Sambal Stingray (II)

The key to making good sambal stingray is a piece of stingray wing that's fresh and young.

There's nothing more disgusting than stale fish . . . . Ok, there are lots, actually, but you know what I mean. The best fish for eating is one that's still swimming. If that's not available, then at least one that's firm, shiny, and hasn't stopped swimming for too long.

Other than the DOD, the DOB is also crucial because younger fish have smoother, silkier meat. How do you tell if the wing you're buying is young? From the size. Young ones have small, thin fins. And small fins are cut triangular. If you see a thick, rectangular piece, that'd be from an old fish with huge fins.

If you've living somewhere where tropical ingredients aren't available fresh, I have good news for you. The banana leaf for sambal stingray is better frozen. Fresh ones burn easily under the grill but after freezing and thawing, the waxy leaves tolerate much higher temperatures.

Once you've bought the ideal stingray wing, it's time to tackle the sambal. If you've had sambal stingray before, you'd know the chilli paste makes or breaks the dish. How to make a good one? By using the best ingredients and patiently frying the spices over low heat. You also have to adjust the seasoning because the ingredients vary in taste. Not all belachans are equally salty fragrant; some shallots are quite tasteless, others intensely aromatic.

The best sambal stingray is barbecued over charcoal. I skip this part this part, I'm afraid, and turn to electricity. You, I'm sure, would let nothing stand in the way of perfection. Your stingray is juicy and moist inside, slightly charred outside, and full of the smoky aroma of charcoal-grilled fish.

Hmm, I don't think I'm saying anything you don't already know. Well, sambal stingray is pretty straightforward in theory. It's all in the execution, isn't it?

Please click here for the recipe.

Baked Cod

In 1950, New York Times science editor Waldemar Kaempffert wrote an article about what miracles the world might see in 2000. At a time when modems hadn't been invented yet, he predicted that access to The New York Times would be possible 'in your home, in the streets, in the trains and cars that carry you to your work, in the bargain basement of every department store'. Video phone calls, TV via phone lines, and faxes that cost next to nothing were also predicted. As was hair removal cream, though it wasn't foreseen that said cream would become a taboo for men: they'd rather die before they let anyone know they use it!

Some of Waldemar Kaempffert's predictions were spot on but there were others which were way off, like what he said about food and cooking:

'Cooking as an art is only a memory in the minds of old people. A few die-hards still broil a chicken or roast a leg of lamb, but the experts have developed ways of deep-freezing partially baked cuts of meat. Even soup and milk are delivered in the form of frozen bricks. 'In eight seconds a half-grilled frozen steak is thawed; in two minutes more it is ready to serve. It never takes . . . more than half an hour to prepare . . . an elaborate meal of several courses. 'Sawdust and wood pulp are converted into sugary foods. Discarded paper table [paper] “linen” and rayon underwear are bought by chemical factories to be converted into candy.'

Eww, candy made with discarded underwear? I'm sure someone somewhere in China must be doing it!

Not only has cooking not become 'a distant memory', it's celebrated by zillions of websites, food blogs and online forums. Cyberspace is overflowing with recipes, many with step-by-step photos or even videos, and online advice if you have any questions – all for free.

You definitely don't have to be a die-hard to try Sam Leong's 'Baked Cod with Marinated Superior Light Soya Sauce and Honey'. (What a mouthful!) In fact, by the time you say 'Baked Cod blah blah blah', the marinade's done. The fish then sits in the marinade for 15 minutes, and then it sits in the oven for 15 minutes. Cooking from scratch doesn't get easier than this, or better.

Whilst the fish is sitting here and there, you should sit too and enjoy a cold drink. And maybe contemplate what the world might be like 50 years from now? I'm guessing a frozen pre-cooked steak will still taste horrible in 2061.

BAKED COD MARINATED WITH SUPERIOR LIGHT SOYA SAUCE & HONEY Source: Adapted from Sam Leong's A Wok Through Time and the video below (Recipe for 4 persons) Marinade 4 tbsp light soya sauce 4 tbsp water 1 tbsp dark soya sauce 2 tsp sugar 2 tsp Maggi seasoning 400 g black cod, cut into 4 pieces, each 2½-cm (1-inch) thick, rinsed and drained 1 tbsp honey Garnish 2 egg whites pinch of salt dash of ground white pepper 2 tbsp milk I opted out of the egg white garnish but you go right ahead with the whole nine yards, please. Here's the man himself to show you how easy it is: To make marinade, stir ingredients till sugar is dissolved. Add cod and turn to coat evenly. Marinate for 15 minutes, turning over mid-way. To make garnish, beat egg whites with salt, pepper and milk. Bring 1 cup water to a boil. Turn off heat. Add egg whites and stir very gently to form large wisps. Steep till just cooked, 15 seconds or so. Drain and place on a serving plate. To cook fish, bake at 150°C (300°F) for 10 minutes. Lower oven temperature to 100°C (210°F). Continue baking till centre of fish feels firm when pressed, about 5 minutes. Remove from oven and brush with honey. To plate, place fish on egg whites. If you like, top with a sprig or two of coriander and sprinkle plate with some powdered seaweed as in the video. Serve immediately.

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Ayam Panggang (Grilled Chicken)

The hallmark of a good roast chicken is crispy skin, right? Nah, not necessarily. Crispy skin requires hours of air-drying and I can't be bothered most of the time. It's good enough for me if the skin is nicely browned so that there's a 'roasty' aroma.

What? That's good but not very sexy? Ok, let's sex it up a bit.

Lather the tanned chook with lots of sambal that's full of spices and enriched with coconut milk, then stick it back in the oven. As the spicy paste bubbles away merrily in the heat, it caramelizes and forms a crust, transforming the ordinary roast chicken into – tadaa! – Ayam Panggang. How's that?

What? 'Flavour' is only skin deep? Banish the thought! The chicken is marinated with the sambal for a whole day before it's roasted. The meat is infused, right down to the bone, with the fragrance of lemon grass, kaffir lime leaves, galangal, coriander seeds, shallots, belachan, white pepper . . . . Happy now?

Whilst I don't air-dry the chicken for Ayam Panggang, I do dry it in the oven. I roast the bird at a low temperature – 130°C or so – for about 25 minutes. The heat is too low to cook the bird much but it dries out the skin quite well. I then crank up the temperature to 230°C and the skin, already dry, browns nicely in about 15 minutes. Meanwhile, the meat is just cooked and the breast still moist.

To get the ideal combination of brown skin and juicy meat, the roasting time, temperature and size of the chicken are crucial considerations. The type of bird chosen is also important. For Ayam Panggang, I prefer to use a regular chook that's tender and juicy as it is, and doesn't require brining to tenderize and moisturize the meat. A brine would make non-organic chicken too soft, and is better suited for organic birds with drier, firmer meat.

Let's give the chicken a good grilling, shall we?

AYAM PANGGANG Source: Adapted from Mrs Leong Yee Soo's The Best of Singapore Cooking (Recipe for 6 persons) Sambal 10 dried chillies, soaked in warm water till soft, about 1 hour 1 tsp belachan, toasted till fragrant 2 red chillies, seeded ⅓ cup shallots 1½ tbsp galangal 1½ tbsp lemon grass, white part only 4 kaffir lime leaves 2 tsp salt 2 tbsp sugar ¼ tsp ground white pepper ½ tsp dark soya sauce 1 tsp coriander powder 1 tsp lime juice 1 tbsp vegetable oil ⅓ cup coconut milk 1 small chicken, 850 g trimmed and spatchcocked Rinse and trim all ingredients as necessary. Blend everything except chicken and 1 tsp salt till smooth. Pour mixture into a plastic bag. Place chicken in the bag. Move mixture around so that it covers chicken (kind of) evenly. Leave to marinate for 12-24 hours, refrigerated. Remove chicken from the fridge. Scrape marinade into a pot. Place chicken on a rack for about 1 hour to come to room temperature. Whilst chicken is warming up, cook marinade over medium heat, stirring all the time, till thick, fragrant, and colour darkens. Add remaining 1 tsp salt. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Remove from heat to cool down. Preheat oven to 130°C (270°F). Line roasting pan with aluminium foil. Place rack in the pan. Place chicken on the rack, skin side up, legs on the outside. Roast till skin is dry, about 25 minutes. Increase heat to 230°C (450°F). Roast till chicken feels firm, skin is brown, and juices run clear, about 15 minutes. Spread evenly with half of sambal. Turn off bottom heat in the oven. Continue roasting, this time with the chicken breast on the outside, till sambal is bubbling and brown, about 7 minutes. Remove chicken from the oven. When cool enough to handle, chop/carve and serve with remaining sambal as a dip, adding a squeeze of lime juice if you like.

Sambal Stingray (I)

I was in a restaurant somewhere in India. When the waiter came to set my place, a diner sitting nearby said something to him. It was all gibberish to me but I could tell that the tone wasn't too friendly. Next, the waiter trotted off with the banana leaf he had just laid on the table. And then he came trotting back with a stainless steel plate.

What the . . . ? Oi! Gimme back my banana leaf!

But the busybody diner was beaming and looking mighty pleased with himself. What could I say? I guess he meant well, and thought the 'Japanese' woman would prefer a 'proper plate'. I so would not!

I love banana leaves. To me, rice and curry tastes so much better when it's on a banana leaf rather than a steel (yuks!) or even ceramic plate. It's lots more fun, and I feel good using something that's disposable yet traditional and natural. Who says only modern people are lazy? Whoever first thought of using banana leaves as plates must have hated washing up, just like me!

The banana leaf in sambal stingray is the unsung hero. The sambal – always the sambal! – takes all the glory but even a good one would be even better with the banana leaf's subtle smokiness. Isn't the nicely charred leaf a perfect frame for the gleaming, red sambal? Sambal stingray without banana leaf just wouldn't be the same (though it's still better than no sambal stingray at all).



17 September 2012 Update

Here's my video guide for making sambal stingray:

SAMBAL STINGRAY (Recipe for 3-4 persons) Sambal (makes about 1 cup) 150 g shallots 75 g garlic 15 g ginger 40 g lemongrass, tender, non-bitter part only 50 g red chillies 15 g dried chillies trim stems, cut 2 cm long, soak in warm water till soft, about 30 minutes; squeeze dry and discard water 15 g belacan (fermented shrimp paste) roast at 150°C or dry-fry over medium-low heat till dry and crumbly 20 g tamarind paste mash with 2 tbsp hot water, drain and discard seeds and pulp ½ cup vegetable oil 30 g palm sugar, roughly chopped ¼ tsp salt 1 piece stingray wing, 400-500 g rinse and drain; cut a 2-3 slits in thicker end along the grain 1/3 tsp salt 1 piece frozen banana leaf thaw and rinse; trim to fit baking tray Garnish calamansi limes, halved red onion, thinly sliced tomato or pineapple wedges cucumber slices Wash, trim, peel and roughly chop shallots, garlic, ginger, lemongrass and red chillies as appropriate. Grind or pound with dried chillies and belachan till smooth. Stir-fry sambal paste with vegetable oil over medium heat till fragrant and colour darkens, about 15 minutes. Add palm sugar. Stir-fry till dissolved. Add tamarind water and salt. Stir-fry till oil separates. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Remove from heat. Leave till cool. You should have about 1 cup. Use about 1/2 cup for 400-500 g stingray. Remaining 1/2 cup may be stored for a few weeks refrigerated. Preheat grill to 230°C (450°F). Line baking tray with aluminium foil. Lightly brush with vegetable oil. Place stingray on baking tray, white side up. Season lightly with salt, including slits. Grill till 70-80% cooked, about 5 minutes depending on thickness of fish. Spread with sambal, thinly. Grill till top of stingray feels firm when pressed chopsticks, about 5 minutes. Lift stingray from baking tray with a spatula. Place banana leaf in tray. Flip stingray onto banana leaf. Season lightly with salt. Grill till 70-80% cooked, about 7 minutes depending on thickness. Spread with sambal, thickly. Grill till fully cooked and sambal is sizzling and slightly charred, 5 minutes or so. Slide foil, leaf and fish onto serving plate. Pull foil from underneath banana leaf and discard. Garnish and serve immediately.

Roast Chicken

"Spatchcock?" I said, a bit warily. I was talking to the chicken guy at the market, who was asking me how I wanted my chicken cut up. The young chap – a mainland Chinese – didn't understand the word 'spatchcock'. I tried again, this time in my limited Chinese, 'Er, make it look like a butterfly?' He stared at me like I was insane. "Frog? Make it look like a frog?"

Chicken Guy had no time for insane customers talking about butterflies and frogs 'cause he was selling chickens and ducks. It was Sunday morning, his busiest time of the week. The market was heaving. "Cut into two pieces?" he suggested.

"NOOO! NO!" Dang! What is 'spatchcock' in Chinese? I decided to try a less abstract explanation. "Ok, cut out the bone in the back." I pointed at my own backbone as I spoke. Chicken Guy finally understood what I wanted. He lifted his knife and, just as he was swinging into action, I yelled, "DON'T CUT THE FRONT! Only the back!" Chicken Guy jumped visibly, and he gave me a dirty, 'I know' look. Whaaat? It's better to be clear than sorry, right? The surly chap turned to his chopping board again and in two seconds flat, held up a beautifully spatchcocked chicken. "Yes! That's what I want! What do you call a chicken cut like that?"

"I don't know." What? They don't do spatchcocks in China? I bet they don't do smiles either!

Since that little episode at the market, I've learnt how to make chickens look like frogs/butterflies. You know, in case I want one in Russia or Zimbabwe where chicken guys might not understand what I say. Or in Desert Island where there's no chicken guy, presumably. Nothing to it at all! Here's a video:

I've got a few tricks up my sleeve for making sure that roast chickens are juicy and moist: Use spatchcocks, because they cook faster and more evenly than whole chickens. Less time spent in the oven means the birds have less time to dry out. Brine overnight. The chicken is moist with the brine solution it absorbs. It also cooks faster after it's brined. Air dry the chicken before roasting. This helps the skin brown faster and shortens the roasting time. Air drying also helps the meat side brown faster. The crust formed seals in the juices. For this to happen, the chicken has to be roasted on a rack instead of sitting directly on the pan. Prop up the bottom and sides of the chicken with parchment paper balls, so that the top of the bird is as flat as possible. Use the right temperature and roasting time so that the meat is just cooked and the skin is brown and crisp at the same time and in the shortest time possible. For a 1 kg brined, air dried spatchcock, that's 220°C for 35-40 minutes. If the chicken is much bigger, not spatchcocked, not air dried or not brined, the ideal temperature and roasting time would be different. Making a juicy roast chicken is easy. I swear, even the breast meat can be plump and moist! And, despite my long-winded notes, the preparation is all done in about 10 minutes. It's 10 very rewarding minutes once you get it right!

ROAST CHICKEN WITH MIXED HERBS (Recipe for 6 persons) 1 spatchcocked spring chicken (aka Cornish hen or poussin), about 1 kg 1 tbsp mixed dried herb I use a readymade mix of thyme, rosemary, summer savory, basil, oregano and majoram bought from Phoon Huat; when it's a fresh, just opened bottle, I use a bit less 2 tbsp sea salt ½ tsp ground white pepper 3 shallots, finely chopped 1 tbsp unsalted butter In a small pot, mix herbs, salt, pepper and shallots with ½ cup hot water. Cover and steep for 5 minutes. Add 1½ cups room temperature water. Give it a few stirs. Leave till cool. Rinse chicken thoroughly, removing feathers if any. Drain well. Tuck in wings. Trim excess fat around bottom. Place chicken in a plastic bag. Add brine mixture. Tie a tight knot in the bag, or zip it. Place on a plate, skin side down so that cut side forms a cavity (sort of) for the brine. Refrigerate for 12 hours. Remove chicken from brine. If there are clumps of herbs or shallots, scrape them off (a few specks are ok). Hang chicken somewhere with a piece of string so that it can air dry. I usually hang it on the kitchen tap for about 4 hours, and put a table fan set at medium next to it. If chicken can't be hung in a sink, use a pot to catch the drips. Preheat oven to 220°C. Line roasting pan with aluminium foil. Place a rack in the pan. Gently heat butter in a small pot till it stops bubbling. Do not brown. When chicken is dry, brush with melted butter. Place chicken in the roasting pan, cut side up. Roast 25 minutes in the middle of the oven. Flip chicken over. Move pan to top of the oven. Roast till chicken feels firm, juices run clear, and skin is crisp and brown, 10-15 minutes. Remove from oven and cool for 10 minutes before serving.

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