!! Wow . . . very . . . ambitious, wasn't he? He wanted to make a whopping 0.0017% of the population happy! A lesser man might have gone for, um, five or 0.00017%? I don't know if he achieved his 'aggressive' target but he got a state funeral when he died in 2005, unlike Ong Teng Cheong. Which other president or ex-president has passed away without a state funeral? The one who didn't die in Singapore – Devan Nair.



After bashing the man, I'd so love to bash the recipes in Cooking for the President. Trouble is, I can't find any that's bad! All of the 200-plus recipes look good, and a few have been flagged by the author as particularly outstanding, such as Sok Hiong's Mee Siam. Sok who? That's Koh Sok Hiong, the woman who married Wee Kim Wee.

Mrs Wee regularly brought happiness to not just 50 but 500 people, and more. In Singapore, and Malaysia and Japan where her husband was the ambassador, she invited 500 guests at a time, and laid out an entire spread of Nyonya delicacies for them. In fact, her cooking 'took Tokyo by storm', as it did Kuala Lumpur. Mee siam was one the guests' firm favourites, along with sambal udang and chicken satay.

The magic in Sok Hiong's Mee Siam is the bee hoon made with a killer ingredient: coconut milk. Thick, fresh milk is fried till all the water has evaporated, leaving the curds which are nicely browned, and the oil which smells like . . . like . . . ? Ah yes, it smells like the MRT trains but, I must emphasize, in an absolutely GOOD way.

The coconut oil is then used to fry dried chillies, shallots, belachan and taucheo. This aromatic, spicy paste is mixed with the coconut curds, plus another not-found-in-other-recipes ingredient: tomato ketchup. Finally, it's tossed with coarse bee hoon. This dry mee siam is, I tell ya, nothing short of presidential. It's so good it can be totally eaten on its own, but it's even better with mee siam sauce that's made with assam gelugoh to give it the right type of sourness. Yup, all those recipes that have only assam jawa or worse, don't have assam anything at all (like LKY's mother's), chuck 'em in the bin. As for the people who use Prima's mee siam paste, I'm praying for them . . . . Just kidding!

If you're not on Mrs or Ms Wee's rarefied guest list, never mind. You now have the recipe for Sok Hiong's Mee Siam (and her Sambal Udang). It's by far the best mee siam recipe I've seen, way better than those of Mrs Leong Yee Soo and LKY's mother, and any I've seen online. Wee Eng Hwa said her mother's mee siam was famous in Singapore, Kuala Lumpur and Tokyo. I believe her – just on this.

SOK HIONG'S MEE SIAM (NYONYA SPICY RICE VERMICELLI) Source: Cooking for the President, by Wee Eng Hwa (Recipe for 12 full size portions, or 20-25 small portions) Bee hoon 1 kg coarse dried bee hoon (Chinese rice vermicelli) 6 large pieces firm beancurd (960 g) vegetable oil for deep-frying 540 ml fresh undiluted coconut milk (2¼ cups) or 1 kg grated coconut, squeeze for 480 ml '1st milk', plus cream of 480 ml '2nd milk' 40 g dried chillies soak in warm water till soft, about 30 minutes; squeeze dry 375 g shallots peel, wash, and pound with dried chillies till fine 8 g belachan toast till dry and pound till fine to yield 2 tsp powder 90 g light brown taucheo (fermented soya beans) paste 130 ml tomato ketchup salt to taste, about 1 tbsp Sauce 40 g dried chillies soak in warm water till soft, about 30 minutes; squeeze dry 375 g shallots peel, wash and pound with dried chillies till fine 12 g belachan toast till dry and pound till fine to yield 1 tbsp powder 120 g light brown taucheo (fermented soya beans) paste 50 prawns weighing about 1 kg prawns 2 pieces assam gelugoh (tamarind skin), adjust to taste (I used 8 pieces) 60 g assam jawa (tamarind paste) 80 g sugar 2 tsp salt Finishing touch 350 g Chinese chives, wash, trim and cut 2 cm long 5 hard-boiled eggs, peel and slice crosswise 10 calamansi limes, halve crosswise and discard seeds This recipe is a hell of a lot of work! I'd suggest setting aside a good 2 hours or so for the first attempt. The good news is, it's quite idiot-proof, and you can make it one day ahead. Have fun! Mee siam goes well with sambal udang. Follow Mrs Wee's recipe here but use 1 kg small prawns – about 50 pieces, shelled for easy eating – instead of medium ones on the shell. To prepare bee hoon, cook according to package instructions till soft but still very springy. Do not overcook. Refresh in cold water to stop the cooking. Set aside to drain. Halve each piece of beancurd and cut crosswise 5 mm thick. Deep-fry in hot oil over medium-high heat for 5 minutes. Reduce heat to medium-low. Continue frying till lightly golden (mine were a bit too brown). Remove and divide into 2 equal portions. Fry coconut milk over low heat till oil separates and curds form. Increase heat to medium. Fry till curds are medium brown. Drain to separate curds and oil. You should now have about 100 ml coconut oil, 100 g curds, and a dirty wok (unless yours is non-stick or really well seasoned). Set oil aside, grind curds till fine, and wash wok, in any order you like. With coconut oil made, stir-fry dried chillies and shallots over medium to low heat till reddish brown and aromatic. If paste sticks to wok, drizzle with 1 tbsp water, scrape to loosen sticky bits, then continue frying. Add 2 tsp belachan powder and stir through. Push mixture to one side. Put 2 tsp vegetable oil in the middle of the wok. Add 90 g taucheo. Fry till intensely aromatic, adding 1 tbsp water and scraping if it sticks. Stir taucheo and chilli paste together. Turn off heat. Leave till cool. Add tomato ketchup, coconut curds and salt. Mix thoroughly. Add bee hoon and half of fried beancurd. Using (clean) hands, toss till thoroughly mixed. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Cover and set aside. Refrigerate if necessary. Allow to come to room temperature before serving. To make sauce, stir-fry dried chillies and shallots in 100 ml vegetable oil over medium to low heat till reddish brown and aromatic. If paste sticks to wok, drizzle with 1 tbsp water, scrape to loosen sticky bits, then continue frying. Add 1 tbsp belachan powder and stir through. Push mixture to one side. Put 1 tbsp vegetable oil in the middle of the wok. Add 120 g taucheo. Fry till intensely aromatic, adding 1 tbsp water and scraping if it sticks. Stir taucheo and chilli paste together. Set aside. Shell prawns, leaving tails on. Devein and wash. Dry-fry shells and heads (together with those from Sambal Udang if making) till red and fragrant. Add enough water to cover, along with assam gelugoh, assam paste, sugar and salt. Bring to a boil and simmer gently, covered, for 15 minutes. If assam paste is not yet disintegrated, mash with spoon and stir through. With a slotted spoon/spatula, remove and discard shells, etc, leaving only stock. Poach prawns in the stock till just cooked. Remove to cool down. Measure stock and top up with water to 1.4 litres. Add fried chilli paste. Stir through. Bring back to a boil. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Turn off heat. 'The sourness, saltiness and sweetness of the sauce are so balanced that none of them dominate. The sauce is more savoury than sweet. The assam (tamarind) flavour in the sauce is assertive, but not sharp. Towchew (preserved brown soya bean paste) and prawn flavour are essential, but not obtrusively dominant.' Cooking for the President, by Wee Eng Hwa To serve, heat up sauce if necessary. Place bee hoon in a plate. Add sauce sparingly, about ½ cup for each full size portion. (Presidential mee siam doesn't swim in lots of sauce, unlike those from hawker centres!) Top with eggs, poached prawns, sambal udang if available, beancurd, and chives. Squeeze lime over mee siam and dig in.

Gong Bao Frog Legs

Back when I was a little girl and living in a kampong, I would jump with joy whenever it rained at night. Why? Because my father would go frog hunting, and there would be a big pot of frog porridge for supper – Teochew style, of course; none of that sticky Cantonese stuff like in Geylang!

The frogs my father caught were wild and, of course, live. If my memory serves me correctly, he didn't use any bait or special equipment except a torchlight. He basically just reached out and grabbed the ones that were croaking the loudest.

(If you're a frog reading this, remember not to croak too loudly when it rains, and my father is in your neighbourhood. And you should leave this blog post immediately, because you really don't want to read the next bit.)

To slaughter a frog, my father grabbed it firmly around the armpits, then chopped off their heads. This required a bit of skill because he had to leave the head half attached rather than lop it off completely. And do so without hacking off his own hand, of course. Next, he grabbed hold of the head and yanked, tearing out the entire skin and the insides as he pulled all the way down. The body, now headless, naked and emptied, would take a while to stop twitching.

The frogs tasted like chicken, but much, much better. The texture was finer and smoother, and the meat was much sweeter. Mind you that was compared to home-bred and truly organic, free-range chicken that ran around the kampong, not the farmed rubbish sold nowadays.

Have you heard about the zi char stall in Geylang that charges $78 for frog legs? (Click here for the story if you haven't.)

If I could have the frog legs I had when I was a child, I would gladly pay $78 or, what the hell, even $128. But I'm guessing the Geylang frogs are just regular stuff – in other words, intensively farmed and therefore pretty tasteless. I paid $6.90 for three at the supermarket yesterday and, trust me, they weren't worth one cent more. Don't be a sucker!

A belated happy Father's Day to all fathers, especially those who work hard to put frog legs on the table.

GONG BAO FROG LEGS (宫保田鸡) (Recipe for 4 persons) 1 tbsp light soya sauce ½ tsp salt 1 tsp Shaoxing wine 3 frogs (325 g), wash and chop each into 7 pieces 1½ tbsp vegetable oil 1 piece ginger, thumb size, peel, rinse and slice thinly 4 cloves garlic, peel, rinse and slice thinly 4 stalks spring onion, white part only, rinse and cut 2 cm long 15 dried chillies, cut 2 cm long, and discard seeds that fall out 2 tbsp Sichuan peppercorns cili padi (bird's eye chillies) to taste, 2-4 pieces, rinse and halve lengthwise 1 tbsp Shaoxing wine 1 tbsp Chinkiang vinegar (镇江醋), or any mild, black vinegar 1 tbsp sugar 2 tsp potato flour, mix with 2 tbsp water 1 tsp white sesame oil Rub light soya sauce, salt and wine into frogs. Leave to marinade for 30 minutes. Stir-fry ginger in hot oil over high heat till lightly brown. Add garlic and stir till colour changes. Add spring onions, dried chillies, Sichuan peppercorns and cili padi. Stir till fragrant, reducing heat if necessary so that dried chillies and peppercorns don't burn. Add frogs and stir till heated through. Add wine, vinegar, soya sauce and sugar. Stir till absorbed. Add enough water to cover half of meat, about ¼ cup. Continue stirring till legs are cooked, a few minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Add just enough potato flour and water mixture to thicken sauce. Turn off heat and stir through white sesame oil. Plate and serve immediately.

Sambal Timun

I like Mrs Wee Kim's sambal timun recipe in Cooking for the President. The magic of the Spicy Pork Cucumber Salad is in the dressing – isn't it always, with salads?

Opposites attract, so bland, tasteless timun (cucumber) and spicy, hot sambal (chilli paste) are the proverbial match made in Nyonya heaven. And when the matchmaker is Mrs Wee, you can be assured it's a particularly blissful match.

Besides the usual red chillies and belachan, the ex-First Lady also uses pounded kaffir lime leaves, thinly sliced bungah kantan (torch ginger bud) and julienned calamansi lime peel. That's a lot of intense flavours already but there's more.

There's a special touch in Mrs Wee's sambal timun: dried prawns which are dry-fried and then ground. The toasting gives the prawns a wonderful fragrance not found in other recipes that don't have this step. It also dries up the prawns which then soak up the calamansi lime juice, along with the delicious mix of flavours from belachan, chillies, lime leaves, lime peel and bungah kantan.

The dressing is looking good already but it's not done yet. Sliced shallots and blanched Chinese celery are tossed into the spicy paste, along with some salt and sugar. Mix, mix, mix . . . . Ok, now it's done. There're 12 ingredients in the Nyonya dressing, and each one plays a crucial role. It is, I tell ya, one awesome sambal that makes timun taste good. Who says cucumber is boring?

Sambal timun can be made without meat but if you have a carnivorous streak, Mrs Wee's recipe would make you very happy 'cause it has lots of soft, tender pork belly. Which, if you like, can be replaced with chicken and if you make it skinless, you'd have a tasty, fat-free salad. Hey, eat but don't forget about looking sexy in a see-through kebaya!

SAMBAL TIMUN (SPICY PORK CUCUMBER SALAD) Source: Adapted from Cooking for the President (Recipe for 8 persons) 300 g pork belly, cut 2 cm thick 500 g cucumber 30 g Chinese celery, cut 3 cm long, blanch in warm water and drain 50 g shallots, peel, rinse and slice thinly 45 g dried prawns, rinse, dry-fry or toast till semi-dry and grind till fine ½ cup calamansi lime juice (20-25 limes!), or 4 tbsp Chinese white vinegar 15 g calamansi peel (2 limes), rinse and julienne 2 bungah kantan (torch ginger buds), tender part only, rinse and slice thinly 40 g large red chillies (2 pieces), rinse red cili padi (bird's eye chillies) to taste, 6-10 pieces, rinse 2 kaffir lime leaves, medium size, rinse, tear and discard veins 15 g belachan (2 tbsp), toast till fragrant ½ tsp salt 2 tsp sugar Simmer pork belly in salted water till just tender, about 30 minutes. When cool enough to handle, cut crosswise 3 mm thick. Rinse and halve cucumber lengthwise. Deseed and cut diagonally 5 mm thick. Soak in water for 10 minutes. Drain. Prepare dried prawns, Chinese celery, lime juice, lime peel, shallots and bungah kantan as indicated above. Cut chillies and kaffir lime leaves into small pieces. Pound or grind with belachan into a fine paste. Place all ingredients in a big bowl. Mix thoroughly. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Refrigerate if not serving immediately.

Sambal Udang

It wasn't just any ordinary sambal udang. It was Sambal Udang made with a recipe from Cooking for the President.

Who was cooking for which president? That'd be Mrs Wee Kim Wee cooking for her husband, as told by their daughter, Wee Eng Hwa.

Sambal udang was the first recipe I tried from Cooking for the President – Reflections & Recipes of Mrs Wee Kim Wee.

How was the Wee family recipe for prawns smothered in chilli paste?

It was excellent!

The ingredients were simple, the instructions were clear and easy to follow, and the results were darn tasty. The simple dish was a winner, all in all, with the gloriously red prawns nicely balanced between spicy, sour, sweet and savory. It'd have been way too oily if I had followed the instructions to a T but that was a small fault, I think.

I could see Wee Eng Hwa's pride in her mother's Nyonya recipes from the care she took in writing the step-by-step instructions. But I wondered why she was proud of a president who was nothing more than a figurehead appointed by a single-party government.

In the book, Ms Wee talked about her father being asked to be the President of Singapore under the heading, 'THE PINNACLE BECKONS'. The pinnacle of what, exactly? She didn't say; perhaps because she couldn't? Could she name one significant thing that President Wee did for the country? Just one, any one! Here's what she said:

"OFFICIAL DUTIES Among their many official duties, one significant duty President Wee and the First Lady performed was to make State [sic] visits to countries to promote good bilateral relations. They made four state visits: Malaysia, Indonesia and China in 1991, and Brunei in 1992."

Eight years in office from 1985 till 1993, and there were four trips overseas?! And all four were 'crammed' into 1991-1992. Maybe someone noticed that the president hadn't been anywhere as his term was coming to an end and thought, 'Oh dear, that'll be really embarrassing!' So the head of state was packed off to somewhere nearby in a suddenly 'hectic' schedule.

What else did the President do? Well, he received Queen Elizabeth II in 1989 and President Bush Senior in 1992. These, together with his four junkets state visits, were all that was mentioned under 'OFFICIAL DUTIES'. It all added up to a grand total of three very short paragraphs that captured, I presume, the most remarkable highlights of President Wee's achievements and 'many' (!) official duties.

Wow . . . just . . . wow.

Would you be impressed by a résumé that lists four marketing trips and two client meetings as 'accomplishments' in an eight-year period? Good thing the president didn't have performance targets or annual appraisals, eh? Or maybe he did . . . ? Maybe he had a quota for the number of photos he had to pose for!

In reality, was the President of Singapore very different from, say, a vase or a social escort if he didn't have the pay, the perks, the pomp . . . . Ah yes, the pomp. Ms Wee spared no effort in telling readers about how Daddy was chauffeured in the 'Presidential Rolls-Royce with the gold crest and flag of the Presidential Standard'. And Daddy always started his day with a salute by the SAF provosts at the Istana.

It was obvious that Ms Wee, writing almost 20 years after Daddy's presidential term had ended, still puffed up her chest proudly as she recalled the pomp and pageantry. Never mind that Daddy had no power to speak of, and his 'job' didn't involve even a tinsy bit of intellect or intelligence. He had a kick-ass car and there were kiss-ass servants dressed up as soldiers to salute him, every f-ing morning for eight f-ing years. And Mummy had a lady-in-waiting, you know, just like the Queen of England.

Oh dear. *c-r-i-n-g-e* If you're not royalty, you don't actually have a lady-in-waiting. You have at best a personal assistant, secretary, butler, housekeeper or aide.

Daddy was at the pinnacle. Sadly, it was the pinnacle of vacuity.

Instead of Cooking for the President, I think Cooking for My Father would be a much better title for Ms Wee's book. Mind you Cooking for the Puppet would be more accurate, but I don't suppose the daughter would find it acceptable.

Related post:
Mrs Wee Kim Wee's Very Famous Mee Siam

SAMBAL UDANG (PRAWNS IN CHILLI PASTE) Source: Cooking for The President, Wee Eng Hwa (Recipe for 8 persons) 25 g dried chillies, soak in water till soft, about 1 hour, and squeeze dry 40 g red chillies, discard seeds and rinse 160 g shallots, peel and rinse 20 g buah keras (candlenuts) 180 ml vegetable oil (I used only 80 ml, which was plenty) 2/3 tsp belachan, toast till fragrant, and grind finely 1 tbsp sugar 2 tsp salt 35 g tamarind paste, soak in 1 cup (240 ml) water, knead and discard seeds and pulp 30 prawns weighing 1 kg, trim legs and feelers, devein, rinse and drain 1 cup cucumber or winged bean slices Cut dried chillies, red chillies, shallots and buah keras into small pieces. Pound or grind till smooth. Fry in vegetable oil over medium-low to low heat till medium brown. Add belachan and stir through. Add sugar, salt and tamarind water. Simmer till thick and oil separates. Add prawns and heat till just cooked, stirring and turning as necessary to cook evenly. Prawns of the size indicated above are cooked once they turn red. (For bigger prawns, give 'em a few more seconds; add a bit of water if the sauce thickens too much.) Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Serve at room temperature with cucumber or winged beans on the side.