Babi Masak Assam

Compared to Shermay Lee, who supposedly began learning Peranakan cuisine when she was 5 years old, Wee Eng Hwa was a very late starter. She began learning Nyonya cookery at the relatively ancient age of 47. Fortunately, she had two advantages over the self-proclaimed culinary child prodigy. One, she could see what was in the wok without standing on a chair. Two, her sifu has been guiding her for some 20 years. Shermay's, even if you believe her marketing spin, kicked the bucket after lesson one.

Judging from Cooking for the President, Mrs Wee Kim Wee has been an outstanding sifu to her daughter. What about Mrs Wee herself? Who was her sifu? No, it wasn't her mother. Instead, it was her maternal grandmother, Saw Hai Choo. Mrs Wee, who was the matriarch's eldest granddaughter and favourite, recalls:

'Granny had an extremely sharp nose and very discerning taste buds. One morning, while I was cooking ikan masak assam – my first attempt at cooking that dish – Granny came home from the market and exclaimed loudly from afar, 'Telampon assam, kurang garam,' meaning in Baba Malay, too sour and not enough salt. She had not even entered the house, but from the aroma wafting out of the kitchen, she could "taste" the food I was cooking!'

In fact, Mama Choo's eyes were as sharp as her taste buds and nose. Did you know she handpicked and matchmade Wee Kim Wee to her granddaughter?

Two of Mr and Mrs Wee's seven children were born before Mama Choo passed away in 1940. The eldest, Wee Hock Kee, recalls:

'Cho-cho would reject any ingredient that was not cut in the correct way. She would not accept sloppy preparation of food. She would follow up by asking for a spoonful of the food to taste. It had to be just perfect. I remember Cho-cho had a strong loud voice. Often, she would complain, "Macham ayer longkang!" meaning, like ditch water in Baba Malay, if a soup or gravy dish was not up to par.'

What would Mama Choo have said about Shermay Lee's bamboo shoot water? Without a doubt, 'Worse than ayer longkang!'

After reading about the legendary cook who didn't mince her words, I was eager to try one of her recipes. I picked Babi Masak Assam because it seemed like the kind of thing I'd like, and I wasn't disappointed. The big pot of spicy, sour and salty meat and vegetables had strong, bold flavours that were right up my alley. I particularly liked the mix of three types of mustard greens: salted, sour and fresh. That was fun 'cause all the veggies looked the same after they were braised, so I had no idea what I was eating until I started chewing. Did anyone mention longkang? Nope, not at all, thanks to Mama Choo who passed her cooking skills to her granddaughter, who passed to her daughter, who passed to me and the whole world by writing an excellent cookbook. Had Mama Choo seen Cooking for the President, I'm sure she'd have been very proud of it.

BABI MASAK ASSAM (PORK & MUSTARD GREENS IN SPICY TAMARIND GRAVY) Source: Cooking for the President – Reflections & Recipes of Mrs Wee Kim Wee (Recipe for 8 persons) 200 g kiam chye (咸菜/salted mustard greens) cut lengthwise 4 cm wide, then crosswise 7 mm wide 200 g sng chye (酸菜/sour mustard greens) cut leaves crosswise 2.5 cm wide, and stems 1 cm wide 15 g dried red chillies (15 pieces) cut 5 cm long and soak in warm water till soft, about 30 minutes; squeeze dry and discard water 20 g candlenuts (6 pieces) 300 g shallots, peel, wash and cut into small pieces 180 ml vegetable oil (I used 120 ml) 25 g belachan toast till fragrant and dry; pound/grind finely to yield 2 tbsp 30 g light brown taucheo (fermented soya bean) paste 700 g pork belly cut along the grain 3 cm wide, then across the grain 1.5 cm thick 15 g sugar (1 tbsp) 120 g assam paste knead in 1.5 litres water and strain; discard seeds and pulp 2 pieces assam gelugoh (tamarind skin), rinse thoroughly 500 g kwak chye (芥菜; Chinese mustard greens), wash and cut 5 cm long 100 g green chillies (10 pieces), rinse and trim stems, leaving 3-4 mm salt to taste (I didn't add any) Mama Choo's recipe specifies small mustard greens (小芥菜) but I think the big ones (大芥菜/大菜) are ok too. Anyways, I couldn't find any skinny ones. Soak kiam chye and sng chye in water for 15 minutes. Drain, squeeze dry, and set aside. Pound or blend candlenuts, dried chillies and shallots till very fine. Fry in hot oil over medium-low to low heat until light brown and aromatic. Add belachan powder and stir through. Push aside. Stir-fry taucheo over low heat until intensely aromatic, about 5 minutes. Add pork and sugar. Fry over low heat for 5 minutes. Add assam water, assam gelugoh, kiam chye and sng chye. Simmer till pork is half-tender, about 45 minutes. Add fresh mustard greens and green chillies. Simmer till all ingredients are tender but pork retains some bite, about 15 minutes. Sauce should cling lightly to pork and vegetables. Add water or boil rapidly to reduce as appropriate. Taste and add salt to taste. Serve hot. Sambal belachan with a squeeze of calamansi lime juice would make a nice dip.

Not LKY's Babi Pongteh

Cast your mind back, all the way back to when you were 5 years old. Do you remember anything much?

Would you believe a 5-year-old child is capable of learning how to cook, and remembers what she's learnt when she's a 28-year-old adult? Would you believe a 5-year-old can be instilled with a passion for cooking?

This is what Shermay Lee, author of The New Mrs Lee's Cookbook and The New Mrs Lee's Cookbook Vol. 2, says on her cookery school's website:

"Shermay started cooking at the age of 5. She learnt the rudiments of cooking first from her grandmother, Mrs Lee Chin Koon, who was considered the doyen of Peranakan cuisine and was the author of the famous cookbook, Mrs Lee's Cookbook, a kitchen stalwart published three decades ago."

And this is what Shermay says in her first cookbook:

"[My grandmother] instilled in me a passion for cooking from a very young age."

What did 5-year-old Shermay do in her grandma's Peranakan kitchen? Could her little wee hands handle knives, ladles, or a mortar and pestle? Did she stand her little wee legs on a chair to watch her grandmother stir-fry sambal in hot oil? What exactly did little Shermay cook? Would you, dear reader, let your 5-year-old child boil an egg, assuming you could do so without being sued for child negligence?

Why does Shermay Lee say she started cooking at the age of 5, which must sound totally ridiculous to anyone with common sense?

Two reasons: One, her grandmother was Lee Kuan Yew's mother. Two, said grandmother very inconveniently kicked the bucket when Shermay was 5. If little Shermay weren't cooking when she was 5 or younger, then she didn't learn anything from Lee Kuan Yew's mother. In which case, the only selling point for her cookery school and cookbooks wouldn't exist.

Shermay Lee's two cookbooks are an update of her grandmother's Mrs Lee's Cookbook, which was published in 1974. The first updated recipe that makes me scratch my head is Bawan Kepiting, a Chinese style clear soup with crab meatballs. The stock is made with 300 g of bamboo shoot fried for 2 minutes, then simmered 10 minutes in 2.3 litres of water. And that's it, there's nothing else in the stock except sugar and salt. It's so totally bizarre it can't possibly be correct!

What does Grandma's original cookbook say? Aaah, there's indeed an ingredient missing after her granddaughter modified the recipe to suit modern times. Is it an old mother hen? Some expensive dried scallops from Japan? Yunnan ham from China? No, the missing ingredient is – hold on to your chair! – 2 tsp of MSG in the stock, plus another 1 tsp in the meatballs!

Wow, THREE WHOLE TEASPOONFULS OF MSG, which work out to ¼ tsp per rice bowl-sized portion! That's a hell of a lot but at least the soup MSG water would taste of . . . MSG. Bamboo shoot water, on the other hand, would taste of . . . water.

Curious, I check out the Pong Tauhu recipe to see if it's any better. Believe it or not, the soup containing meatballs made with beancurd and pork has almost twice as much MSG as the Bawan Kepiting. Almost ½ tsp per serving! Good grief!

Shock and horror aside, there's something in the Pong Tauhu recipe that makes me laugh: pounding beancurd with a mortar and pestle. That's like LKY totally obliterating his enemies, isn't it? Seriously, why pound beancurd? Just squash it with your hands or, if you want it really fine, push it through a sieve.

The recipe for Heepeow Soup is equally bizarre. The stock is made with 1.2 kg of pork or pork bones, which is nowhere near enough for the 6 litres of water used but at least it's better than a few shreds of tree trunk. Except the meat needs 1½-2 hours of gentle simmering to release its flavour, whilst big pork bones need at least 3-4 hours. The recipe, however, tells you to simmer for only 30 minutes. So it's just another pot of water, with or without MSG depending on whether you follow the grandma or granddaughter.

There are, floating in the water, yellow (!) prawn meatballs deliberately jaundiced with artificial food colouring. Next to the weird looking meatballs float slices of pork maw which stink because piggy tummy can't be cleaned properly by just rubbing it with salt. There're fishballs too, made by beating 600 g of finely minced fish with a dash of pepper, then gradually adding 350 ml of water while stirring continuously, followed by beating the mixture till it's smooth, then adding 1 tbsp of salt. You know what? If this fish paste makes fishballs that are bouncy, I will – to borrow a colourful phrase from the Cantonese – chop off my head and let Shermay Lee sit on it!

Little Shermay "learnt the rudiments of cooking" when she was 5, eh? Judging from her soups, she didn't know the basics even when she released her first cookbook as a 28-year-old adult. Neither did Mrs Lee Chin Koon who was supposed to be "the doyen of Peranakan cuisine". Did you know LKY's mother gave cooking lessons to British and Australian expatriates? I hope they liked MSG and jaundiced meatballs!

Bad recipes are one thing but dangerous ones are another. If you make a raw fish salad with, as Shermay Lee instructs, fresh ikan parang (wolf herring) bought at a wet market, you have a 99.99% chance of being very sick, or dead. Fish and stuff not sitting on ice are quite common at markets, and there's filth and dirt whichever way you turn. Even if there's fish that's sashimi grade, it's bound to be contaminated by something that isn't. Obviously, Princess Shermay has never been to less-than-clean wet markets where grubby commoners with questionable personal hygiene poke and prod everything. Well, why would she? Her cousin, LKY's younger son, has his personal chef fly to Japan just to buy sashimi! I'd guess her lifestyle is similar to his.

The New Mrs Lee's Cookbook, published in 2003, won two awards from Gourmand World: Best Cookbook Award and Special Award of the Jury in the Respect of Tradition. It was a bestseller in Singapore, as was the second volume published in 2004, and both books received strong reviews in a number of publications. Did the judges, reviewers and readers notice the appalling soups, the Satay Ayam Goreng that's boiled even though 'Goreng' means fried, and the Mee Siam made without assam? These, along with deep-fried (!) Peking Duck, were award winning recipes?! For tradition?!

The recipe I'm sharing today is Babi Pongteh from Cooking for the President. I've chosen this over the one Lee Kuan Yew grew up eating because his mother and niece say babi pongteh has coriander powder whereas babi chin doesn't. That is, of course, incorrect. It's babi chin which has coriander power, and babi pongteh which doesn't . . . unless Lee Kuan Yew has decreed otherwise? He might not have but if you're his relation, your cookbooks will win awards and you'll get paid to give lessons even if you can't tell your babi pongteh from babi chin. All you need to know is how to make bamboo shoot water, or add MSG by the bucketload.

BABI PONGTEH (FERMENTED SOYA BEAN & GARLIC PORK STEW) Source: Cooking for the President – Reflections & Recipes of Mrs Wee Kim Wee (Recipe for 8-12 persons) 1.5 kg front pork knuckle with trotter chop chunky, blanch in boiling water, remove hair if any, rinse thoroughly and marinate with 4 tsp thick dark soya sauce for 30 minutes 160 ml vegetable oil (I used only 30 ml) 50 g shallots peel, wash and pound semi-finely 80 g garlic peel, wash and pound semi-finely 60 g light brown taucheo (fermented soya bean) paste 2 tbsp light soya sauce 2 tsp thick dark soya sauce 20 g palm sugar 100 g sugar cane (30 cm long), or 25 g rock sugar wash and quarter sugar cane lengthwise; chop each quarter into 4 pieces ¼ tsp salt Optional 10 medium size Chinese dried mushrooms (60 g) rinse and soak in 500 ml water till soft, abut 30 minutes; trim and reserve stems, along with the water 100 g canned bamboo shoots cut into bite size wedges 6 mm thick; boil a few minutes; drain 200 g reconstituted sea cucumber cut crosswise 5 cm wide and lengthwise 3 cm thick; soak in water till ready to cook In a wok, fry shallots in hot vegetable oil over low heat till translucent. Add garlic and stir-fry till everything is lightly golden. Add fermented soya bean paste and fry till semi-dry, intensely aromatic, and colour changes, about 3 minutes. Reduce heat to very low. Add light and dark soya sauce. Fry 10 seconds. Add pork and marinade. Increase heat slightly to low (from very low). Stir-fry till semi-dry and intensely aromatic, about 10 minutes. Transfer to a pot. Deglaze wok with 1 cup water. Add the water to the pork, along with palm sugar, sugar cane, salt and, if using, mushrooms, mushroom stems, mushroom water, and bamboo shoots. Top up with enough water to just cover. Bring to a boil. Cover and simmer gently, adding more water when necessary, till pork is tender but still has some bite. This should take about 2¼ hours. Add sea cucumber, if using, and bring to a boil. Sauce should be medium brown and with substance, not thin and watery. Increase heat to boil rapidly if necessary. Taste and adjust seasoning (I added 2 tbsp taucheo liquid). Turn off heat. Serve hot, topped with crushed red bird's eye chillies. Alternatively, sambal belachan with a squeeze of calamansi juice would make a nice dip. Eat with steamed rice, or you can dip toasted French loaf in the Babi Pongteh sauce.

Paper-Wrapped Chicken

I hadn't had 纸包鸡 (Paper-Wrapped Chicken) for such a long time I'd forgotten what it was like. I couldn't see the point of wrapping chicken in paper and then deep-frying it. Surely the chicken would steam in its own juices underneath the paper shield? So why not just steam it? Or deep-fry without the paper?

On the other hand, I liked the idea of unwrapping little parcels of food because that would be like unwrapping presents. And I thought maybe the paper served a purpose I couldn't see by theorizing. So I had a practical session and . . . . 'Wow! Hello there, Chee Pow Kai! Where have you been?'

The paper in 纸包鸡 did serve a purpose. It gave the chicken the best of two worlds: steaming and deep-frying. Because the meat juices had nowhere to escape, the chicken was extremely juicy, much juicier than paperless deep-fried chicken could ever be. At the same time, there was the fragrance of browned chicken though it wasn't crisp. In fact, the aroma wasn't just on the outside of the chicken. The wonderful flavour was inside the meat as well because the paper acted like a shield, preventing it from going anywhere else. I couldn't have unwrapped a better present!

I vaguely recall my mother making 纸包鸡 a few times in the 70s, when it was very popular and considered quite posh. Now, it's so rare it's either novel or nostalgic, depending on how old you are. It's a pity something so good has gone out of fashion. I wouldn't have made 纸包鸡, or even thought of it, if a friend hadn't sent me this hilarious Cantonese cartoon (if you prefer Mandarin, click here):



Sylvia Tan, author of Singapore Heritage Food, claims that 纸包鸡 was invented in Singapore in 1953. After reading Sylvia Tan's story, ieat concludes 'There was no doubt . . . Chee Pow Kai was invented by Union Farm [Eating House].' Hmm, really?

If 纸包鸡 were invented in Singapore, why is it one of Guangxi cuisine's most famous dishes? Is it likely a recipe briefly popular in Singapore has 'infiltrated' China's food culture? Some websites say Guangxi's 纸包鸡 was invented in the 1920s in Wuzhou, where 纸包鸡 is considered one of the city's 'must-eats'. In fact, Wuzhou's 纸包鸡 was documented as one of 'China's bests' by the TV programme, 中国一绝. That was in 1985 when China was still quite isolated, and had little contact with Singapore. In 1992, a Guangxi chef won a cooking competition in Hong Kong with 纸包鸡. Surely he didn't use a recipe that was popular in Singapore for a short while in the 1970s?

I've always thought 纸包鸡 is Cantonese because it's usually referred to in Cantonese, chee pow kai. If it's from China, shouldn't it be Guangdong instead of Guangxi? Well, I have a hunch. Let's google 'Wuzhou language', shall we?

*type type type click click click . . .*

Hah, just as I thought! It's Cantonese, and the city is Cantonese in culture and spirit although it's technically in Guangxi. Bingo!

Sylvia Tan's story about Union Farm inventing 纸包鸡 has more holes than a colander. The final nail in her coffin is a 1988 article in The Straits Times which stated that Union House's 纸包鸡 recipe was 'given by a Hong Kong opera actress'. But Sylvia/ieat's twisted version is: 'One fine day, a famous actor from Hong Kong suggested to the [Union House] owner that he should create a dish out of the chicken. Thus, the Chee Pow Kai came into existence.' See the clever twist by leaving out rather than adding something?

Oh well, 纸包鸡 is delicious no matter where it's from. Now that I've dusted the cobwebs from the recipe, I'll definitely be making Paper-Wrapped Chicken now and then. Me being old-fashioned me, I have problems going totally paperless.

25 September 2011 Update

Just got hold of Singapore Heritage Food. This is what Sylvia Tan actually says about paper-wrapped chicken:

'One restaurant in Singapore, Union Farm, single-handedly popularised this dish in Singapore. Originally a chicken farm, it has become a full-time restaurant still serving paper-wrapped chicken decades later.'

There's no mention at all about where paper-wrapped chicken was invented. But, in his post here, ieat says,

'I had just picked up Sylvia Tan's, Singapore Heritage Foods, and came across the origins of Chee Pow Kai and discovered to my surprise, that the restaurant that invented them are still in existence.'

Does the doctor not make a distinction between popularising and inventing something? Gosh, I hope he's a bit more discerning when he's treating his patients!

PAPER-WRAPPED CHICKEN (纸包鸡, CHEE POW KAI) Source: Adapted from Cooking for the President (Recipe for 4 persons) 4 small spring chicken legs weighing 600 g, debone to yield 500 g meat . . . don't use bigger or kampong/organic chicken if you want juicy, silky 纸包鸡 Marinade 15 g ginger 15 g shallots 20 g garlic ½ tbsp sugar ¾ tsp salt ½ tsp ground white pepper ½ tbsp light soya sauce 1 tsp dark soya sauce 1 tbsp oyster sauce 1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce 1 tbsp Shaoxing wine 1 tsp Cognac 1 tbsp white sesame oil 1 tbsp vegetable oil 1 tbsp tapioca flour 16 pieces parchment paper, cut 25 x 15 cm oil for deep-frying I've tried Sakura chicken vs regular spring chicken, both from Fairprice. For this recipe, the spring chicken is much better. The pounded ginger, garlic and shallot paste is also crucial. It browns during the deep-frying and creates a lovely fragrance. If only the juices are used, minus the pulp, the 纸包鸡 would be like steamed chicken. To prepare chicken, rinse and cut each leg into 8 pieces. Peel and rinse ginger, shallots and garlic. Cut into small pieces. Pound finely, or blitz in a mini chopper. Mix thoroughly with all other marinade ingredients and chicken. Leave to marinate for 1 hour, or up to 24 hours. Just before wrapping, drizzle with sesame oil and vegetable oil and mix thoroughly. Sprinkle with tapioca flour and mix again. To wrap chicken, place parchment paper in a stack facing you horizontally. Fold left ⅓ of paper to the right, then right ⅓ to the left. Turn over, and fold bottom ⅓ upward. You now have fold lines for turning each piece of paper into a pocket. Form a pocket with parchment paper. Fill with 2 pieces of chicken. Do not include any excess marinade. Fold left and right corner of top flap downward, forming a triangle. Tuck triangle into bottom flap as snugly as possible. Place wrapped chicken on a plate, flap side facing up. Repeat with remaining paper and chicken. To deep-fry, place wrapped chicken in just smoking oil over medium-high heat till medium brown, about ½ minute each side. Remove from heat and reheat oil. Refry chicken for a few seconds till dark brown. Drain and serve immediately.

Lemon Curd Marbled Cheese Cake

I love the lemon tree in my garden, especially when it's full of lemons. She (yes, she!) was planted by my grandfather in 1931, so the grand old dame is celebrating her 80th birthday this year. Her trunk is gnarled with age but Mrs Taango – that's what we call her because: lemon → tang → Taango – still produces a load of fruits every year.

Mrs Taango is so pretty I never get tired of looking at her. I love the bunches of yellow lemons hanging against the white-washed stone walls, and the kitchen door which is bright blue – the exact same shade of blue as the cloudless Mediterranean sky . . . .

'Hello? Hello? Earth to KT! Earth calling . . . KT!'

THUD! (Sound of KT landing back on earth.)

Huh? What? Oh shucks! I'm not in the Mediterranean! I don't have a garden. I don't have any 80-year-old lemon tree. I get my lemons from a crummy supermarket.
Oh no! N₀oOo₀oO . . . !

But there is hope yet. Maybe the Greek or Italian economy will fall into a big, black hole, bigger and blacker than the one they're in now, and someone out there will sell his lemon orchard cheap . . . with a nice house thrown in . . . blue door optional!

*sigh*

Vewy depwessed . . . . I need something to cheer me up. Let me eat cake or, better still, let me eat cheesecake. And it has to be lemon, my favourite flavour for cheesecake because it's the perfect foil for cream cheese. One's tart; the other's rich – a great combination for food (and sometimes people too).

*munch munch munch, chomp chomp*

Rrrrr . . . . Whoa, my brain is whirring away with the cheesecake as fuel. You know what? If the earth opened up and swallowed the euro, that'd work too. Everything in ex-Euroland will go for a song, and I'll get all the lemon trees I want, plus a few olive orchards, and a house mansion with an infinity pool overlooking the Mediterranean Sea . . . .

*sigh*

More cheesecake, please!

LEMON CURD MARBLED CHEESECAKE Source: Maggie Ruggiero, Gourmet, July 2006 (Recipe for one 9- to 9½-inch cake; serves 10) Click here for the recipe. The cake should be baked for about 60 minutes instead of the recipe's guide for 45 minutes. A water-bath and cooling the cake in the oven would help prevent cracks. The original recipe is rather rich for my Chinese palate, so I make a lighter (but still rich) version. Here's what I do: Reduce the lemon curd recipe by 1 egg and 1 tbsp butter, and add ½ tsp cornflour so that the curd still thickens well with less eggs and butter. Replace the sour cream (35% fat) in the filling with thick set natural yogurt (3% fat), drained to make it thicker and less sour.

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.

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.