Sui Gaw (水餃)

Dried sole is a crucial ingredient in sui gaw. It's grilled or roasted till dry and crisp, then pounded so that it's not too small (you wouldn't be able to taste it) nor too big (would be gritty). Added to the filling, dried sole gives sui gaw a unique toasty flavour. And if the stock is simmered with a few chunks of the dried fish, that's even better.

To make good "water dumplings", the prawns in the filling must be fresh. Ok, I know you know that. Here's a more useful tip: blot the prawns with plenty of paper towels after rinsing. If there's time, leave 'em in the fridge for a few hours, uncovered, so that they dry out a bit more. The drier the prawns are, the firmer they'll be after they're cooked.

Sui gaw filling must have lard or it'd be dry. Again, everyone knows that. What most people don't know is, we're NOT gonna keel over with a heart attack or stroke just because we eat lard every day. Don't believe me? Fine, go google for scientific studies that show there's a correlation between eating saturated fats and heart diseases, strokes, whatever. There should be heaps, right? Well, if you can find one, just one, I'll . . . bake you a LARDY CAKE!

When you cook a lump of minced meat, the proteins join together to form a tight, hard ball which is not very nice. The Italians overcome this problem by adding bread soaked in milk to their meatballs. The Chinese add other stuff like water, cornflour, tapioca starch, eggs, dried mushrooms and Chinese chives. Did you think water chestnuts are added only for their crunch? Well, now you know the coarsely chopped bits also help soften the meat filling.

Making good dumplings is only half the story. The stock can make or break sui gaw soup, so you need a good one. Before cooking the dumplings in the stock, blanch them in boiling water to wash away excess flour on the wrappers and also some of the lye. Lastly, add some veggies to the sui gaw soup. A bit of green on food is like a slick of lipstick on women.

Okey dokes, enough with the theory; here's the step-by-step how-to practical to help you make good sui gaw:

SUI GAW (水餃; WATER DUMPLINGS) (Recipe for 28 pieces, or 34 smaller ones pleated) 250 g minced pork 100 g minced lard 200 g prawns shell, keeping the shells and heads for making stock; devein, rinse and dry thoroughly with paper towels; cut pea-sized ½ tsp salt 30 g dried mushrooms break off stalks; soak caps in 3 tbsp water till soft, about 30 minutes; squeeze dry, reserving the liquid; chop roughly; stalks and liquid may be used for making stock 20 g dried sole, boneless tear into small pieces; roast at 180°C till brown, crisp and fragrant, about 20 minutes depending on the thickness; pound into 3-4 mm bits 120 g water chestnuts (6 pieces) peel, rinse and chop roughly into 3-4 mm bits 1 tbsp egg 1 tbsp light soya sauce 1 tbsp oyster sauce ½ tbsp Shaoxing wine ½ tbsp white sesame oil 28 or 34 sui gaw wrappers 1 beaten egg (add 1 tbsp to filling) if making crescent-shaped dumplings 1 litre chicken or pork stock, seasoned to taste 250 g green leafy veg, such as nai bai (奶白) or choy sum (菜心) rinse thoroughly; cut bite-sized 3 tbsp fried shallots ground white pepper Thoroughly mix minced pork, lard, prawns and salt. Gather mixture into a ball. Throw mixture back into the bowl, hard. Repeat 3-4 minutes. Add water chestnuts, mushrooms, sole, egg, light soya sauce, oyster sauce, wine and oil. Mix evenly. For unpleated dumplings, place 25 g filling on a wrapper. Smear some egg on edges of wrapper and fold to form crescent shape. Press edges to seal. For pleated dumplings, use 20 g filling per wrapper. Pleat as show in the video (2:21-2:37), then use water instead of egg to seal edges. To cook dumplings, bring pot of water and chicken stock to a boil. Keep stock simmering gently. Over high heat, blanch dumplings in the water till half cooked. Increase heat for stock to high. Transfer dumplings to the stock with a slotted spoon. Boil gently till cooked through. To test, place a dumpling in a spoon or ladle and press with chopsticks. Dumplings are done if hard. Transfer to serving bowls with a slotted spoon. Add vegetables to stock. Bring to a gentle simmer. Turn off the heat. Divide vegetables and stock between serving bowls. Top with fried shallots. Serve immediately, adding ground white pepper to taste before eating.

Teochew Ngoh Hiang

I can never get enough of ngoh hiang, the deep-fried meat rolls that are full of the fragrance of five-spice powder and yam, the sweetness of prawns and pork, and the crunch of water chestnuts. The salty beancurd skin wrapped around the filling adds to the aroma and, more importantly, it stops moisture from escaping, keeping the meat roll moist and juicy. Mmmmm . . . .

What makes Teochew ngoh hiang Teochew? It's the yam, which Hokkien ngoh hiang doesn't have. Of course, the Teochew version is far superior, in my totally unbiased, impartial opinion.

Seetoh is right about Teochew ngoh hiang having yam (0:25 in the video). But the yam isn't used as a thickener. Instead, it's added because it complements the five-spice powder, 五香粉, which gives the meat roll its name, 五香.

Does Teochew 五香 have a lot of flour, as Seetoh says? Only when cost is more important than quality, and flour is used as a cheap filler! That goes for anything made with minced meat, not just ngoh hiang, and certainly not just ngoh hiang that's Teochew.

I guess Seetoh doesn't know much about Teochew ngoh hiang, and he's eaten only bad ones. But he is right about one thing though. Good ngoh hiang, be it Hokkien or Teochew, must have lard. Please repeat after me: Good ngoh hiang must have lard! All together now: Good ngoh hiang must have LOTS of lard! Praise the lard! Hallelujah . . . . HalleluLARD!

People stopped eating lard in the 1980s, fearing for their life. But 30 years of abstaining from delicious pork fat hasn't delivered any of the benefits promised. The number of people suffering from high blood pressure, obesity, high cholesterol, strokes and heart diseases have increased relentlessly over the past three decades. So why is everyone still afraid of lard? And even eggs, which doctors have given the ok for donkey's years? Because abstaining from something enjoyable harks back to their childhood. It reminds them of how they were praised when, as kids, they did as they were told. It gives them a reason to say, as their parents did when they didn't misbehave, 'Good girl/boy!'

Do you want to be naughty for a change? If you do, scroll down for the recipe.

TEOCHEW NGOH HIANG (五香, FIVE-SPICE MEAT ROLLS) (Recipe for 16 small rolls) 60 x 40 cm salted beancurd skin (½ sheet) wipe both sides with damp cloth, and cut into 16 pieces each measuring 10 x 15 cm Filling ¾ cup yam (aka taro) diced 5 mm deep-fry over high heat till just cooked, 1-2 minutes ½ cup water chestnuts diced 5 mm 150 g prawns shell, devein, rinse, dry thoroughly with paper towels, and cut pea size 350 g fatty pork mince (mix 250 g lean meat with 100 g lard) 1 tbsp oyster sauce 1 tbsp Shao Xing wine ½ tbsp white sesame oil ¼ tsp ground white pepper 2 tbsp water ½ tsp cornflour ⅔ tsp five-spice powder vegetable oil for deep-frying Instead of small rolls, you can make big ones 4 cm thick and 15 cm long. These would have to be steamed, then deep-fried and cut bite size. Cooked twice, biggies wouldn't be as juicy as small ngoh hiang deep-fried without steaming. Prepare beancurd sheet as detailed above. Set aside. Prepare yam, water chestnuts and prawns as detailed above. Thoroughly mix all ingredients for filling except prawns. Stir, in one direction only, till mixture is sticky, about 5 minutes. Add prawns and mix through. Place 1 beancurd sheet vertically on a plate. Spread bottom end with 30 g (1½ tbsp) filling, up to 1 cm from edges. Roll upward tightly without folding in the sides. Set aside, seam side down. Repeat . . . . With a non-stick pot, deep-fry meat rolls in moderately hot oil over medium to medium-low heat till golden brown and just cooked. Best served hot as finger food, as it is. Only bad ngoh hiang need to be dunked and smothered in sweet dark soya sauce or sweet chilli sauce, to hide the fact that it's bad.

Fried Wontons

Fried wontons are different from wontons in soup, apart from the fact that they're fried.

The filling for boiled wontons should have dried sole (大地鱼, aka 铁脯). The fish is toasted till brown, crisp and fragrant, then chopped into little bits. If it's not available, deep-fried shallots are a good substitute. With either of these ingredients in the filling, wontons cooked in soup would have a rich, intense aroma they wouldn't have otherwise. In Hong Kong, the motherland of Wonton Soup, the stock used is made with dried sole, amongst other things.

Fried wontons, on the the hand, don't need any dried sole or deep-fried shallots because the fragrance from the golden brown wrappers is sufficient.

Boiled wontons may be any size so long as the seams don't burst. Fried wontons, however, have to be quite small. If there's too much filling, the wontons would be brown before the inside is cooked. How much is too much? It depends on the mix of meat – use less if there's more pork, more if there's more prawns, and chicken would be somewhere inbetween. If you like your fried wontons big and meaty, 100% prawns would be the way to go.
 If you hate deep-frying because of the mess it may make, fried wontons would be good news. The wrappers are dry, so the oil doesn't splatter at all. Having your deep-fry and no cleaning is better than having your cake and eating it too!

FRIED WONTONS (炸云吞) (Makes 50 pieces) Filling 150 fatty coarsely minced pork 250 g prawns peel, devein, wash and dice 5 mm 3 water chestnuts peel, wash and dice 3 mm 2 tbsp thinly sliced spring onion 1 tbsp finely minced ginger 1 tbsp oyster sauce 2 tsp Shaoxing wine 2 tsp white sesame oil ½ tsp salt ¼ tsp sugar ¼ tsp ground white pepper 50 wonton wrappers water for sealing wrappers oil for deep-frying To make filling, place all ingredients in a bowl and mix thoroughly. Gather mixture in one hand and throw back into the bowl, hard. Repeat till mixture is sticky, 3-4 minutes. To wrap, please refer to video below but use only 1 rounded tsp filling per wonton. Wrappers may be sealed with beaten egg as in the video, or water. Alternatively, you could put some filling in the middle of the wrapper, dab some egg/water on the edges, fold to form a triangle/rectangle/semi-circle, then press edges to seal. (Click here if you need 12 photos (!) to show you how to make triangular wontons. But I'm assuming you are quite intelligent . . . .) Wonton wrappers brown very easily. Do not use too much filling, oil that's too hot, or fry the wontons when they're chilled. Otherwise, the inside may still be raw when the wrappers are brown. To fry, use moderately hot oil. Test by dipping wonton (or an uncoated wooden chopstick) into the oil. Temperature is just right when oil bubbles softly. If there's rapid bubbling, let oil cool down slightly before testing again. If there's no reaction from the oil, continue heating till bubbling softly. When oil is at right temperature, fry wontons over medium heat till golden brown, about 90 seconds. Drain and serve immediately with garlic or sweet chilli sauce on the side.

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.

Minced Pork Stir-Fry with Ketchup & Fermented Black Beans

Minced pork stir-fried with fermented black beans is one of the standard items served at places that sell Teochew porridge. It's different from other fbb-based recipes because it's got a good amount of tomato ketchup, a decidedly non-Teochew ingredient which, I suspect, my cousins in China don't use. But ketchup actually goes well with fbb's salty fragrance, adding a distinct dimension not found in fbb dishes that are more traditional.

The stir-fried minced pork sold at Teochew muay places usually has a layer of oil coloured red by tomato ketchup, and meat that has a generous amount of fat. The one I make avoids the excessive oil because I don't think it makes the pork taste better. However, I do use pork belly that's quite fatty. I find that pork that's too lean dries out after it's minced and stir-fried. Ideally, the fatty pork belly is minced very roughly, with a cleaver (or two), into tiny pieces the size of rice grains. You can't really see it but each small little piece of lean meat has a bit of fat attached, so it stays succulent and smooth after it's cooked. And it has bite, unlike mushy machine-ground meat.

You might think if you use a lean cut, stir-frying it with lots of oil would make it moist. But it doesn't work that way because the oil stays on the surface of the little lumps of meat. It doesn't get inside, so the lean meat stays dry.

At this point, you might be thinking, I don't eat fatty meat, period. And this is where I could give you a blurb about fats being an essential nutrient for the body (and brain), how fats don't always make you fat, how dietary cholesterol doesn't clog up your arteries, blah blah blah. *yawn* But I'm not gonna do that. Instead, I'd ask you to imagine what your tombstone will say. (What a cheerful thought!) Will it be 'She Did Not Eat Fatty Pork Belly'?

My guiding principle is, if it's not important enough to be on my tombstone, then it's not terribly important. That's why I eat pork belly, fat and all, without blinking an eye. And I don't wash intimate apparel by hand. But I always give my cats a head rub when they ask for one because their tombstones will say, 'She Had All the Head Rubs She Wanted'.

MINCED PORK STIR-FRY WITH KETCHUP & FERMENTED BLACK BEANS Source: My mother (Recipe for 4 persons) 2 tbsp fermented black beans 6 tbsp tomato ketchup 1½ tbsp vegetable oil 1 tbsp minced ginger 1 tbsp minced garlic 1 tsp thinly sliced spring onions (white part) 2 bird's eye chillies, or to taste, wash, trim and chop roughly 300 g fatty pork belly, mince roughly, by hand if possible 1 tbsp Shaoxing wine 1 tsp sugar 2 tsp diced spring onions (green part) Soak fermented black beans in 2 tbsp water for 5 minutes. Drain, mix the liquid with ketchup, and chop beans roughly. In a just smoking wok, heat vegetable oil till very hot. Add ginger and stir-fry over high heat till lightly golden. Add fermented black beans, garlic, chillies and spring onions (white part). Stir-fry till fragrant. Add minced pork and stir-fry till wok is hot again, jabbing to break up meat into small pieces. Drizzle with wine and stir through. Drizzle with ketchup mixture. Stir till absorbed. Drizzle with 2 tbsp water. Stir through. Add sugar and another 2 tbsp water. Stir a few minutes till sauce is reduced. There should be just enough to keep the meat nicely moist. If not eating within 10 minutes, leave sauce a bit thin because it thickens slightly as it sits. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Turn off heat. Sprinkle with spring onions (green part). Plate and serve with steamed rice or plain Teochew porridge.

Pork Stir-Fry with Sesame Oil

I stir-fry pork with sesame oil; so did my mother, my mother's mother, my mother's mother's mother . . . . I'm guessing that since sesame oil was invented discovered in China, which was supposedly some 2,300 years ago during the Three Kingdoms period, Chinese have been cooking pork in it one way or another. 

The version I make is with garlic, ginger, light soya sauce, oyster sauce, Shaoxing wine and salt. I've done it so many times I can practically do it with my eyes closed.

At various points in my life when I lived on instant noodles, the classic stir-fry was a long-term resident in my fridge. When I was hungry, all I had to do was boil some noodles, chuck some of the pork in the pot, add a few green leaves, and lunch/dinner/midnight snack/morning-after-pick-me-up was ready, and served in the pot). I ate enough to last a lifetime, which is why I don't stir-fry pork with sesame oil nowadays . . . except once in a blue, blue moon. It may be a bit same old same old, but I still treasure an occasional visit from the familiar friend – for old times' sake, you know?

A classic is a classic for good reason . . . . Oh look, there's a queue for my pork stir-fry! That must mean it's good!

"Ok, ok, don't rush; there's plenty for everyone. Hey, Baldie, don't you dare jump the queue!"

PORK STIR-FRY WITH SESAME OIL (Recipe for 4 persons) 300 g pork (shoulder butt, or tenderloin if you're a tenderloin person) . . . wash, drain and cut bite size across the grain about 2 mm thick Marinade 1 tbsp light soya sauce ½ tsp dark soya sauce 1 tbsp oyster sauce ½ tbsp Shaoxing wine ¼ tsp salt 2 tbsp water 1 tsp white sesame oil ½ tbsp cornflour 1 tbsp white sesame oil ⅓ cup julienned ginger 3 cloves garlic, peel and mince roughly 1 tbsp Shaoxing wine 3 tbsp water ¼ tsp black sesame oil, or white if not available Mix pork with light and dark soya sauce, oyster sauce, wine, salt and 2 tbsp water till absorbed. Drizzle with 1 tsp white sesame oil and mix through. Leave to marinate 15 minutes or longer. Sprinkle with cornflour and mix through. In a just smoking wok, heat 1 tbsp white sesame oil till very hot. Add ginger and stir-fry over high heat till lightly golden. Add garlic and stir-fry, also till lightly golden. Add pork, minus marinade if any. Stir fry till pork is almost cooked. Drizzle with 1 tbsp wine and remaining marinade if any. Stir through. Drizzle with 2 tbsp water. Stir to deglaze wok. Drizzle with another 2 tbsp water. Bring to a gentle simmer. Pork should now be just cooked. There should be just enough sauce for the pork to sit in and stay nicely moist. Add a bit more water or simmer gently to reduce as necessary. Do not overcook or pork would be tough. Taste and quickly adjust seasoning if necessary. Turn off heat. Drizzle with sesame oil. Plate and serve hot or at room temperature with steamed rice or plain Teochew porridge. Also good as topping for noodles in soup.

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.

Marmite Ribs

I'd intended to buy a jar of Marmite to make Marmite Pork Ribs only after I finished some of the sauces and whatnots (which were threatening to spill out of the kitchen into the living room). But my self-discipline crumbled when I saw what a great sense of humour the makers of Marmite have, as the commercial shows. Love it or hate it? I'd never had Marmite before, and I couldn't wait to find out. dldl dldld dldl ldl dldld

I wandered up and down the aisles in the supermart looking for Marmite. I knew it had to be there somewhere because I had phoned earlier and made sure the supermart had stocks. It wasn't with the jams and spreads, nor sauces and condiments. Hmm, yeast extract . . . . Yeast? Baking products? Nope, not there either. Where else could it be? You'd never had guessed! Marmite, together with its best friend, Bovril, was sitting next to the cough syrups, plasters and ENO. Why? God only knows!

The best description of Marmite I've come across is from Reginald Hunter who said, during a Stephen Fry show, 'Marmite tastes like there's a naked man with hairy legs in your kitchen, and every now and again you take a plate with some toast, and walk onto his butt and go “Ok friend, do what you do best!”'

Was there any truth in what Reginald Hunter says? Umm . . . I wouldn't know. I've never had anything of what he described in my kitchen.

Does Marmite taste like, as a Steve Johnson article put it, 'faecal-brown . . . sludge of processed fungal industrial waste'? Hmm, not sure what those taste like either.

After reading the nasty insults about Marmite, I was a bit apprehensive about eating it, to be honest. I dipped the tip of a chopstick into the jar, and took a little lick of the black, gooey stuff, neat. Hmm . . . . It was rather like reduced fish sauce, which I'd made once by mistake when trying a Thai recipe. Both tasted kinda burnt and bitter, and were extremely salty – pretty nasty, in other words.

Marmite neat wasn't for me. Next, I tried the most popular way of enjoying Marmite: a wee bit of the yeast extract spread t-h-i-n-l-y on generously buttered toast. I took a small bite and . . . . Hey, it's not bad! The salt in the yeast extract went well with the butter, I thought. In fact, spaghetti tossed with Marmite and butter is delicious, if you believe the Domestic Goddess. It's better than bak chor mee, she (sort of) says in the video here.

The grand finale and highlight of my tasting session was pork with Marmite. The thick, meaty prime ribs braised with Marmite, sugar, honey, ketchup and Worcestershire sauce could be summed up in one alphabet: Mmmmm . . . . The sugar and honey masked the burnt, bitter taste of Marmite, leaving a sweet and savory sauce that was a perfect fit with tender, juicy ribs falling off the bone. If everyone ate Marmite this way, I'm sure there wouldn't be any Marmite hate groups!

And now, I'm ready for the gourmet version:

Marmite XO, anyone? . . . . lit tl lk dlkdl dlkdl dlkd dldkl lkdj dldk l

MARMITE PORK RIBS (Recipe for 4 persons) 500 g pork ribs chopped 3-4 cm long, wash and drain 2 tbsp Marmite 1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce 1 tbsp tomato ketchup 2 tbsp sugar 2 tbsp honey Put all ingredients in a pot, with ribs in a single layer if possible. Add enough water to almost cover ribs. Bring to a boil. Cover and simmer gently till meat is just tender, about 1 hour, topping up with more water if necessary so that sauce covers at least half of ribs all the time. Next, increase heat to medium-low, leave pot uncovered, and reduce sauce till sticky, stirring from time to time to ensure even heating and prevent the sides from burning. This should take 15-20 minutes depending on the amount of liquid. When sauce is just short of ready, skim and discard excess oil. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Turn off heat. Give ribs a few last turns to coat evenly with thickened sauce. Plate and serve. You might not believe it but when the sauce has the right consistency, it tastes a little chocolatey.

Steamed Garlic Pork Ribs

Let's see . . . I've done pork ribs with orange, coffee, red yeast wine dregs, fermented black beans, teriyaki sauce, and pickled plums. That's quite a lot already but here's one more: Steamed Garlic Pork Ribs. Yup, tonnes and tonnes of garlic; heaps of garlic; garlic galore!

Compared to the other recipes, steamed garlic pork ribs is really simple, using garlic as its flavouring agent.

Hmm, a bit too simple, perhaps?

Nope, don't worry. As Leonardo da Vinci said, "Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." Don't underestimate the plant that sprouted from Satan's left foot as he was evicted by his landlord.


If you love garlic, Steamed Garlic Pork Ribs would be right up your alley. The ribs are marinated with raw and fried garlic and then steamed. The moist heat mellows the two types of garlic and, when the meat is almost falling off the bones and the cooking is done, more fried garlic is added. This time, it stays crisp and fully aromatic, making it taste quite different from the fried garlic that's been steamed. To round off the dish, a few drops of the oil from frying the garlic is drizzled on the ribs, reinforcing the aroma of the crispy garlic.

The layering effect creates a complexity that belies the use of only one flavouring agent. Isn't that simple yet sophisticated, incorporating one ingredient in four different ways?

The ingredients for steaming ribs with garlic are really simple. It requires no skill at all, and takes no more than a few minutes to put together. So go on and give it a try. You'll see the beauty of garlic, and why it's been a cooking ingredient for over 6,000 years . . . . Unless you're a vampire? Hey, I should send Buffy the recipe!

STEAMED GARLIC PORK RIBS (蒜香蒸排骨) Source: Adapted from All About Pork Ribs (Recipe for 4 persons) 400 g pork ribs, rinsed, dried, and chopped into small pieces 2½ cm (1 inch) long 2 packed tbsp fried minced garlic 2 packed tbsp raw garlic ⅛ tsp chicken powder ½ tsp salt ¼ tsp sugar ½ tbsp potato flour Garnish ½ packed tbsp fried minced garlic ½ tbsp roughly chopped coriander ½ red chilli, slice thinly crosswise ½ tsp oil from frying garlic In a deep plate, thoroughly mix everything except potato flour and garnish ingredients. Marinate for 30 minutes. Sprinkle with potato flour and mix till evenly coated. Steam ribs over rapidly boiling water till tender, about 1 hour. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Sprinkle with garnish ingredients. Serve.