Portuguese Egg Tarts (葡式蛋挞)

Your egg tarts look more like curry puffs! That's what one reader says about Rasa Malaysia's Portuguese egg tarts.

Indeed, her tarts don't have any of the signature black burn marks. To me, what's supposed to be the custard looks more like an omelette . . . or maybe quiche filling.

Do you know what's wrong with Rasa Malaysia's recipe?

It's the shortcrust pastry she uses. Hong Kong egg tarts may be made with either shortcrust or puff pastry but their Portuguese cousins are always made with puff pastry. Why? Because, to get the hallmark splodges on the custard, the tarts have to be baked at a very high temperature. How high? About 250°C, which would have shortcrust pastry incinerated. That's why Rasa Malaysia bakes her tarts at 200°C. At that temperature, the shortcrust pastry doesn't burn but then neither does the custard even when it's overcooked (you can tell from the leathery, crumpled top).

If someone said to me that thing in her photo is a Portuguese egg tart, I would say, "On which planet?" Krypton maybe?

If you replace the shortcrust pastry in Rasa Malaysia's recipe with puff pastry and increase the oven temperature, would the egg tarts turn out ok?

Nope, because her custard filling doesn't have enough milk. You know how milk forms a skin when heated? The custard has to form the same skin and it's that skin that's burnt, not sugar or custard. What is that skin? It's a film of the milk proteins, whey and casein, which is formed when milk is heated. Too little milk means too little protein; too little protein means no skin; no skin means no burn marks even at 250°C, at least not before the pastry's burnt.

A lot of people think PETs' burnt splodges are bits of caramelized sugar. But sugar, or rather sucrose, turns black only when it hits at least 210°C. At that temperature, the pastry would turn black too. Milk proteins, OTOH, brown at a much lower temperature. That's why it's burnt when the pastry and sugar aren't.

Besides a layer of burnt protein, there's something else lurking atop the custard. You notice how shiny the custard is on top? The shine is because of melted sugar, not protein because protein isn't shiny. Some of the sugar separates from the custard mixture when it's heated at 250°C. It then bubbles up to the top, giving the tart its shiny look.

Separated sugar's a good thing except not all of it finds its way up if there's a lot. Some of it may sink to the bottom of the tart and turn the pastry soggy. How do you tackle this problem? By controlling the amount of sugar that separates from the custard mixture. How do you do that? By keeping the oven temperature low if you were baking Hong Kong egg tarts. For Portuguese egg tarts which must be baked at a high temperature, you do it with cornflour. The flour stabilizes the custard and, hence, reduces the amount of sugar separated.

To activate the binding quality of cornflour, it has to be added to the custard and then heated on the stove till the whole mixture reaches the right consistency. If it's too thick, it'll turn into scrambled eggs when it's baked. If it's too thin, it'll allow too much sugar to separate, turning the pastry soggy.

Unless you're making your own pastry, the only tricky step in making Portuguese egg tarts is when you cook the custard on the stove. Remember the thickening is a one-way street. If you overshoot, there's no turning back. Adding milk to thin it down doesn't work. Once the consistency looks right, you should put the pot in a water-bath to cool down quickly.

If you look at online photos of PETs, you'll see that a lot of store-bought tarts have a sunken top. Even Lord Stow's, the gold standard, are picture perfect only some of the time, i.e. when there's a press review!

How do you stop the custard from sinking as it cools down so that the top stays level?

Again by stabilizing it with cornflour. You see how important the cornflour is but it's missing from Rasa Malaysia's recipe?

And what's with her three drops of vanilla extract for 10 tarts? Three drops? Would these be three American plus-sized drops?

If you use readymade pastry shells, making Portuguese egg tarts is a cinch . . . . Well, it is provided you're not using a crap recipe like Rasa Malaysia's. Here's my video to show you how to make Portuguese egg tarts that look like Portuguese egg tarts rather than curry puffs or mini quiches:

MACAU STYLE PORTUGUESE EGG TARTS (葡式蛋挞) (Recipe for 9 tarts) 60 g dairy cream, 35% fat 60 g sugar 2 egg yolks, 30 g 1 tbsp cornflour 260 g full-fat fresh milk ½ tsp vanilla extract 9 frozen puff pastry shells, each measuring 7 x 3 cm (top D x H) To make custard filling, whisk cream, sugar, yolks, milk and cornflour till smooth. Stir over medium-low heat till thick enough to coat pot thinly (or metal spoon if using non-stick pot). Place pot in water-bath. Add vanilla extract. Stir till mixture is half-cool. Leave to cool completely. Preheat oven to 250°C. Line baking tray with aluminium foil, shiny side up. When oven is ready, remove pastry shells from freezer. Place slightly apart on baking tray. Fill shells with custard to 5 mm from edge. Bake till crust is brown, and custard is burnt and just stops bubbling. This takes about 30-35 minutes. You should check every 10 minutes and rotate tray as necessary so that all tarts brown evenly. Remove tarts from oven to wire rack. Leave till cool. Serve within a few hours whilst pastry is crisp. Leftovers should be unmoulded before pastry softens, then refrigerated uncovered (make sure there isn't any funky odour in your fridge). Reheat tarts on foil lined baking tray at 200°C. Pastry would turn soggy after 5 minutes, then crisp up nicely after another 5 minutes or so. Custard would be creamy and smooth but a bit sunken.

Hong Kong Egg Tarts (港式蛋挞)

The best tool for flattening pastry dough isn't a rolling pin but a plate. Just place a round blob of dough between two plastic sheets, then press it evenly with a flat-bottomed plate. Peel off the top sheet of plastic, then flip the dough into a tart mould.

Ease the dough into the mould, from the centre to the edges so that there're no air pockets. Trim the excess around the rim, and you're done. That's all there is to it. With this method, even a novice can quickly make pastry shells that are nicely thin and even. It is, for me, much faster and easier than how professional bakers do it. They just press a lump of dough into the mould without flattening it first.

Sieving the custard is necessary only when you plan to use it within a couple of hours. If you have time to let it rest half a day or longer, you can skip this step. Refrigerated, the egg and milk mixture may be stored for maybe one week.

A vanilla pod is good for flavouring the filling. Failing that, a high quality vanilla extract makes a reasonable stand-in. If vanilla is too vanilla for you, how about dark rum, brandy, kahlua or Bailey's? Hey, nutmeg is nice if you like nutmeg. Ginger juice would be appropriate if you're feeling windy.

On no account prick the tart shells to stop them from puffing up in the oven. If you do, they'll leak. Instead, prebake the pastry at a low temperature of 150°C and, if there isn't any air trapped underneath the dough, it should stay nicely flat even without pie weights. If you like, the tart shells may be chilled or frozen either before or after prebaking.

I like my egg tarts shiny, not matte. The shine comes from the slightly undercooked custard on top, which is done by giving the tarts less heat from the top than the bottom. And the heat has to be quite gentle, overall, so that the eggs and milk cook into a soft and silky smooth custard.

If photos and words are too abstract for you and you don't get the picture, here's my video to help you connect the dots:

HONG KONG EGG TARTS (港式蛋挞) Source: adapted from Aunty Yochana (Recipe for 20 tarts) Custard Filling 240 g eggs 160 g sugar   480 ml milk 1¼ tsp vanilla extract Tart Shells 125 g salted butter, softened 60 g icing sugar, sifted 15 g egg white 15 g egg yolk 1 tsp vanilla extract 210 g plain flour To make tart filling, whisk sugar with eggs till melted. Add milk and vanilla extract. Whisk till evenly mixed. Sieve to remove big bubbles, into something that can pour without dripping. Set aside till small bubbles subside, about 1¼ hours. To make tart dough, mix butter and icing sugar till smooth. Add egg white, yolk and vanilla extract. Mix till well combined. If dough is sticky, sprinkle with flour 1 tsp at a time and mix through. If dough is dry and crumbly, sprinkle with water instead 1 tsp at a time. Place dough in freezer till just firm, spread out to cool down faster. This should take 10 minutes or so. When lining tart moulds, remove dough from freezer ¼ portion at a time. To line tart moulds, smooth 2 plastic sheets so that there are no folds. Roll 30 g dough into a ball. Place ball between plastic sheets. Press evenly with flat-bottomed plate to form a circle 2 mm thick and 10 cm wide, checking thickness and evenness by touching dough with palm. Remove top plastic sheet. Place 8 x 2.5 cm tart mould on dough, rim side down. Flip mould, along with dough and remaining plastic sheet, to face upward. Press dough into mould, from centre to rim. Remove plastic sheet. Trim excess dough around edges. Run fingers round tart mould, gently pressing to even out thickness and remove air pockets if necessary. Trim again if there's excess dough. To bake tart shells, preheat oven to 150°C. Place shells on baking tray. Bake 15 minutes in middle of oven. Increase temperature to 180°C. Continue baking till slightly brown, another 5 minutes or so. Remove from oven. Leave on wire rack to cool down completely. To bake tarts, preheat oven to 165°C. If you want to line your baking tray with foil, it should be shiny side down. Pour custard into shells, to 2 mm from rim. Bake 15 minutes in bottom of oven. Reduce temperature to 150°C. Move tray to middle of oven. Top up filling to make up for evaporation. Bake till custard is just slightly wobbly in the middle when shaken, another 15 minutes or so. If custard puffs up during last few minutes but is still too watery in the middle, remove tarts from oven to cool down till custard subsides, then continue baking. Watch custard closely towards the end to make sure it doesn't overcook. Serve hot, or at least warm. Leftovers should be refrigerated. Tarts may be reheated at 120°C using bottom heat only for 10 minutes or so. Pastry isn't soggy at all if reheated without moulds.

10-Minute Kaya (II)

To enjoy a kaya toast brekky at home:

1. Make kaya in 10 minutes using the recipe here, up to one week ahead. On no account make kaya the traditional way which involves a double-boiler and stirring for hours on end. If you have a lot of free time, I suggest you bathe your dog, read a book, or take a nap.

2. The night before the kaya toast breakfast, remove eggs from the fridge to let them come to room temperature.

3. 15 minutes before serving, put the kettle on.

4. Pour some boiling water into a pot, enough to fill about 4 cm. Using a spoon or ladle, put the eggs in the pot. Add more boiling water as necessary so that the eggs are just submerged. Cover the pot and set the timer for 10 minutes for 55 g eggs. For bigger eggs, increase the time by 1 minute, and vice versa. If the pot is crowded, increase by another 1 minute, and vice versa.

5. Pour some boiling water into serving bowls. Half-boiled eggs should be served in warm bowls, don't you think?

6. Make the drink of choice, which is kopi gau xiu dai for me.

7. Set the table – kaya, butter, dark soya sauce, ground white pepper, knives, spoons, plates, etc. Or maybe you'll be setting the tray for a lucky someone who's getting breakfast in bed?

8. After the eggs have been steeping for 5 minutes, toast the bread.

9. When the timer goes off, drain the bowls and eggs.

10. Tuck in whilst the toast and eggs are hot. Break 1-2 eggs into a warm bowl, using a spoon to dig out the residual egg white in the shell. Season with dark soya sauce and ground white pepper to taste. Spread a piece of toast with kaya, then top with sliced cold butter. I like my kaya roti thick-sliced and open-faced; most people do thin-sliced and closed, I think. Stir the egg(s) slightly and dunk the toast. Enjoy!



Click here for the recipe.

Kuih Seri Muka/Kueh Salat (I)

The custard layer of my kueh salat (aka kuih seri muka) is a pale avocado green. That's because it's made with (a lot of) pandan leaves. Do you know how the bibiks of yesteryears get a brighter green, naturally? They used dark green leaves called daun pandan serani/suji, which look like pandan leaves but are smaller and darker.

Somewhere along the way, pandan serani got edited out of most recipes and was replaced with artificial green food colouring. It's so rarely mentioned nowadays that a lot of modern cooks don't even know about these leaves.

Some cooks then edit out artificial green food colouring in their recipes, but not in the kueh or cake they make for their photos. Yup, they cheat (shock! horror!). Prime example: Rasa Malaysia's kueh dadar, which you can see here. There's absolutely no way she can get that radioactive shade of green with five precious pandan leaves for 300 ml of coconut milk and 120 g of flour.

Indeed, one of Rasa Malaysia's readers asks why he can't get the green colour in her photos although he follows her instructions. You should have used fresh leaves, she says. *snort; roll eyes* Never mind five. If she can get the radioactive green with 50 FRESH pandan leaves, I'll go scrub her kitchen floor for free. In fact, if she can get even a tiny hint of green of whatever shade with just five pandan leaves, I'll kneel and scrub away.

Isn't it sad that a lot of people have never heard of pandan serani, much less use it? And they wonder why their pandan chiffon cake, ondeh-ondeh, kueh dadar or kueh salat isn't bright green even though they've squeezed – and squeezed, and squeezed some more – the four, five or even 10 pandan leaves as instructed.

Which brings me to the splotches of blue, made with blue pea flowers, in the rice layer of the kueh salat. It's another thing that's been edited out of most recipes because, you know, we are all 'time-poor'. But if we keep changing recipes, for no reason other than to save time, adopt the latest food fad, or dumb-down for the benefit of those living in foreign land, mistakes sometimes creep in and we don't even realize it. Isn't it nice to make something the way it used to be made? At least once in a while so that we don't become too 'food-culture-poor'?
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20 August 2012 Update

KUEH SALAT (COCONUT CUSTARD ON GLUTINOUS RICE CAKE) Source: Modified from Cooking for the President (Recipe for 16 pieces) Rice layer 5 young pandan leaves, rinsed 250 g glutinous rice wash and drain in a sieve 125 ml water 1/2 tsp salt 125 ml freshly squeezed coconut milk, undiluted 50 bunga telang (blue pea flowers) pound finely and strain; discard pulp Custard layer 5 eggs stir thoroughly and sieve 100 g young pandan leaves wash and cut ½ cm long; blend with coconut milk; strain to yield 150 ml; add flour, salt, sugar and water to coconut milk; discard pandan pulp 150 ml undiluted fresh coconut milk 2 tbsp plain flour 1/8 tsp salt 115 g sugar 90 ml water To make rice layer, line bottom of 18 x 18 x 5 cm cake pan with parchment paper, leaving some overhang. Spread half of rice in pan evenly. Top with pandan leaves, then remaining rice. Add water and sprinkle with salt. Steam 10 minutes over rapidly boiling water. Drizzle with coconut milk. Mix thoroughly. Steam 20 minutes. Discard pandan leaves. Drizzle with bunga telang juice, unevenly. Steam 5 more minutes. Check that rice is cooked. If it isn't, drizzle with 1 tbsp water and steam a few minutes. Toss to mix the colours slightly. Press into an even, compact layer with a wet spatula or spoon. Cover and steam another 5 minutes. Proceed to steam custard as detailed below. If custard isn't ready yet, reduce heat to lowest possible and continue steaming. Rice must be hot and moist when custard is added or the 2 layers won't stick together. To make custard layer, cook coconut milk mixture over medium heat till gently simmering, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Remove from heat. Pour half slowly into eggs, stirring to mix eggs and coconut milk evenly. Next, add eggs to remaining coconut milk. Cook combined mixture over low heat, scraping bottom and sides of pot to prevent lumps, till slightly thickened. When rice is cooked, pour custard onto rice. Reduce heat to lowest possible. Keep steaming water just below boiling point, with the steamer's cover slightly ajar if necessary. Steam till custard is just set in the middle, 35-45 minutes depending on steaming temperature and thickness of custard before steaming. Test by inserting skewer in the middle and wriggling slightly (the skewer, not you). If skewer comes out clean, kueh is done. Final steps: Remove kueh to a wire rack. Allow to cool completely and set, 3 hours or so. Unmould by lifting parchment paper, onto a chopping board. Cut kueh with an oiled knife, scraping knife after each cut. Discard parchment paper. Serve as dessert, snack or for tea. Rice should be firm, not mushy; custard should be soft, smooth and rich. Refrigerate leftovers for up to 2-3 days, then bring to room temperature. Steam over rapidly bubbling water to reheat, about 4 minutes if cut serving size. Don't steam longer than necessary or colours would fade. Cool to room temperature before eating. 22 August 2012 update: Just thawed a piece of frozen kueh salat and steamed it. Guess what? It eats like it's freshly made.

10-Minute Kaya (I)

If you google "kaya hours of stirring", you'll find people (like here and here) who really do stand beside their pots of kaya, stirring away for hours on end. I greatly admire their patience, dedication and tenacity but sadly these are virtues I don't possess. So I make kaya the quick way, in 10 minutes.

What's the difference between the longie and quickie? More importantly, is the quality compromised if you take 10 minutes instead of two hours? Well, the ingredients are more or less the same except for egg whites. The longie has egg whites; the quickie doesn't. Egg whites, being 90% water and 10% proteins, make the kaya less rich. That is, to me, not a good thing, especially when "kaya" means rich. But I imagine those in the anti-fats and anti-cholesterol brigade would jump with joy. In fact, they probably make their kaya whites-only, no-sugar, and without coconut milk. Urgh!

Kaya made with whole eggs has to be cooked at a very low temperature. That's why it's heated over a water bath, and it has to be stirred continuously. If the temperature is too high, the egg whites would turn lumpy and ruin the kaya.

Meanwhile, the sugar has to caramelize, which starts happening at about 160°C. But it's sitting in a pool of coconut milk that consists of mainly water. H2O's maximum temperature is 100°C, right? That's way too low for browning sugar. So, before any caramelization takes place, most of the H2O has to evaporate. Which is done ever so gently over a water bath so that the princessy egg whites don't get grumpy and lumpy. Even when the caramelization finally happens, along with the thickening as water evaporates, it's very slow because of the minimal heat. Now you see why making traditional kaya takes hours of dedicated stirring?

The hard labour may be easily avoided by doing two things: One, omitting the egg whites, thus allowing the kaya to be cooked at a higher temperature without a water bath. Two, replace some of the white sugar with palm sugar, which doesn't need to be caramelized. It has a lovely caramel fragrance as it is without any fuss. The simple re-engineering slashes the cooking time to 10-15 minutes. Efficiency improves, productivity rises, hallelujah! Making kaya is a royal pain no more.

Imagine smothering your morning toast with kaya that's full of the fragrance of fresh coconut milk, palm sugar and pandan. But it's not cloyingly sweet, and you're in the comfort of your own home instead of fighting the crazy crowds at Ya Kun or Chin Mee Chin. Oh yes, don't forget the slices of cold butter and half-boiled eggs, and tea or coffee to wash everything down. Now that's a breakfast worth waking up for!

12 June 2012 Update
Click here for my step-by-step video.

10-MINUTE KAYA (COCONUT EGG JAM) (Recipe for 1 cup) 45 g sugar 45 g palm sugar 200 ml undiluted fresh coconut milk 4 young, light green pandan leaves wash and cut 5 cm long 4 yolks make sure there's no egg white at all To make kaya, cook sugar, palm sugar, coconut milk and pandan leaves over medium heat, stirring constantly, till just starting to simmer gently. Turn off heat. Stir egg yolks and, at the same time, slowly add half of coconut milk mixture. Next, pour all of egg mixture into remaining coconut milk in one go. Over medium heat, cook combined mixture till slightly thickened, stirring constantly. Reduce heat to low. Continue stirring till mixture is thick enough to coat sides of pot thickly. Taste and add more sugar if necessary. Discard pandan leaves. Transfer to a bowl or bottle. Leave till completely cool. Cover and refrigerate. May be stored up to 1 week. Bring to room temperature before serving if you want a softer, squidgy consistency. To make kaya toast the traditional way, grill thickly sliced old-fashioned white bread over charcoal till surface is burnt. Scrape off burnt layer. Cut each slice horizontally in the middle into 2 thinner slices. Spread with kaya, generously, and top with slices of cold butter. Butter should be at least 2 mm thick or you're a wimp. Cut sandwich into 2 or 3 pieces. Serve immediately whilst hot and crisp. Best when dipped in half-boiled eggs seasoned with dark soya sauce and ground white pepper. Coffee or tea, made with water boiled over charcoal – gas or electricity is for wimps – is a must. Slice of butter in the coffee isn't but it's an excellent option. To cool drink quickly, pour into a saucer and then drink from the saucer. Yes, drink from the saucer like a cat.

Dry-Fried Bitter Gourd

There're two types of bitter gourd in my neck of the woods: big and small. I think some health freaks enthusiasts buy the small ones to make juice? Ewww . . . . They look really bitter – the gourds, not the fr . . . sorry, health enthusiasts.

Bitter gourds that are really bitter have hard, narrow ridges and are darker green. The less bitter ones are relatively softer, less green, more yellow, and have wide ridges. The bitter gourds I cook are the big ones that, over the years, have become less bitter. I used to sweat them before cooking but that's not necessary now.

I love frying the living daylights out of thinly sliced bitter gourd. The wok must be stonking hot and no water is added so that everything is dry and nicely charred. That includes an egg which, because there's too little oil, sticks to the wok and burns. I then scrape it up with a spatula, making sure I get everything off. These little bits of slightly burnt eggs, along with the garlic and caramelized light soya sauce, add to the fragrance from the charred bitter gourd.

Dry-fried bitter gourd may look quite unattractive compared to a green and moist stir-fry that has water added. But the strong aroma more than makes up for the lack of looks. I'd rather enjoy bitter gourd with my mouth and nose than eyes. The proof of the pudding is in the eating!

DRY-FRIED BITTER GOURD (干扁苦瓜) (Recipe for 4 persons) 250 g bitter gourd (aka bitter melon), rinsed, trimmed and thinly sliced crosswise 1 tbsp vegetable oil 1 big clove garlic, thinly sliced 1 tbsp light soya sauce pinch of sugar 1 egg, beaten with ½ tsp light soya sauce Spread out bitter gourd on a plate for 10-15 minutes so that it dries out a bit. Heat wok (preferably not non-stick) till stonking hot. Add oil and heat till just smoking. Add garlic and stir to coat with oil. Do not brown. Add bitter gourd. Stir briefly, then spread out bitter gourd in the wok and let it fry, without stirring, till lightly brown. Turn over and fry till second side is also lightly brown. Drizzle with 1 tbsp light soya sauce and add pinch of sugar. Stir till soya sauce is absorbed. Drizzle with beaten egg. Wait a few seconds for the egg to turn slightly brown. Mix gently, scraping any egg that may be stuck to the wok. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Plate and serve.

Brain Food – For the Brave

Pig brains used to be a popular food for Chinese. The practice has died out more or less, but I thought it would be nice to have a record of how traditional Double-Boiled Pig Brain Soup is made. And also Pig Brain Omelette, which is the photo on the left. Doesn't look too bad, does it? The other photos, however, are a bit gruesome, to be honest. So, if you're squeamish, you should not read this post. Did you get that? Repeat:

GO AWAY IF YOU'RE SQUEAMISH!

This post is for those who are brave, or those who have a bit of Hannibal in them. If you think you're one of them, please continue reading. Or come back later if you just ate.

Don't blame me if you're going 'Aaaaargh!' or 'Eeeeew!' I did warn you. This is what a pig's raw brain looks like. What did you expect? See the bit of bone fragment on the left? Nice, eh?

I don't know if other tribes eat the membrane surrounding the brain but my tribe – 'Ooonga oonga!' – doesn't. To remove the blood vessels, you stick a toothpick into the web, then twirl. All the red stuff would wind itself around the toothpick.

This is what it looks like after it's done. The twirling takes a couple of minutes.

After a thorough rinse, the brain is ready for the pot. Yes, it's soft, and slimy after it's washed.

Make a double-boiled soup with some lean pork and Chinese herbs such as ginseng, dang gui or cordyceps. Add a couple of Chinese dried dates for sweetness.

Or make an omelette, which doesn't look scary at all. No one would know what's in it unless you tell them. The brain doesn't taste nasty, just soft and creamy. If you say it's beancurd, it's totally plausible.

Judging from the price – 50 cents each – I guess the brain isn't the most treasured part of the pig now. In the old days, they were extremely popular around exam time. My mother had to go to the market early in the morning to make sure she got one. Like many other Chinese mothers, she believed pig brains improved intelligence, and ginseng provided an energy boost. So, I had double-boiled brain and ginseng soup faithfully waiting for me once or twice a week, just before going to bed. Only when school exams loomed, mind you, to make sure I scored well. Rest of the time, we had Pig Brain Omelette occasionally on Sundays. It was a treat, believe it or not, and the 'brainy' bits were the most coveted. Ah yes, those were the days . . . .

DOUBLED-BOILED PIG BRAIN SOUP (Recipe for 1 person) 8 slices dang gui, or 15 slices American ginseng 1 pig brain, cleaned as described above 100 g lean pork, rinsed 2 Chinese dried red dates, rinsed Put all ingredients in a small bowl or ramekin that can hold 300 ml (1¼ cups). Add ½ cup water. Cover the bowl or ramekin, with aluminium foil if it doesn't have a proper cover. Double-boil with gently simmering water for 3 hours. If you like, remove the herbs and dates, which are not eaten. Serve hot. Typically, pig brain soup is taken just before going to bed so that it's not eaten with other stuff that might negate the benefits of the brain and herbs. Anything acidic such as oranges is a big no-no till the soup is digested and absorbed! As are salt and pepper in the soup for the same reason. PIG BRAIN OMELETTE (Recipe for 4 persons) 1 pig brain, cleaned as described above, and cut into small, bite size pieces 2 eggs 2 tsp light soya sauce couple of dashes ground white pepper ½ tsp Shaoxing wine small pinch of sugar 3 tsp vegetable oil 1 tbsp roughly chopped Chinese parsley I like to add 1 tbsp milk/water/stock per egg when making omelettes but not for a 'brainy omelette' because there's quite a bit of water in the crevices. Beat all ingredients except oil and Chinese parsley till thoroughly combined. Heat wok or frying pan (18 cm would be just right) till very hot. Add 2 tsp oil and heat till almost smoking. Add egg mixture. Fry over medium heat till bottom is lightly golden, pushing edges to the middle so that the omelette cooks evenly. When eggs are 75% set, cut omelette into 4 pieces with a spatula. Turn each piece over. Add Chinese parsley. Drizzle with 1 tsp oil. Fry till the second side is also lightly golden brown. Plate and serve