Fried Spring Rolls (Video #135)

Regular readers of this blog would know I made my first cooking video last week. So why is this video #135 instead of #2? Heh . . . heh . . . heh . . . . Because I'm following a Chinese custom.

In the old days far, far away in China, an abundance of male heirs to carry on the family name was considered good fortune. So much so that if someone had only one or two sons – which was tantamount to a tragedy – he'd say he had 11 or 12. IOW, it was how many he actually had, plus 10. Hence, the eldest son became #11, and the second son #12. Note that the creative accounting applied to sons only. It was perfectly alright to have only one daughter, or even none at all.

Since we're inflating the numbers – COOKING the books! – why stop at 10, right? OTOH, if I said I've made 34,347,595 videos, no one would believe me. So I'm going for something that's impressive but within reason. I reckon 135 sounds good.

Jokes aside, here are a few tips for making fried spring rolls (not that you need any, or that spring rolls are difficult to make):

 When buying turnip, pick the smaller ones. These tend to be younger and, hence, sweeter and less fibrous starchy than the big ones. They're also easier to peel and cut if you have small hands like me.

If you're using a grater, make sure it's razor-sharp. Otherwise, the turnip will be mushy.

 You don't need a lot of oil to stir-fry turnip because it's sweet and crunchy, not bitter or fibrous.

The filling should be crunchy. Don't overcook the turnip.

Drain the filling well before wrapping. If it's too wet, the spring roll pastry will tear.

Use the maximum heat possible for stir-frying the filling. If the wok isn't hot enough, the juices from the turnip won't evaporate and will have to be drained off. That'll be a waste of the flavour.

 To keep spring rolls for frying the next day, put them in the fridge, uncovered on a wire rack, so that water doesn't condense on or underneath the pastry. Or you could do the wrapping just before frying.

You might be tempted to embellish the filling with dried mushrooms, fresh prawns or fried beancurd. But it's really not necessary if the turnip is cooked with good quality dried prawns, and a good amount of sugar and ground white pepper. That's my mother's recipe, btw.

Frozen spring roll pastry comes in various sizes. The Goldilocks size – not too big; not too small – is 19 x 19 cm (7½ x 7½ inches).

You don't have to make spring rolls with the filling. It's delicious eaten with rice or porridge, or you can use it to make soon kueh.

POPIAH (SPRING ROLLS; 薄饼/春卷) (Recipe for 20 pieces) 40 g dried prawns (⅓ cup) wash and soak in 2 tbsp hot water till soft, about 15 minutes; squeeze dry, reserving the water; chop roughly 1 kg turnip (aka 沙葛, jicama and yam bean) wash and peel, leaving about 900 g; cut matchstick size 120 g carrot cut matchstick size wash and peel, leaving about 100 g; cut matchstick size 3 big cloves garlic peel and mince finely vegetable oil for stir- and deep-frying 2 tbsp light soya sauce 4 tsp sugar ¾ tsp ground white pepper 19 x 19 cm frozen spring roll pastry thaw to room temperature; separate 20 pieces and cover till ready to wrap; refreeze unused pastry Prepare dried prawns, turnip, carrot and garlic as detailed above. In a very hot wok, heat 2 tbsp oil till just smoking. Add dried prawns and fry over maximum heat till lightly golden. Add garlic and fry till nicely golden brown. Add turnip and carrots. Stir-fry till heated through. Add light soya sauce and sugar. Mix thoroughly. Drizzle with water used to soak dried prawns. Stir-fry till evaporated. Turnip should now be cooked but still crunchy. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary, then sprinkle with ground white pepper Mix through and turn off heat. Push everything to one side of wok to drain off sauce. When cool, transfer filling to a bowl, minus sauce. To wrap, spread out pastry in a diamond shape. With a Chinese soup spoon, place 1 heaped tablespoonful filling (40-50 g) near bottom corner. Fold bottom corner upwards, then left and right corners. Roll upwards tightly. Set aside, seam side down. Repeat with remaining pastry. Heat oil in a wok till just smoking. Deep-fry spring rolls over medium heat till golden brown. Drain. Serve immediately.

Pickled Green Papaya

The world is divided into two parts: those who love pickles, and those who hate pickles. ....... . . . .. ... . . ... . . .... . .. . . . . . .

If you're a pickle lover, you'd be drooling over this crunchy, sour and spicy pickled green papaya. If you're pickle hater, no amount of persuasion would make you make crunchy, sour and spicy pickled green papaya. Hence, no persuasion is necessary. .......  . . . .. ... . . ... . . .... . .. . . . . . .

PICKLED GREEN PAPAYA (Recipe for 1 kg) 300 g sugar (1½ cups) 300 g white vinegar (1¼ cups) 1.15 kg firm, unripe papaya, with green skin that has a hint of yellow peel, halve, remove seeds and trim head to yield 1 kg 2 tbsp salt 3 bird's eye chillies, rinse and slice thinly After cutting the papaya, you may find that it's too ripe for pickling, and too green for eating. In which case, please proceed to plan B: Buah Paya Masak Titek. Please note that pots, bowls and jars used should be non-reactive. Heat and stir sugar with vinegar until dissolved. Leave till cool. Rinse papaya thoroughly. Slice crosswise as thinly as possible, with a mandolin if available. Sprinkle with salt and mix thoroughly. Leave till limb and soft, about 10 minutes depending on the thickness. Rinse and drain. Mix with vinegar mixture and chillies. Cover and refrigerate. Papaya may be served after turning translucent. This may take 12 hours if papaya is paper thin and not too green. If totally green and not-so-thin, you'll have to wait 1-2 days. Adjust seasoning after papaya is ready for eating, if necessary, then wait at least 3-4 hours before serving.

Soon Kueh/Turnip Dumplings (I)

Success at last at making the dough for soon kueh! It was my seventh attempt and sixth recipe. How's that for perseverance? As I kneaded the dough, I felt quite sure that this time it would work. And it did, beautifully. Mind you, I had spring roll wrappers standing by in case the dough failed again.

What was wrong with the five recipes that didn't work?

The one from Chan Chen Hei, ex-chef of Hai Tien Lo, failed outright because it had way too much water. What the recipe made was a batter, not dough.

The Best of Singapore Cooking gave me a dough that cracked even before it was steamed. The ingredients – rice flour, tapioca starch, water, salt and oil – were similar to the recipe I succeeded with. But the water added to the dry ingredients was hot instead of boiling.

I also tried the recipe in Cooking for the President. The dough I got, using rice and tapioca starch cooked on the stove, was simply too wet and soft to be shaped or rolled. I think there was way too much water and oil.

And then there was a Taiwanese recipe which used glutinous rice flour mixed with a bit of plain flour. That one wasn't too bad if eaten hot but it hardened badly when it was cold.

And then there was cornercafe's recipe for 'crystal pastry' which used tapioca starch, wheat starch, oil, salt and boiling water. What I got was a very bouncy dough that squelched (!) when it was kneaded, somewhat like what The Best of Singapore Cooking gave me although the ingredients and methods were substantially different between the two. The squelching was rather scary. I threw the dough away before it became alive and attacked me.

The successful recipe I tried was from Rose's Kitchen. The dough was not bouncy, not too soft and, most importantly, it didn't fart squelch. The minute I started kneading, it just felt right. Search mission accomplished.

30 July 2012 Update

SOON KUEH (笋粿; TURNIP DUMPLINGS) (Recipe for 32 pieces) Dough (adapted from Rose's Kitchen) 300 g rice flour 100 g tapioca starch plus ¼ cup for adjusting and dusting 1 tsp salt 600 ml water, boiling 2 tbsp vegetable oil Filling 2½ tbsp vegetable oil 40 g dried prawns rinse and soak in 2 tbsp water till soft, about 15 minutes; squeeze dry, reserving the water; chop roughly 4 cloves garlic, peel and chop roughly 40 g dried mushrooms break off stalks and reserve for other dishes; rinse caps and soak in ¼ cup water till soft, about 30 minutes; squeeze dry, reserving the water; slice thinly 1.1 kg "local" turnip (aka 沙葛, bangkuang, yam bean and jicama) wash, peel and cut matchstick size to yield 1 kg; if grating, make sure grater doesn't turn turnip mushy 2 tbsp sugar 3 tbsp light soya sauce ¾ tsp ground white pepper Finishing touch 1 tbsp shallot or vegetable oil 30 July 2012 Update Click here for my step-by-step video. Strictly speaking, the recipe is for bangkuang kueh rather than soon kueh since the filling is made with bangkuang instead of soon (bamboo shoots). To make dough, mix rice flour, tapioca starch and salt thoroughly. Pour boiling water evenly over mixture. Immediately stir till well mixed and cool enough to handle but still extremely hot. Drizzle with vegetable oil. Knead till evenly mixed to make a smooth, sticky dough. Continue kneading, dusting with tapioca starch till dough is no longer sticky (like glue) but still quite tacky (like Post-it paper). Cover and let dough rest 10 minutes or up to a few hours. To make filling, heat vegetable oil in a wok till just smoking. Over high heat, stir-fry dried prawns till lightly golden. Add garlic and stir-fry till translucent. Add dried mushrooms and stir-fry till everything is nicely golden brown. Add turnip and continue stirring till thoroughly heated and wok is very hot again. Add light soya sauce and sugar. Stir till LSS is absorbed. Add water drained from dried prawns and dried mushrooms, which should be no more than 2 tbsp or so. Stir-fry till turnip is wilted but still crunchy. Sprinkle with ground white pepper. Stir through. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Turn off heat. Push turnip to side of wok to drain. If turnip is very wet, drain in a colander. Leave till cold. Transfer to a bowl. To wrap, dust worktop lightly with tapioca starch. Knead and roll dough into a log shape, dusting with tapioca starch if too sticky. Cut into 32 pieces of equal size, 30-32 g each. Keeping dough not being worked on covered, roll each piece into a ball, dusting with tapioca starch as necessary. Flatten into a disc with dough scraper, then roll into a 11-cm circle about 2 mm thick. If your dough looks more like an amoeba than a full moon, use a 11-cm rice bowl or cutter to cut a perfect circle. Using chopsticks, place 30-32 g filling (1 heaped Chinese soup spoon) on the dough, in the middle. Fold bottom half of dough upward, bringing edges together. Press to seal, from the middle to the corners. Set aside, covered, and repeat from "roll each piece into a ball . . . ." Turnip filling in bottom of bowl would be rather wet. Drain as appropriate. To steam, brush perforated tray with oil, or line with parchment paper. Place soon kueh on the tray spaced 1 cm apart. Steam over rapidly boiling water till slightly puffed, about 10 minutes. Brush lightly with oil. Transfer to an oiled plate, spaced apart whilst cooling down. If desired, pan-fry just before eating. To serve, drizzle soon kueh with sweet dark soya sauce and/or chilli sauce. Leftovers should be refrigerated, then steamed or pan-fried till thoroughly heated through before eating.

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.

Sayur Lodeh

It was Cook a Pot of Curry Day yesterday because, to cut a long story short, some mainland Chinese with a delicate nose had asked his Singaporean Indian to stop cooking curry. Indignant Singaporeans protested in unison when they heard the story. How dare they tell us not to cook curry! It was a wonderful excuse to tell the mainland Chinese where to shove it, all in the name of protecting the national identity. Before long, Curry Day was organized via Facebook.

There are curries, and there are curries. If it had been a Malay, Nyonya or local Chinese cooking curry next to the mainland Chinese, there probably would have been no dispute. But Indian curries are different when they're not adapted to suit the tastes of the Singaporean Chinese. They have a pungence that's far more powerful than Malay, Nyonya or Chinese-style curries. Chinese Singaporeans call it 'the Indian smell'. For those who don't mince their words, 'smell' may be replaced with 'stink' or 'pong'

I don't know for sure but I suspect the Indian neighbour in the dispute was cooking the original, unaltered version of Indian curry that smelt really good or bad, depending on the race of the nose.

Singaporeans love their curries. But, for those who aren't Indians, most of them simply do not eat true blue Indian curries which have 'the Indian smell' – the kind of curry that Indians cook at home. How much do the local Chinese hate the smell? So much that they wouldn't rent their properties to Indians for fear that the curry pong would not only linger on sofas and curtains, but even penetrate deep inside concrete walls! Gross exaggeration, you think? Hey, the Indian neighbour in the story cooked with his windows closed, but that didn't stop his curries from being offensive!

Would everyone have jumped to the Indian neighbour's defence if he had been a foreigner? Or if the Chinese involved were from Singapore, not China? I doubt it, at least not in such great numbers.

Singaporeans may proudly declare their love for curries and chide the mainland Chinese for not adapting to Singaporean ways. But the unspoken truth is that the bulk of the population, the Chinese Singaporeans, dislike authentic Indian curries as much as the mainland Chinese. The 'Indian' curry fish head they love is actually not very Indian. They might be busy cooking and sharing curries on Curry Day, but chances are very few cooked the type of curry that had upset the mainland Chinese. Hypocrisy, much?

What was my Sayur Lodeh like? Mild and totally harmless, 'cause I followed my mother's Chinese style recipe. There was absolutely nothing Indian about it.

SAYUR LODEH (VEGETABLE CURRY) Source: My mother (Recipe for 6-8 persons) Curry paste 10 dried chillies (10 g), cut into small pieces with scissors, soak in warm water till soft, about . . . 30 minutes, squeeze dry, and discard water 120 g shallots (20 pieces) 50 g garlic (8 cloves) 10 g tumeric (½ thumb size) 20 g ginger (thumb size) 15 g galangal (¾ thumb size) 60 g red chillies (3 pieces) 10 g candlenuts (4 pieces) 4 kaffir lime leaves, remove veins 15 g belachan (1 tbsp), toast till your neighbours smell it 4 tbsp vegetable oil 1 large lemongrass, soft part only, wash and crush 25 g dried prawns (3 tbsp) 550 g cabbage (from Malaysia, not China), trim, cut chunky, slicing thick veins in the middle, . . . wash, and drain 150 g long beans, wash, trim, devein, and cut 7 cm long 2 tbsp light soya sauce 6 pieces tau pok (beancurd puffs), cut each piece into 2 1 medium size carrot (150 g), peel, wash, and roll-cut chunky 4 sprigs curry leaves, rinse 330 ml undiluted coconut milk 1 medium size eggplant (250 g), wash, trim and roll-cut chunky salt to taste, about ½ tsp The mix of main ingredients may be changed to suit your preference. Besides those listed above, other popular choices include fried beancurd, beancurd skin (deep-fried or soaked in hot water till soft), and mang kuang (yam bean). Wash, peel and chop ingredients for curry paste as appropriate. Grind or pound till fine. In a just smoking wok, heat vegetable oil till just smoking. Stir-fry lemongrass and dried prawns over medium heat till fragrant. Add curry paste and stir-fry till fragrant, drizzling with 1 tbsp water at a time when it scorches. (The oil doesn't separate because there isn't much.) When curry paste smells good, add cabbage and long beans. Stir-fry till heated through and wok is hot again. Drizzle with light soya and stir till absorbed. Add enough water to cover half of vegetables. Scrape wok to deglaze. Push cabbage and long beans aside and place tau pok in the middle. Tuck carrots and curry leaves here and there, then add ⅔ of coconut milk. Top up with more water to just cover everything. Cover, bring to a boil, and reduce heat to low. Simmer gently till cabbage is half tender, about 20 minutes. Push veggies aside and place eggplant in the middle. Add more water if necessary so that there's just enough liquid for veggies and tau pok to sit in. Repeat simmering as before till eggplant and cabbage are tender, 15-20 minutes. Liquid should now cover about 80% of veggies. Adjust if necessary by adding more water or increasing heat to boil rapidly, uncovered. Add salt to taste, about ½ tsp. Drizzle with remaining coconut milk. Stir gently to mix in. Bring to a gentle simmer and turn off heat. Sayur Lodeh may be served immediately. Alternatively, let flavours develop for 45-60 minutes, then serve at room temperature or reheated.

Sambal Kangkong

Do you know that there's a connection between kangkong and the God of Fortune, aka 财神爷?

I'm guessing you don't, so here's the story:

3,000 years ago, China was ruled by an emperor who knew diddly squat about everything. As with all useless emperors, he had a wicked concubine, and his was called 妲己.

One day, 妲己 pretended to be ill and said she needed to eat 比干's heart to be cured. 比干 was the good guy who was trying to set the useless emperor on the right path, so the concubine – actually a 'fox spirit' in human form – wanted to get rid of him.

Fortunately for 比干, one of his colleagues cast a spell on him so that he could live after his heart was dug out. There were, however, conditions: Upon losing his heart, 比干 had to leave the city on a galloping horse till he was at least 2,000 miles away, without looking back.

The bad news was, the evil concubine/fox heard about the spell, and transformed herself into an old woman selling kangkong. 'Kangkong! Kangkong!' she shouted . . . . Oops, sorry, she didn't speak Malay. It should be '空心菜! 空心菜!'

Upon hearing her cries, 比干 turned around to ask her what 空心菜 was. As he did, he fell from his horse and died 'cause the spell was broken.

What's all this got to do with the God of (Good) Fortune? Well, the stupid guy who couldn't follow simple instructions was deified as said god after he died. Why? Because he was heartless, so he couldn't favour anyone and would always be fair. That, I suppose, outweighed his inability to focus and not get distracted!

I guess 比干 didn't learn from Lot's wife, who looked back and turned into a pillar of salt. Or Orpheus, who looked back and his wife disappeared into thin air – poof! Good thing he didn't or he wouldn't have the dream job he has now, working only 15 days each year during the CNY period – very cushy!

SAMBAL KANGKONG (WATER SPINACH IN CHILLI PASTE) (Recipe for 2 persons) 250 g kangkong (water spinach) Sambal 3 dried chillies, soaked in warm water till soft, about 1 hour, drain and discard water 1 tbsp dried prawns, soaked in 1 tbsp water till soft, about ½ hour 1 red chilli 2 cili padi (bird's eye chilli) 3 shallots 1 clove garlic ½ tsp belachan, toasted till fragrant 2 tbsp vegetable oil ½ tsp salt ¼ tsp sugar The key to good stir-fried kangkong is a stonking hot wok. If too much is cooked in one go, the wok won't be hot enough. Hence, the recipe is for 250 g kangkong, which is only 150 g or so after trimming off the roots. That's enough for 2 portions, I think. If you need to make a lot, I'd suggest stir-frying the sambal in one go, then the kangkong in batches. Trim and discard roots of kangkong. Wash, then break thicker stems by pressing with fingers. Chop into 8-cm (3-inch) pieces. Set aside to drain. Wash, peel and roughly chop sambal ingredients as appropriate. Drain dried prawns, setting aside the water. Blend or pound everything into a fine paste. Have a taste and add more cili padi if you like. In a stonking hot wok, stir-fry sambal in vegetable oil over high heat till fragrant. Add salt and sugar. Stir through. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Add kangkong and stir-fry till just wilted, 30 seconds or so, drizzling with the water for soaking dried prawns towards the end. Taste again and adjust seasoning if necessary. Plate and serve immediately.

Stuffed Tau Pok

Working out the recipe for Chinese rojak didn't seem like work since it didn't involve any cooking. In fact, stirring and tasting was my kind of entertainment. Once I figured out how it was done, I wolfed down a huge bowl of fruits and vegetables. That was my '5 a day' as per doctor's orders, in one shot.

I then made a bucketload of the sauce, and kept some chopped up fruits and veggies in the fridge. When I felt like having rojak, all it took was 30 seconds. Rojak had never been so good and quick.

The readymade supply didn't last long and soon, I had to whip up another batch. This time, oh boy, it seemed like a lot of work!

Making the tamarind water was a real pain 'cause it was too thick for the strainer, so I had to pick out the seeds one by one . . . by one . . . . I counted up to 127, then started chanting, "Om . . . ."

Meanwhile, the peanuts were roasting away. I had to stir them a couple of times so that they browned evenly. And then I had to rub off all the skins. And then I had to toss 'em high in the air outside the window so that the wind blew the skins away. Luckily, the wind direction was cooperative and nothing flew into the house. A round of vacuuming would have made me go "Aaaaargh!" "Om . . . ." again.

Finally, I had to get down to the chopping, slicing, measuring, dragging out the mini chopper to give the peanuts a whirl . . . .

I knew exactly what I had to do, so it was rather boring. I need something new!

Since I was, ahem, a veteran rojak maker (with a grand total of two weeks' experience), making a sauce for stuffed tau pok seemed like the natural progression. I made basically the same sauce as for Chinese rojak but added lime juice, kecap manis, and a thin instead of thick tamarind juice. I also added some palm sugar, which made the sweetness more nuanced. Mmmmm . . . . It was nice. Eaten with tau pok stuffed full of cucumber and blanched bean sprouts, the combination was surprisingly different from Chinese rojak. It was lighter and tasted of veggies, in a good way.

I think I'm done with rojak anything for a while. Oooh, what's that coming out of my ears?

STUFFED TAU POK WITH ROJAK SAUCE (Recipe for 4 persons) Sauce – makes about 1½ cups 60 g palm sugar (4 tbsp), mince and steamed till dissolved 2 tbsp sugar 60 g tamarind (4 tbsp; Orchid brand), mix with 90 ml hot water, drain and discard seeds 1½ tbsp chilli powder, or to taste 90 g fermented prawn paste (Two Boys brand) 1½ tbsp rojak flower (aka torch ginger bud) ½ cup peanuts (80 g), toast, rub off skin, and chop/pound roughly juice and finely minced peel of 1 calamansi lime 2 tbsp kecap manis (ABC brand) 8 pieces tau pok (豆卜, beancurd puffs) 100 g bean sprouts, blanch briefly, drain, and dry with paper towels 100 g cucumber, cut matchstick size, and dry with paper towels 2 pairs you zha kueh (aka Chinese crullers, 油条), separate each pair into two pieces The sauce is similar to the one for Chinese rojak but it's less thick since it's a dip. And it's got a more rounded sweetness from palm sugar, kecap manis and lime juice. Besides you zha kueh and stuffed tau pok, it's also a great dip for tart fruits like green mangoes. Mix all ingredients for sauce. Taste and adjust if necessary. Set aside. Mix cucumber and bean sprouts. Slit one side of beancurd puff in the middle to make a pocket. Stuff with bean sprouts and cucumber. Place tau pok on a rack if not grilling immediately so that excess water from the bean sprouts and cucumber drains away. Stuffed tau pok should be eaten the day they're made while the veggies are still crisp. Grill tau pok and dough fritters till crisp. Cut tau pok into 2 or 4 pieces, and you zha kueh into 5. Serve immediately with sauce on the side. Why not make some Chinese rojak as well? Click here for the recipe.

Chinese Rojak

Once in a while, I go on a binge eating session at a hawker centre to indulge in the "fun stuff". It's a low-carb pig-out so that there's as much variety as possible. Everything is, on its own, not very filling but when they're eaten together in one sitting, leave my friends and I barely able to move. A typical session may see us digging into barbecued stingray, barbecued crabs, stir-fried clams, fish soup, oyster omelette, chendol, ice-kacang and ngoh hiang. Anything else . . . ? Oh yes, we mustn't forget our fibre, so we'd have a plate of fruits and veggies in the most fun way possible – rojak!

I was busy stirring bowl after bowl after bowl of rojak sauce last weekend, trying to find one that I liked. The first mistake I made was with the tamarind water. I followed the rojak recipe in The Best of Singapore Cooking, mixing a walnut size blob of assam with 80 ml of water. That totally spoilt the sauce/dressing 'cause it was way too watery. I had to reduce the amount of water, and leave out the lime juice in the recipe, before I finally got a thick and sticky consistency.

Nailed it? Not yet, not so fast. The sauce turned watery again after I mixed it with fruits. The culprit this time was the (rather) expensive 'crystal' pineapple I had bought. It was really juicy and ideal for eating straight, but not for making rojak. The colour of the sauce wasn't right either. It should be almost black or very dark brown, but mine was more like a medium brown. Also, the fermented prawn paste didn't taste right, in a I-can't-put-my-finger-on-it-but-it's-not-quite-right kind of way.


I was into my third bowl of rojak sauce – making, not eating – and on a roll. Off I trotted to a minimart to look for a different brand of fermented prawn paste. 'This is the one rojak hawkers use!' the friendly shopkeeper assured me, holding up a red and blue plastic tub that said 'TWO BOYS BRAND'. 'Really ah?' I took his word for it, and also picked up a cheap, green and hopefully not so juicy pineapple.

On the fourth attempt, I finally nailed it with the help of the two new ingredients. The sauce tasted quite similar to the (famous) rojak in Balestier – hey, the one Chow Yun Fat goes to! It was a lighter version though, with less sugar and prawn paste – the way I liked it. If you prefer a richer sauce, just add more of both and peanuts, and provide for more sauce. And don't forget to toast the dough fritters and beancurd puffs till they're really crispy. That's the whole point of making rojak, to have you zha kueh and tau pok that go c-r-u-n-c-h! Plus, I can have as much green mango and jambu as I like! Plus, I don't have to wait – hey, the good places for rojak have electronic queue systems!


Was Chinese rojak invented by the Chinese? I hope so. It's a nice symbol of the old immigrants' assimilation into life in the 'South Ocean' with the use of ingredients from China and Southeast Asia. Even the name 'rojak', which means mix, is so apt. Do the 'new immigrants' know that, I wonder . . . .

CHINESE ROJAK (Recipe for 6 persons) 150 g mang kuang (local turnip; yam bean; jicama; 沙葛) 150 g cucumber 80 g under ripe pineapple 80 g green mango 100 g jambu (rose apples) 1 pair you zha kueh (Chinese dough fritters; 油条), toasted till crisp 4 pieces tau pok (beancurd puffs; 豆卜), toasted till crisp Rojak sauce (dressing) – makes 1 cup 90 g fermented prawn paste (6 tbsp) 60 g tamarind paste (4 tbsp), mixed with 3 tbsp hot water and drained; . . . seeds picked out and discarded (Orchid brand) peel of ½ calamansi lime, finely minced 1 packed tbsp torch ginger bud (aka rojak flower), finely minced 4 tbsp sugar 1 tbsp chilli powder, or to taste ½ cup toasted peanuts (80 g), skinless, and coarsely ground The dressing is sufficient for about 1 kg (8 cups heaped) of ingredients. Besides those listed above, other popular choices include green apples, buah kedongdong, cured jellyfish, cured squid, and blanched bean sprouts and kangkong (water spinach). Choose whatever strikes your fancy. Everything should be peeled, trimmed, washed and thoroughly dried as necessary, then cut bite size, into thin wedges where possible. To make rojak sauce, thoroughly mix all ingredients except peanuts. When sugar is melted, add all of ground peanuts except 2 tbsp and stir till evenly mixed. You should have 1 cup of sticky sauce that's as thick as peanut butter. Taste and adjust if necessary. Toss everything, adding dough fritters and beancurd puffs towards the end so that they don't turn soggy. Plate and sprinkle with remaining peanuts. Serve immediately. Why not make some Stuffed tau pok with rojak sauce as well? Click here for the recipe.