Chai Tow Kway (菜头粿; Fried Carrot Cake)

If you're looking for a good chai tow kway recipe, you've come to the right place. How do I convince you my CTK is good? By comparing to one that's bad, here, from The Little Teochew in a guest post for Rasa Malaysia. 

I've read many recipes for various sorts of steamed cakes made with rice flour, such as chwee kueh, orh kueh, lor bak gou, pak tong gou and, of course, chai tow kway. What's the one common feature they all have? The batter is cooked on the stove before it's steamed. The Little Teochew, unlike everyone else, mixes rice flour with room temperature water, then steams the batter straightaway. Why do the rest of us do extra work? Because unless the batter is thickened before it's steamed, the rice flour would sink and form a hard layer at the bottom of the cake. If you steam rice flour batter without thickening it first, your kway is doomed for failure.

Besides thickening the batter before steaming, recipes for steamed rice cakes have another common feature. What's that? There's a bit of oil in the batter. TLT's recipe, unlike everyone else's, has no oil. An oil-less cake would be gritty, not smooth.

The Little Teochew says,

"Feel free . . . to adjust the proportions of radish, [rice] flour and water.  Unlike baking, there are no hard and fast rules to making [chai tow kway], and a  little more (or less) here and there will not hurt."

A little more or less of water will not hurt? Sorry, that's utter nonsense. For the 200 g of rice flour in her recipe, even a bit more or less of water makes a big difference to the cake's texture. If you've never made steamed rice cake before, imagine it's 200 g of rice you're cooking and it's got the exact texture you like. Now imagine cooking the rice with an additional tablespoonful or two of water. Would the rice be edible? Of course. Would it still be perfect? Of course not. Naturally, what's perfect for you may not be perfect for me. You may use a bit more or less water than me. But you wouldn't want to use a bit more or less water than what would make the perfect rice for you.

Btw, my CTK recipe is adapted from Honey Bee Sweets' chwee kueh recipe, which has none of the a-bit-more-or-less-won't-hurt nonsense. She tells her readers to boil 1,020 ml of water, allow 20 ml for evaporation, and use 1,000 ml to make the batter. The chwee kueh made with her recipe is, I tell ya, as good as the best money can buy.

If you don't change the amount of water and cook the batter before steaming it, could TLT's recipe work? No way. Why? Because her water to flour ratio is wrong. I estimate her recipe has only 2.9 parts water (including the juice released from a craaaazy amount of radish) to 1 part rice flour. In comparison, my orh kueh uses 4.2 parts water to 1 part rice flour even though orh kueh is set a bit firmer than chai tow kway. With a ratio of 2.9, TLT's chai tow kway would be way too hard.

Why do I compare TLT's CTK to my orh kueh instead of CTK? Because my orh kueh, like her CTK, is made with only rice flour. My CTK, in contrast, is made with a mix of rice flour, cornflour and wheat starch. When you use only rice flour, the cake is harder. With a mix of cornflour and wheat starch added, it's softer (all other things being equal). And it's slightly gooey after it's fried. You'll never get the soft gooeyness if you use only rice flour, no matter how much water you add.

Why on earth does TLT steam the radish for 30 minutes? God only knows. I just boil mine. Five minutes is all it takes.

The Little Teochew calls chai tow kway radish cake. Please lah, dat is so anal! Every true blue Singaporean knows chai tow kway is carrot cake in English even though there's no carrot in it. Every true blue Singaporean also knows there's  usually no radish in chai tow kway unless it's homemade. And no true blue Singaporean makes chai tow kway at home except a few crazy ones like yours truly. So what's the point of calling chai tow kway radish cake, right?

The texture of the rice cake depends on not only the balance of flour, starch, water and oil, but also the consistency of the batter after it's cooked on the stove. Thicker batter makes a harder cake, and vice versa, even if the ingredients are exactly the same. You must therefore learn to judge when the thickness of the batter is just right. With my recipe, the kway is very soft but not mushy if the batter is cooked to the right consistency.

To get the frying part right, you need good quality ingredients. How fragrant is the garlic you buy? What about the spring onions, chai poh, eggs, fish sauce and light soya sauce? Your CTK can't possibly be fragrant if the ingredients are substandard. Good quality stuff would need just high heat and sufficient time to brown properly to give you kick-ass CTK.

After steaming your kway to perfection and carefully selecting the best ingredients to fry with, your efforts will go to waste unless you use the right wok. You should use one that's well-seasoned or the kway will turn into mush as you try your damndest to pry it loose.

How do you tell if your wok is well-seasoned? If you need to ask, then it probably isn't! In that case, please do what The Little Teochew recommends. Which is? Use non-stick, of course. I tend to think non-stick is for wimps but I'm sure that's just me. Anyways, did TLT actually make the CTK in her photos? If she did, why is her recipe so bad? Heheheh . . . heh . . . . Maybe she bought the CTK from some hawker centre! Oh well, it's none of my business. I just make CTK my way, for fun.

If you have Singaporean or Malaysian friends/relatives living somewhere where CTK isn't available, please send them this video and tell them to follow my recipe, not the one on Rasa Malaysia's blog:

CHAI TOW KWAY (菜头粿; FRIED CARROT CAKE) Source: adapted from Honey Bee Sweets' chwee kueh recipe (Recipe for 4 portions) Steaming 250 g grated white radish 480 g water 150 g rice flour 12 g cornflour 12 g wheat starch ¾ tsp salt 2 tsp vegetable oil 220 g water Frying 100 ml lard, melted replace with vegetable oil if you're a Muslim, Jew or wimp; if you're Muslim or Jewish but not a wimp, use duck or goose fat 40 g minced chai poh (菜脯; salted radish), Twin Rabbit brand rinse twice; soak 2-3 minutes in enough water to cover; taste and soak longer if too salty; drain  20 g garlic, peel and mince roughly 2 tsp light soya sauce 1 tsp fish sauce sambal (chilli paste) to taste 4 eggs 2 tsp light soya sauce, add to eggs and whisk thoroughly 200 g bean sprouts, rinse and drain thoroughly 40 g spring onions, wash and chop roughly To make steamed kway, place radish in a small pot. Add 480 g water. Weigh pot and contents. Take note of weight. Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce heat to low. Simmer, covered, till radish is soft, about 5 minutes. Turn off heat. Remove cover. Wait till evaporation stops, about 10 minutes. Weigh pot and contents again. Weight should be lower by 100 g. Top up with water or discard excess liquid as necessary. Whilst radish is simmering, assemble rice flour, cornflour, wheat starch, salt, oil and 220 g water in a wok. Stir batter till smooth. When radish is ready, add radish liquid. Cook over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, till batter is creamy. Add cooked radish. Continue cooking and stirring, reducing heat to low as batter thickens, till batter is thick but not thick enough to hold its shape. Pour batter into 18 x 5 cm round cake pan. Level and smooth top. If you have difficulty smoothing the batter, that means it's too thick and your kway will be hard. If the top is smooth without human assistance, the batter is too thin and your kway will be mushy. Steam batter over rapidly bubbling water till cooked, i.e. inserted skewer comes out almost clean. This takes about 40 minutes. Remove cake from steamer. Leave till cool. Refrigerate overnight. Cut into bite-sized pieces. To fry kway, heat well-seasoned wok till very hot. Place 1/3 of lard in the wok. Heat till just smoking, swirling so that lard coats bottom of wok. Add steamed kway. Spread in a single layer. Fry over high heat till lightly golden. Turn over. Drizzle with a little lard. Fry till second side is also lightly golden, stirring to check if it is. Add chai poh and garlic. Drizzle with more lard. Stir to mix thoroughly. Drizzle with 2 tsp light soya sauce and 1 tsp fish sauce. Stir thoroughly. Alternate frying and stirring till kway is nicely brown and aroma of chai poh is released, drizzling with more lard when wok looks dry. Add eggs, followed by yet more lard. Turn over when bottom of eggs is golden brown,  pressing lightly with spatula after flipping to help eggs stick to kway. Fry till golden brown again. Add sambal. (If you prefer black CTK, add sweet sauce now, about 1 tbsp per portion.) Stir till thoroughly mixed. Add bean sprouts, then more lard. Stir till bean sprouts are heated through but not wilted. Add spring onions, leaving aside 1 tbsp or so. Stir through. Quickly taste and, if necessary, adjust seasoning with pinch of sugar if too salty or a few drops of fish sauce if too bland. Plate, sprinkle with remaining spring onions and serve immediately.

How to Make GOOD Fried Rice

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

15-Minute Flower Crab Dry Curry

If you like crab but can't stomach the idea of being a crab killer, flower crab would be right up your alley. The blue crustaceans are mostly sold dead; live ones caught by local kelongs are available only once in a blue, blue moon, when you're extremely lucky. Or maybe unlucky if you're not into buying food that's still moving.

The taste of flower crab is quite different from that of the ubiquitous mud crab. Because flower crabs live in the sea, the meat tastes cleaner and sweeter than their muddy cousins which live in river estuaries. There's also a difference in texture. Flower crab is smooth, delicate and moist whereas mud crab, if it's big, can be quite coarse, overly firm and a bit dry. Both types of crab are the same though when they're not fresh – mushy and gross!

Do I prefer mud or flower crab? Hmm . . . they're different, as different as, say, mud crab and prawns. I like 'em both but if I really had to choose, I'd say fresh, good quality flower crab is actually nicer than live mud crab.

Most flower and mud crab recipes are interchangeable, but there're a few that aren't if you're a fusspot like me. Chilli Crab, for instance, should be made with mud crab. Curry powder, on the other hand, goes with flower crab. If flower crab isn't available, I think prawns would make a better substitute than mud crab. Mind you, if you put a plate of mud crab curry in front of me, I'd still eat it and enjoy it. I never say no to crab, and I've never met any crab I don't like so long as it's fresh.

With the help of a pack of readymade curry powder, making Flower Crab Dry Curry takes no more than 15 minutes from start to finish: four minutes to clean and chop four crabs, and three minutes to peel and chop some shallots and garlic, leaving eight minutes to stir-fry. Do you have 15 minutes to make a delicious crab dish? Of course you do! Do you have time to eat it though? Of course you do! What could be better than picking out the meat bit by bit from the nooks and crannies?

Some people like to stop and smell the roses but me, I prefer to stop and eat crab.

FLOWER CRAB DRY CURRY (Recipe for 4 persons) 2½ tbsp vegetable oil 60 g shallots peel, rinse and mince finely 40 g garlic peel and mince roughly 30 g curry powder for chicken (I use Nonya brand) add 3 tbsp water and stir to make a thick paste 4 flower crabs (aka blue crabs) weighing about 1 kg discard abdominal flap; separate shell from body; discard gills, and stomach in shell; rinse thoroughly and drain; twist off pincers and crack slightly with side or back of cleaver; chop and discard last joint of small claws; chop each crab into 4 quarters 40 ml light soya sauce 2 eggs, beaten Heat well-seasoned wok till just smoking. Add vegetable oil and heat till very hot. Add shallots and stir-fry over high heat till translucent. Add garlic and stir-fry till slightly golden. Reduce heat to medium-low. Add curry paste and stir-fry till fragrant, drizzling with 2-3 tsp water at a time if spices stick to wok. Do not add too much water in one go or you'd be simmering instead of frying. If you like, you could fry with more oil instead so that curry paste doesn't stick. Increase heat to high. Add crab. Stir-fry till thoroughly mixed and heated through, again drizzling with 2-3 tsp water at a time to deglaze spices that stick to wok. Drizzle with light soya sauce. Stir till absorbed. Add enough water to cover half of crab, about ⅓ cup. Bring to a boil, stirring to mix well. Reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer 3 minutes. Stir, then cover and simmer another 3 minutes. Crab should be cooked now. To check, pick a piece which has a pinky and ring claw and snip between the two claws with a pair of scissors. Meat is cooked if firm and opaque. Increase heat to medium-high. Stir to mix crab and curry sauce thoroughly. Turn shells upside down, i.e. cavity facing up. Drizzle a bit of curry sauce into shells, and then a bit of egg. Drizzle remaining egg on crab. Let egg set slightly, about 5 seconds. Stir to mix through. Sauce should now be just thick enough to coat crab. Adjust if necessary by adding a bit of water if too dry, or cooking a bit longer if too watery. Taste sauce and adjust seasoning if necessary. Plate and serve. Pssst! I'll let you in on a little secret. The eggy curry sauce is more yummy than the crab!

Nyonya Fried Rice

Fried rice is one of those things. It may be a great chef's finale for a grand Chinese banquet, or it may be something rustled up by a hungry youngster snooping round the kitchen when Mum is out. Brilliantly executed, fried rice is sublime. If not, it's (usually) at least edible.

Baba fried rice is easier than the Chinese version. The latter requires fierce, intense heat for best results (imagine a massive fire breathing dragon underneath the wok). The Straits Chinese, however, use spices to create an alluring aroma. Finely pounded shallots, dried chillies, fresh chillies and candlenuts, along with belachan and dried prawns, are slowly persuaded over gentle heat to release their fragrance. Each and every grain tastes of the spicy, aromatic and umami paste, so the fried rice is delicious even when it's lacking in wok hei.

Leftover rice is great for making fried rice but, contrary to popular opinion, freshly cooked rice is perfectly ok too. All you have to do is use a bit less water than usual, and the cooked rice would be quite dry, as if it's been drying out overnight. If the rice is cooked at a lower temperature, by steaming instead of boiling in an electric rice-cooker, it's even better because the texture would be firmer and more chewy.

I don't wait till I have leftover rice to enjoy a bowl of fried rice. But I always make fried rice when I have some. Resteamed overnight rice isn't very nice, but I hate throwing away leftover rice because I grew up singing: planting rice is never fun, bend from morn till set of sun, cannot stand and cannot sit, cannot rest a little bit . . . .

Planting rice is no longer the back breaking work it used to be. Nonethess, each and every grain is precious. Savour it, fried or otherwise.

NASI GORENG REMPAH (SPICY BELACHAN FRIED RICE) Source: Adapted from Cooking for the President (Recipe for 4 persons) 375 g long grain white rice wash and rinse thoroughly; soak 10 minutes in 340 ml water 45 g dried prawns, rinse 20 g candlenuts, rinse 3 g dried chillies trim stems; cut 2 cm long; soak in warm water till soft, about 30 minutes; squeeze dry and discard water 30 g red chillies, rinse and trim 3 bird's eye chillies, rinse and trim 80 g shallots, peel and rinse 4 tbsp vegetable oil 12 g belachan, toast till fragrant and dry; pound or grind finely to yield 1 tbsp 8 medium size prawns (150 g), shell, devein, wash and dice 1½ cm ¾ tsp salt ¾ tsp ground white pepper 1 large cucumber (450 g), peel, wash, core and dice 4 mm to yield 1½ cups Steam rice over rapidly boiling water for 15 minutes, then check whether rice needs more water. If surface layer is cooked but still hard, this is the ideal texture. Steam another 5 minutes and remove from steamer. If surface layer is not cooked, sprinkle with 1 tbsp water and steam 5 minutes. Repeat if necessary, then remove rice from steamer. When surface layer is cooked and soft, remove rice from steamer immediately. After rice is cooked, fluff and set aside. Whilst rice is steaming, pound dried prawns finely and set aside. Cut candlenuts, dried chillies, fresh chillies and shallots into small pieces. Pound or grind very finely. Stir-fry with 3 tbsp vegetable oil in a wok over medium-low heat till medium brown and aromatic. Add belachan powder and stir through. Push to one side. Place 1 tbsp vegetable oil in the middle of the wok. Reduce heat to low. Stir-fry dried prawns with the oil till aromatic. Increase heat to high. Mix everything in the wok evenly. When wok is very hot, add prawns and stir through. Add rice and stir till thoroughly mixed and hot. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Mix through. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Turn off heat. Add cucumber and stir through. Serve immediately with fried fishcake, fried eggs, achar timun, etc.

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.

Diced Chicken in Spicy Fermented Tofu Sauce

One day, whilst shooting the breeze with me somewhere, an ang moh acquaintance said he had a tattoo. Without any encouragement on my part, he rolled up his sleeve to show me the Chinese word on his arm. He seemed quite proud of it, and I was all prepared to 'Oooh!' appropriately (whilst running my fingers gently over his bulging biceps *wink wink*). Instead, when I saw the word he had chosen, the beer I was drinking took a detour into my lungs and up my nose. My face turned red; I thumped my chest; he thumped my back; it was a while before I could stop coughing. By then, Acquaintance probably suspected there was something wrong with his tattoo 'cause I was laughing and gesturing at it even as I choked on my drink. Indeed, there was, for the word on his arm was "腐".

"腐", for those who don't know, means decay, rot, spoil, or corrupt. Why the hell did he tattoo himself with such a word? Ah . . . . Because Acquaintance had been told the word meant eagle. Or rather, the catalogue that he'd picked the word from said so. But 'eagle' is "鹰", not "腐"! They may look similar, but the two words are worlds apart in meaning. Unfortunately, nobody at the tattoo parlour in London understood Chinese.

Grinning from ear to ear despite my watering eyes, I said, 'You know tofu? This word is the 'fu' part of "tofu".'

'I've got "tofu" tattooed on my arm?!'

'Er, no, it's just "fu", not "tofu".'

'What does "fu" mean?' It was cruel but I had to tell him. 'It doesn't make sense if "fu" means rot, because there's nothing rotten about tofu,' he said.

He had a point. Why is tofu called tofu when the 'to' (beans) aren't "fu" (rotten)?

The question bothered me for years but not anymore. I've just googled and found a plausible explanation, which is this: A long, long time ago, the Chinese called Mongolian cheese furu (腐乳), which meant spoiled milk. And then they started making curd, which resembled cheese, with soya bean milk. Hence, the curd was called tofu (豆腐), meaning spoiled beans. And then they started fermenting tofu, which turned creamy/milky as mould grew on it. So they called the fermented tofu furu, the same name which had been given to Mongolian cheese. This time, the preserved tofu did full justice to the word "腐".

Were Mongolians really making cheese even before Chinese started making beancurd, which was an awfully long time ago in 200-something BC (Han dynasty)? I don't know, but at least I have an answer next time someone asks me to explain the 'fu' part of "tofu".

I never found out whether Mr "腐" removed his tattoo, but I would if I were him. Or maybe put "豆" on the other arm, and tell everyone he loves tofu. If I see him again, I'll invite him to my place and make him some nice tofu dishes, like Spicy Diced Chicken with Fermented Tofu. I'm sure he'd love that. *wink wink*

DICED CHICKEN IN SPICY FERMENTED TOFU SAUCE (香辣腐乳鸡丁) (Recipe for 4 persons) 400 g boneless chicken leg, wash and dice 2 cm Marinade 1½ tbsp white fermented beancurd's pickling liquid ⅓ tsp salt ½ tbsp sugar 1 tbsp Shaoxing wine 1½ tbsp water Stir-fry 1 tbsp white sesame oil 1 piece ginger, half thumb size, peel, wash and slice thinly 3 cloves garlic, peel, wash and slice thinly 3 bird's eye chillies, or adjust to taste, wash, trim and slice diagonally 3 mm thick ½ tbsp spring onions (white part) cut 1 cm long 30 g white fermented beancurd, mash 1 tbsp Shaoxing wine Finishing touch 2 tbsp spring onions (green part) cut 1 cm long ¼ tsp white sesame oil Mix chicken with marinade ingredients till all liquid is absorbed. Marinate for 15 minutes or longer. 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, chillies and spring onions (white part). Stir-fry till garlic is also lightly golden. Add fermented beancurd and stir-fry till fragrant. Add chicken and stir-fry till wok is very hot. Drizzle with wine and stir through. Drizzle with 1 tbsp water and stir through again. Add 2 tbsp water and continue stirring – a few minutes would do – till chicken is just cooked (totally opaque and firm), and sauce is reduced and slightly thickened. Or leave sauce a bit watery if not eating within 10 minutes, because it thickens as it sits. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Turn off heat. Sprinkle with spring onions (green part). Stir through. Sprinkle with ¼ tsp sesame oil. Plate and serve immediately.

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.

Fried Glutinous Rice

I've been eating glutinous rice for about a year now, in place of the non-sticky variety. I steamed some one day 'cause I was out of regular rice, and I haven't looked back since. It's more fragrant than regular rice though the quality does vary from brand to brand. I've tried three so far, and my favourite is Golden Pineapple; the other two being New Moon and Golden Phoenix. I can't say if Golden Pineapple is the best brand in the market, but it's good enough to stop me from looking for something better.

Non-sticky rice can be steamed or boiled but the sticky one can only be steamed. If steamed without the rice sitting in water, it should be soaked for several hours, which was what I did when I was a sticky rice novice. Of course, I didn't always have several hours' foresight into when I wanted to tuck into a bowl of piping hot rice, and hunger made my brain tick.

Hmm . . . instead of making the rice absorb water before cooking it, why not make it absorb water whilst it's being cooked? Hey, we all have to multi-task, even rice!

I added water to unsoaked rice in the steamer and – tadaaa! – I had perfectly cooked sticky rice in 20 minutes. Which I have since cut down to 15 minutes by using a wider, more shallow bowl. So that's all I need now, a quarter of an hour, for sticky rice steamed to perfection. Soaking is not necessary, neither is the special bamboo thingy used by the Thais.

Too much water makes sticky rice less fragrant, less chewy/'Q', and more sticky. The optimal amount is just enough water to cover the rice by about 0.5 cm. And if I have some pandan leaves handy, I cut a few small pieces and tuck 'em around the rice, which should be fluffed five minutes before it's done. And when it is, I have 'Q', fragrant sticky rice that's not very sticky at all. It is, for me, better than even Royal Umbrella's regular rice.

Isn't sticky rice very filling? Nope, not at all when it's au naturel. I cook the same amount whether the rice is sticky or not. But once sticky rice is turned into, say, bak chang, then it's a different story. It's the excessive oil in bak chang that makes you feel stuffed, not the rice. Don't believe me? Try some homemade Fried Glutinous Rice, with just 1⅛ teaspoonfuls of oil per portion. I promise it eats like regular fried rice, but better. Can you see that the rice grains are separate, not clumped together? That's because the rice isn't steamed at all but stir-fried till it's cooked. If you like your rice chewy, Fried Glutinous Rice would be your kind of paradise. Eat and go to heaven! Sorry, that didn't come out right . . . . Um, heavenly fried rice?

FRIED GLUTINOUS RICE (生炒糯米飯) (Recipe for 4 persons) 1½ cups glutinous rice (320 g) soak 3 hours and drain 8 medium size Chinese dried mushrooms (35 g) wash and soak in 120 ml water till soft, 30 minutes or longer; squeeze dry, reserving water; cut into 1-cm dice, reserving stalks for other dishes 3 tbsp dried prawns (20 g) wash and soak in 2 tbsp water till soft, 30 minutes or longer; squeeze dry, reserving water 100 g pork (shoulder butt) wash and cut into 1-cm dice; marinate 15 minutes or longer with 1 tsp each of light soya sauce, Shaoxing wine and egg 2 eggs (use 1 tsp for marinating pork) beat with dash of ground white pepper, pinch of sugar, 1 tsp light soya sauce and 1 tsp Shaoxing wine 1½ tbsp oil from deep-frying shallots, or white sesame oil 2 tbsp Shaoxing wine ¼ tsp salt ½ cup water 1½ tbsp oyster sauce 3 tbsp deep-fried shallots 3 tbsp roughly chopped spring onions ground white pepper to taste ½ tsp toasted white sesame seeds The pork may be replaced with some diced lap cheong. If you're doing that, remember to go easy on the oil, salt and oyster sauce. Prepare glutinous rice, dried mushrooms, dried prawns and pork as detailed above. In a well-seasoned or non-stick wok, make a thin omelette with eggs using ½ tbsp oil. Chop roughly (just jab violently with your spatula when omelette is almost done, as if it's your boss/mother-in-law). Set aside. Add remaining 1 tbsp oil to the wok. Stir-fry dried prawns over high heat till lightly golden. Add mushrooms and stir-fry till fragrant. Add pork and marinade. Stir-fry till wok is very hot. Drizzle with 2 tbsp Shaoxing wine. Stir till absorbed. Sprinkle with salt and stir through. Add rice and stir through again. Drizzle with water used for soaking mushrooms. Stir till absorbed. Drizzle with water used for soaking dried prawns. Repeat stirring as before. Add water 2 tbsp at a time, stir-frying till absorbed after each addition. Rice should be cooked after adding ½ cup water, which should take about 10 minutes. Taste to see if it is. If it isn't or if it's too hard, add more water and stir-fry a few more minutes. Next, add oyster sauce and mix thoroughly. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Turn off heat. Sprinkle with half of omelette, deep-fried shallots, and spring onions. Add a few generous dashes of ground white pepper. Mix through. Plate and sprinkle with sesame seeds, and remaining omelette, shallots and spring onions as garnish. 生炒糯米飯 may be eaten hot or at room temperature. Chew slowly and chew well to appreciate the fragrance!

Gong Bao Frog Legs

Back when I was a little girl and living in a kampong, I would jump with joy whenever it rained at night. Why? Because my father would go frog hunting, and there would be a big pot of frog porridge for supper – Teochew style, of course; none of that sticky Cantonese stuff like in Geylang!

The frogs my father caught were wild and, of course, live. If my memory serves me correctly, he didn't use any bait or special equipment except a torchlight. He basically just reached out and grabbed the ones that were croaking the loudest.

(If you're a frog reading this, remember not to croak too loudly when it rains, and my father is in your neighbourhood. And you should leave this blog post immediately, because you really don't want to read the next bit.)

To slaughter a frog, my father grabbed it firmly around the armpits, then chopped off their heads. This required a bit of skill because he had to leave the head half attached rather than lop it off completely. And do so without hacking off his own hand, of course. Next, he grabbed hold of the head and yanked, tearing out the entire skin and the insides as he pulled all the way down. The body, now headless, naked and emptied, would take a while to stop twitching.

The frogs tasted like chicken, but much, much better. The texture was finer and smoother, and the meat was much sweeter. Mind you that was compared to home-bred and truly organic, free-range chicken that ran around the kampong, not the farmed rubbish sold nowadays.

Have you heard about the zi char stall in Geylang that charges $78 for frog legs? (Click here for the story if you haven't.)

If I could have the frog legs I had when I was a child, I would gladly pay $78 or, what the hell, even $128. But I'm guessing the Geylang frogs are just regular stuff – in other words, intensively farmed and therefore pretty tasteless. I paid $6.90 for three at the supermarket yesterday and, trust me, they weren't worth one cent more. Don't be a sucker!

A belated happy Father's Day to all fathers, especially those who work hard to put frog legs on the table.

GONG BAO FROG LEGS (宫保田鸡) (Recipe for 4 persons) 1 tbsp light soya sauce ½ tsp salt 1 tsp Shaoxing wine 3 frogs (325 g), wash and chop each into 7 pieces 1½ tbsp vegetable oil 1 piece ginger, thumb size, peel, rinse and slice thinly 4 cloves garlic, peel, rinse and slice thinly 4 stalks spring onion, white part only, rinse and cut 2 cm long 15 dried chillies, cut 2 cm long, and discard seeds that fall out 2 tbsp Sichuan peppercorns cili padi (bird's eye chillies) to taste, 2-4 pieces, rinse and halve lengthwise 1 tbsp Shaoxing wine 1 tbsp Chinkiang vinegar (镇江醋), or any mild, black vinegar 1 tbsp sugar 2 tsp potato flour, mix with 2 tbsp water 1 tsp white sesame oil Rub light soya sauce, salt and wine into frogs. Leave to marinade for 30 minutes. Stir-fry ginger in hot oil over high heat till lightly brown. Add garlic and stir till colour changes. Add spring onions, dried chillies, Sichuan peppercorns and cili padi. Stir till fragrant, reducing heat if necessary so that dried chillies and peppercorns don't burn. Add frogs and stir till heated through. Add wine, vinegar, soya sauce and sugar. Stir till absorbed. Add enough water to cover half of meat, about ¼ cup. Continue stirring till legs are cooked, a few minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Add just enough potato flour and water mixture to thicken sauce. Turn off heat and stir through white sesame oil. Plate and serve immediately.