Braised Chicken with Chestnuts

My mother always used dried chestnuts, so I'm clueless about prepping fresh ones. Using my common sense, I figure boiling should be the right method for tackling fresh chestnuts' shell and peel. It seems like the obvious thing to do, right?

Boiling 5 minutes or so works for the outer shell, which softens and becomes easy to cut through and tear off. The fuzzy membrane underneath, however, is a different story. It's stubborn as hell! It sticks resolutely to the nutmeat, so I continue boiling . . . and then boil some more . . . . I try peeling off the reddish skin whilst the nuts are hot; I try again when they're cold. Nothing works. As I fiddle in vain, the pot of chestnuts is bubbling away merrily on the stove. Eventually, after 30 minutes, I have to turn off the heat. Why? Because the chestnuts are cooked!

If boiling doesn't work, what about roasting? Roasted chestnuts are quite easy to peel, right? I buy more chestnuts, cut a slit in each one, and chuck the lot in a hot oven. I then wait for the outer shell and inner pellicle to curl and pull back, revealing delicious naked meat underneath. Or rather, that's how it is with chestnuts that are sold roasted. The ones I roast in the oven are hellbent on defying my efforts. The fuzzy skin sticks to the nutmeat as steadfastly as ever.

*google . . . google . . . .*

How do other people peel chestnuts? By boiling or roasting, they say. Some websites leave it at that; the more honest ones add that the peeling is a pain in the butt. A professional chef, in a video called How to Cook The Perfect Chestnuts, takes five minutes to peel ONE chestnut. If his livelihood depends on how many chestnuts he peels in a day, he'll surely starve to death!

People who cook are clueless but surely chestnut FARMERS should be more helpful? Steve and Patty over at Chestnuts USA, a chestnut farm in Washington, say I should make a cross in the nuts, and then roast or boil them. Well, I've already tried cutting a slit in the shell. Can chestnuts tell the difference between '—' and 'X'? Probably not, but I've tried only the roasting method with the shell cut. Oh well, might as well try the boiling method also, just to be sure. I cut an 'X' in some chestnuts, then pop them in a pot of boiling water. After 30 minutes, I realize farmers are just as bad as cooks.

How about shocking boiled chestnuts in ice water? That works for tomatoes, so it may work for chestnuts too? Nope, it doesn't.
Ok, how about leaving the chestnuts in the fridge for a few days, before boiling them, so that the fuzzy skin dries out? Makes no difference; boiling doesn't work, period.

How many packs of chestnuts have I thrown away? Grrrrr . . . . Maybe the chestnuts other people have are American or Italian but the ones I have are, I presume, from China? Maybe Chinese chestnuts, for whatever reason, just can't be peeled?

*wave white flag*

One day, one of the blogs I follow has a new post. 輕鬆的幫栗子脫衣服, the title says. Hmm, 'undressing' chestnuts easily, eh? I'm skeptical because that's what the others say too (minus the erotic connotation), but I take a look anyway. 小米桶 uses a very quick method: just soak shelled chestnuts in boiling water for 60 seconds. Yup, not 10, 15 or 20 minutes but just 1 minute. And it's soaking, not boiling. After the brief soak, remove 3-4 nuts at a time from the hot water, and rub off the peel with a piece of cloth. That is ALL there is to it?!

Is it really as easy and as quick as 小米桶 says it is? I've tried her method and, yes, it is. The technique works like a charm because the peel expands after it's soaked in boiling water but the nutmeat underneath doesn't. This allows the peel to be rubbed off easily. It's so obvious once she explains it!

Why doesn't boiling work? Because the strong heat causes both the peel and meat to expand at the same time. When that happens, the only way to separate the two parts is by surgery with a kitchen knife.

Living where I live – which is south of West Malaysia, west of East Malaysia and east of West Sumatra – I can buy fresh chestnuts already shelled. And now, with just a towel and some boiling water, I can remove the pesky pellicle in a couple of minutes. With the right technique, it's drop-dead easy. Never stop learning, my mother always said.

As a reward for my Herculean research efforts, I'm giving myself an extra helping of full monty nuts (!) braised with chicken, mushrooms and oyster sauce.

28 March 2012 Update

If chestnuts are still in their shell, cut them in half, then parboil 90 seconds before peeling as show in this video:



Badgersett Farms' method seems to work, and it's quick, easy and safe. I'll try it next time I cook chestnuts.

BRAISED CHESTNUT CHICKEN (栗子焖鸡) (Recipe for 4 persons) 4 medium size Chinese dried mushrooms 300 g kampong (organic) chicken Marinade 1 tbsp Shaoxing wine 50 g good quality oyster sauce* (2 tbsp rounded) (I use LKK premium grade) 1 tsp fermented soya beans, mashed 1 tsp sugar 16 chestnuts, shelled 2 tsp white sesame oil, or vegetable oil 4 cloves garlic, peeled and halved 10 g ginger (half thumb size), sliced thinly 40 g mild leek (from Malaysia), or 20 g if very garlicky (from China) halved lengthwise and cut crosswise 7-8 cm (3 inches) long 10 g spring onions, cut 7-8 cm (3 inches) long 1 tbsp Shaoxing wine 10 g coriander, cut 7-8 cm (3 inches) long 1 bird's eye chilli, halved lengthwise * Standard oyster sauce is a bit fishy. If that's what you have, then I suggest you use only 1 rounded tbsp in the marinade; increase mashed fermented soya beans to 2 tsp, and sugar to 1 tbsp; add 1 tsp light soya sauce, and ¼ tsp salt. Rinse mushrooms and snip off stems with scissors. Soak, including stems, in 1¼ cup warm water. Cook stems with chestnuts, as detailed below. When ready to stir-fry, squeeze dry mushroom caps, reserving liquid. Cut each piece into 2. Rinse chicken and chop bite size. Mix with marinade and set aside. Add boiling water to chestnuts, enough to cover by 2-3 cm (1 inch). Steep 1 minute. Remove 3-4 chestnuts at a time; place between clean towel or 2 paper towels; rub to remove peel; soak in water to prevent discolouring. Cut each chestnut into 2 pieces, trimming parts that are bad. Rinse thoroughly. Place in a small pot. Add mushroom stems (which are still hard), and enough water to cover by 2-3 cm (1 inch). Bring to a boil. Simmer gently for 30 minutes. Chestnuts should now be cooked but not yet soft. In a very hot wok, heat oil till just smoking. Add sliced ginger and stir-fry over high heat till lightly golden. Add garlic, mushrooms, leek and white part of spring onions. Stir-fry till garlic and mushrooms are lightly golden. Add chicken, minus marinade. Stir-fry till heated through and wok is screaming hot. Drizzle with 1 tbsp Shaoxing wine. Continue stirring. When wok is very hot again, drizzle with marinade. Stir-fry till absorbed. Add mushroom water. Stir to deglaze wok. Add chestnuts plus liquid. Top up with water to almost cover everything in the wok. Tuck green part of green onions, coriander and chilli around wok. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer gently till chicken and chestnuts are tender. This should take about 30 minutes, stirring once midway. Sauce should now be just thick enough to stick to chicken. If too watery, increase heat to high and reduce sauce. If too thick, drizzle with 1-2 tbsp water, then stir and heat through. Discard mushroom stems if you can find them! Taste and adjust seasoning. Chestnuts should be slightly sweet. Add a bit more sugar if necessary. Turn off heat. Cover and wait 5-10 minutes. This allows flavours to develop and the meat to absorb some liquid. Plate and serve with steamed rice.

Jamie Oliver Cooks Hainanese Chicken Rice!

This is how the Naked Chef makes Singapore's iconic dish, Hainanese Chicken Rice:

The recipe is from Jamie Oliver's column in the Daily Mail, 2 March 2012. The headline reads, 'Cook with Jamie: East is best! These Far Eastern broths are (blah blah blah) good for you'.

Hmm, broths? I have no idea why chicken rice is in an article about broths but I'm sure the recipe is, as Jamie Oliver says, good for you. It has to be with 305 g of ginger! If you're suffering from excessive wind, the humongous amount of spicy ginger will cure you in a jiffy. (Not that I'm speaking from personal experience, of course; I'm just telling you what my mother told me.) Or maybe you just gave birth and your mother, if she's Chinese, has told you to eat truckloads of ginger – every day, every single meal, for a whole month. What could be better than ginger rice with ginger chicken, ginger soup and ginger sauce?

You'll love the Naked Chef's Hainanese Chicken Rice because . . . . Oh hang on, it's not rice. You don't get rice when you cook 450 g with 2 litres of chicken stock, as specified in the ingredient list. Or is it 1.2 litres as per the instructions? Whichever it is, you'll have a pot of porridge, not rice. Maybe Mr Oliver thinks porridge is more in keeping with the broth theme?

There may not be any rice in JO's chicken rice but at least there's chicken. Here's how the celebrity chef poaches it: boil 4 chicken breasts for 5 minutes in 4 litres of water flavoured with ginger, garlic, shallots and lemongrass; turn off the heat; let the chicken steep 40 minutes; then place the chicken in ice water for 30 minutes. If you follow his method, I promise you'll have chicken that's way overcooked and dry as dust. But at least it IS chicken. It'd a disaster if there's neither chicken nor rice in chicken rice, wouldn't it?

Instead of a thick mound of grated ginger, Mr Oliver's ginger sauce is ginger JUICE, diluted with a lot of chicken stock. This watery thing, he says, has 'a flavour wallop'. Well, I guess folks in Singapore prefer a flavour nuclear bomb!

I can see that the Brits may prefer to be walloped rather than bombed but why is there GARLIC JUICE in the chickeny ginger juice? Perhaps because there isn't any garlic chilli sauce although there is chilli sauce, of unspecified nature. I suspect Mr Oliver has no idea how important the garlicky chilli sauce is. If you ask a Singaporean 'How's the chicken rice?', he'll probably say 'Walau, de chilli sauce damn shiok ah!' (which means the chilli sauce is pucker). A chicken rice recipe that doesn't say how the garlic chilli sauce is made would be useless in the motherland of chicken rice.

Singapore's iconic dish wouldn't be complete without thick, dark soya sauce. But the recipe doesn't specify what type of soya sauce it should be, so people who aren't familiar with Hainanese chicken rice may use light soya sauce instead. In fact, the sauce in the photo looks brown, not black, so it is light soya sauce. Fail!

Finally, we come to the soup. There's a lot of it, and it's tasteless because there's way too much water used to cook the chicken. 2 litres would have been ample, not 4 litres. You notice there's a lot of water/stock in everything, from the broth to the rice and ginger sauce? Fortunately, the soup doesn't make or break the chicken rice. It's as incidental as the slices of cucumber that sit beside the chicken, and that's why it's odd to put chicken rice in an article about broths. Hmm, I think Jamie Oliver seriously needs a better ghostwriter.

I have only two words for the soggy gingery porridge and dry gingery chicken served with watery ginger juice, light soya sauce and god-knows-what chilli sauce: NOT PUCKER! It's good for a laugh though. I think the watered and dumbed down ginger juice is especially funny!

How to Make GOOD Fried Rice

When I was nine years old, I went to primary school in the afternoon. I was the only person at home at lunchtime, so I cooked for myself and ate before heading off to school. Fried rice was what I rustled up most often, plus an egg flower soup to wash it down.

Hmm, now that I think about it, a nine-year-old doing a two-course lunch wasn't too shabby. *immodestly and belatedly pat self on the back*

As I got older, I made fried rice only as a last resort, when I didn't have ingredients for something else or when I had leftover rice to finish up. Why? Because, try as I might, my fried rice wasn't terribly impressive even though I'd been frying rice since I was nine. Eminently edible, yes, but nothing more.

One day, I had some extremely good fried rice at Imperial Treasure, a Chinese restaurant at Marina Square. It was so good that I was inspired to work on my version. I used overnight rice; got the wok as hot as possible; didn't stinge on the oil; minced lots of garlic; threw in salted fish, prawns and even crabmeat; tried various ways of adding eggs; compared light soya sauce vs oyster sauce vs fish sauce vs salt, singly and in various combinations; spiked the rice with bird's eye chilli, then dried chilli flakes . . . . It all came to nought. I made many attempts but my fried rice sadly remained as blah as ever. I concluded that a home cook, without the powerful stove, cast iron wok and years of training of a professional chef, simply couldn't make outstanding fried rice.

My interest in fried rice lay dead and buried until last year when I came across the Nyonya way of frying rice with belachan, prawns, cucumber, and finely pounded dried prawns, dried chillies, fresh chillies, shallots, garlic and candlenuts. The first time I made Nyonya fried rice with a recipe from Cooking for the President, I was like, 'WOW! I made that?!' I couldn't believe I'd made such a delicious fried rice. Every grain of rice was fragrant and chewy, absolutely nothing like my Chinese fried rice. It was PHENOMENAL!

I made the Nyonya fried rice several times and had it cold once, which made me go 'Omm . . . mmppfff . . . gaaahh!' (That's OMG with my mouth full.) It was even nicer cold than hot. How is it possible?!

Another time, I added two eggs to the fried rice. Everything was the same as before except for those two eggs. Result: the fried rice was ruined. It wasn't fragrant and the chewy texture was lost. It was like my blah Chinese fried rice! Why do the eggs make the fried rice go from extraordinary to ordinary? I started thinking about why the Nyonya fried rice was so delicious, why adding eggs totally ruined it, why it was more delicious when it was cold, and how I could improve my Chinese fried rice.

The most common tip for making fried rice is: use day-old rice because it's fluffy and no longer sticky. Unfortunately, fluffy rice alone doesn't make good fried rice. The chewiness of the rice is equally important, and that doesn't change much once the rice is cooked.

How do you cook rice that's chewy and 'Q'? By steaming instead of boiling/simmering.

When rice is cooked in boiling water, the cell walls break down, allowing the starch inside to leak out, absorb too much water and turn soft. The change in texture is irreversible, so the rice isn't chewy even if you let it rest overnight. Hence, rice cooked by boiling, in a rice cooker or on the stove, is destined to make fried rice that's at best mediocre even if it's day-old rice.

In contrast, rice that's steamed has no direct contact with boiling water. Cooked at a lower temperature, the cell walls don't break down much, so very little starch escapes. Hence, all the grains are chewy and they don't stick together. The overnight rest, a must for boiled rice, isn't necessary for steamed rice. This fried rice, made with 15-minute-old steamed rice, is as fluffy as can be:

Temperature isn't the only important factor. The amount of water absorbed by the rice is equally crucial. If there's too much water, the rice loses its chewiness even if it's steamed. How much is too much? It depends on the type of starch found in the rice.

There're two types of rice starch: amylopectin and amylose. The latter makes rice fluffy and not sticky because it's insoluble. Basmati rice, for instance, is very fluffy because it has a high percentage of amylose. Amylopectin, on the other hand, makes rice chewy by absorbing water to form a gel. Glutinous rice is extremely chewy because it contains mostly amylopectin.

You might have come across the tip that aged, old rice is necessary for making good fried rice because it has more amylose than newly harvested rice. The tip isn't entirely correct. Rice that's too old has too much amylose and not enough amylopectin to make it chewy. It's fluffy alright but it's not 'Q', and the texture gets worse when the rice cools down because amylose hardens when it's cold. New rice, on the other hand, runs a risk of turning mushy because it has a lot of amylopectin, which becomes soft if it absorbs too much water.

The best rice – that's easy to work with, fluffy, chewy, and doesn't harden when it's cold – should have a good balance of the two types of starch. I'd call it middle-aged. (Click here to learn more about old vs new rice from Harold McGee.)

Are you still with me? And do you see why it's too simplistic to say that day-old rice is the key to good fried rice?

So, the rice is steamed to fluffy and chewy perfection, and half the battle is won. Ready to stir and fry?

To win the second half of the battle without wok hei – the smoky, charred aroma created with a professional-grade stove – ingredients are the home cook's only weaponry. Forget about mincing a few cloves of garlic. You need a heap of ingredients – an atomic bomb, in other words, not a few hand grenades – or the rice would be tasteless. But not too much either or the rice would be overwhelmed. (You want to bomb a city, not destroy the entire planet.)

The mix of ingredients must be chosen carefully so that the rice is infused with both fragrance and umaminess. Shallots, dried prawns and salted fish make a great combination. The Chinese would mince these ingredients finely but I think the Nyonya method is far superior. Pounding with a mortar and pestle achieves a very fine grind which a knife can't possibly create. Imagine each and every grain of rice coated with countless specks of shallots, dried prawns and salted fish which have been fried till brown and fragrant. The aroma and umaminess pop in your mouth even before you start chewing.

Adding chunks of meat or seafood to fried rice would be to miss the point completely. It's fried rice, not stir-fried chicken or whatever. A modest amount, cut pea-sized or flaked if it's crab, adds variety but doesn't overwhelm. Each little piece is eaten with some rice in one mouthful, which wouldn't be possible if it's cut too big.

Most people expect eggs in Chinese fried rice so into the wok they go, fried rather than raw so that the rice doesn't sit in liquid eggs and lose its chewiness. Don't forget that eggs would absorb some aroma and umaminess, so there must be sufficient dried prawns, salted fish and shallots – or whatever you fancy – to flavour not just the rice but also the eggs.

Lastly, salt and ground white pepper to taste, and lots of spring onion or maybe iceberg lettuce, and the job's done. This is a rollicking good fried rice which would score, I think, 7-8 out of 10. If there were good wok hei, it would be a perfect 10 – fried rice fit for the gods.

What you put in your fried rice is a personal choice but, please, no char siu no matter what. Cutting char siu into little bits and then stir-frying it is tantamount to abuse. The poor char siu becomes dry and tasteless, and all the work done roasting the pork is undone. Good char siu should be treated with respect and appreciated as it is. Bad char siu should be given to your dog after washing it (char siu, not dog) in lots of hot water.

But restaurants serve char siu fried rice, you might say. Yes, they do. But that's because they have dry, overnight char siu to get rid of. They can't sell stale char siu as char siu, so they chuck it in fried rice (and noodles). Some people eat char siu fried rice in restaurants, and then they think they should put char siu in their homemade fried rice. *sigh, shake head, roll eyes, all at the same time*

Let's see, have I forgotten anything? Oh yes, why is Nyonya fried rice nice even when it's cold? Because it has lots of dried prawns which become more umami after cooling down. Other seafood such as crab and fresh prawns would also have the same effect. More importantly, the fried rice doesn't harden when it's cold but that's due to the type of rice chosen rather than the Nyonya recipe.

I've made major improvements to my fried rice in the past few months. It's not too shabby now even though I can't toss rice like the fellow in the video (0:55-1:05). Fried rice isn't my culinary last resort anymore, and I enjoy eating it. About time too 'cause I've been frying rice since I was nine.

DRIED PRAWN, SALTED FISH & CHICKEN FRIED RICE (虾米咸鱼鸡丁炒饭) (Recipe for 4 persons) 360 g long grain Jasmine white rice (I use Songhe brand) wash and drain thoroughly; place in 18-cm round cake tin; add 320 ml water (weight of rice plus water is 720 g); let rice soak 10 minutes 50 g dried prawns 50 g salted ikan kurau (threadfin), bones and scales removed if any 100 g shallots, peel 5½ tbsp vegetable oil 2 eggs (use 1 tsp to marinate chicken) beat with 2 tbsp milk, big dash of ground white pepper, and 1 tsp each of light soya sauce, white sesame oil and Shaoxing wine 200 g deboned chicken thigh or drumstick wash, drain and dice 1½ cm; marinate with dash of ground white pepper, and 1 tsp each of light soya sauce, Shaoxing wine, egg and white sesame oil for 15 minutes or longer salt to taste, about ¼ tsp ground white pepper to taste, about ½ tsp 60 g spring onions trim and wash; dice to yield 1 cup (sounds like a lot!) Steam rice over rapidly boiling water for 15 minutes, then check whether rice needs more water. If surface layer is cooked but a bit hard, rice is ideal. Steam another 5 minutes – surface layer should now be soft but chewy – then remove rice from steamer. If surface layer is not cooked, sprinkle with 1-2 tbsp water and continue steaming for another 5 minutes. Repeat if necessary, till rice is just soft. Remove rice from steamer. If surface layer is cooked and soft, remove rice immediately (and use less water next time you steam rice). After rice is cooked, fluff and set aside to firm up, about 20 minutes. Cover if not frying immediately. If the rice is fried just after steaming, it's still fluffy and 'Q' but the soft grains would break into small pieces when stirred. You may skip the cooldown when hunger is more important than presentation, or if you can toss rice like a pro. Whilst rice is cooking, rinse dried prawns, salted fish and shallots. Cut into small pieces, then blitz in mini chopper or pound till very fine. If pounding, start with salted fish, then dried prawns and finally shallots. In a well-seasoned wok, make a thin omelette with eggs using ½ tbsp vegetable oil. When omelette is almost done, chop into small pieces with spatula. Transfer to a plate and set aside. In the same wok, heat remaining 5 tbsp vegetable oil till almost smoking. Add salted fish, dried prawns and shallots. Fry over medium heat till brown and fragrant. Increase heat to high. Add chicken and stir through. Add rice and eggs. Stir-fry till chicken is just cooked. Taste and add salt if necessary. Stir through. Turn off heat. Sprinkle with ground white pepper and spring onions. Stir through. Plate and serve.