Pear Sweet Soup (银耳雪梨糖水) – Cantonese Health Food

Cantonese sweet soups or 糖水 are usually served as a dessert, but they're not like desserts in any other culture. Everyone regards desserts as an evil temptation that they should avoid as much as possible, except the Cantonese. To them, desserts aren't indulgent or sinful but a necessary health tonic for the body. That's right, desserts are a health food! Isn't that an awesome idea?! Forget the nasty stuff like wheatgrass and flax seeds. Heath food Cantonese style is what you want!

In Hong Kong, there're many restaurants that serve only sweet soups. A lot of these specialty eateries are packed with people even late at night. Do the customers feel guilty when they're tucking into something sweet and yummy, sometimes just before going to bed? Not at all! Why would anyone feel bad about eating health food? If they're feeling listless and tired, a bowl of red bean soup would give 'em an energy boost. Having an acne breakout? Red wouldn't be the right colour. Instead, go for green bean soup which is also good for eczema and lowering cholesterol. Looking for smooth, milky white complexion? That'd be almond milk or steamed custard. Been coughing lately? Sea-coconuts and pears to the rescue. Does black glutinous rice with coconut milk and mangoes sound good? I hear it improves digestion. Worried about hair turning grey? Forget coconuts; black sesame soup would do the trick . . . .

I haven't come across a sweet soup that cures cancer but there's something for just about everything else!

I had two bowls of Pear and Snow Fungus Sweet Soup (银耳雪梨糖水) after dinner. My throat, which been quite dry for a few days, feels ok now. Worked like a charm, and it was a light and refreshing dessert to boot.

Who says you should avoid desserts? When it's a Cantonese sweet soup, you should have a second helping!

PEAR AND SNOW FUNGUS SWEET SOUP (银耳雪梨糖水) (Recipe for 4 persons) 1 piece dried snow fungus (雪耳/银耳), about ½ palm size or 10 g 2 big or 3 medium Chinese or Japanese pears (about 550 g) 1½ tbsp Chinese bitter almonds (北杏), rinsed 1½ tbsp Chinese sweet almonds (南杏), rinsed 10 Chinese dried red dates (红枣), rinsed and pits removed rock sugar to taste, 70 g or so (or light brown sugar if not available) Soak snow fungus in water till soft, about 20 minutes. Trim dirty, tough ends and discard. Rinse thoroughly and tear into bite size pieces. Rinse, peel, core and quarter pears. Cut each quarter into 3-4 chunky pieces. Put all ingredients except rock sugar in a pot with 6 cups water. Bring to a boil. Simmer gently, covered. Check after 45 minutes. There should be enough water for ingredients to just float freely. Top up if necessary. Or increase heat slightly if there's too much. Simmer another 15 minutes if you like snow fungus crunchy, or 30 minutes if you prefer it soft. Season to taste with rock sugar. If you like, discard pears which would be quite tasteless after the long simmer. Serve hot, chilled or at room temperature, as dessert, afternoon tea or supper. It's up to you. May be stored in the fridge for 2 days.

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Lemon Tarts

When life gives you lemons, make lemon tarts. They're much better than lemonade! And if you don't have free lemons from life, go buy some. Lemon tarts are worth it!

I gave one of my lemon tarts to a friend once. As I watched him eat, waiting for some compliments, he said, 'It's sour.' I was quite happy, thinking that he liked it, then I realized he meant the opposite. Duh? I'm proud of my lemon tarts precisely because they're sour . . . or rather tart, which sounds much nicer. There's about half a lemon in each small tart!

Why have lemon anything if you can't taste the lemon? I find the lemon tarts sold in Singapore way too sweet and not at all tart or lemony. In other words, wimps! Now France is where they know how to make a proper tarte au citron. There, in just about every patisserie, you can find silky smooth sunshine yellow tarts that give you a lemon high and make your eyes spring wide open with a 'Ding!' Or maybe 'Ooh la la!'

The best thing about homemade lemon tarts is the homemade lemon curd. Lemon curd eaten on the day it's made has a tartness that's really refreshing. After resting in the fridge for a night, the tartness mellows, and the curd becomes less sharp and more rounded. I like it both ways. Either is miles better and fresher than store bought ones made god knows how many moons ago.

Today's recipe might look rather lengthy but I swear making lemon tarts doesn't take long. 15 minutes to get the tart shells in the oven (no resting needed) and whilst they're baking, another 15 minutes to make the curd. If you can't wait, cool the curd in an ice bath for 5 minutes. Another 5 minutes to assemble, garnish and unmould. 40 minutes, tops. Great use of 40 minutes, I think. One warning though: these tarts are really tart. As my friend said, they're lemon tarts for lemon fiends!

LEMON TARTS (Recipe for 4 tarts 10 cm wide) Pastry (this is also sufficient for one 23-cm tart) 90 g unsalted butter 1 tbsp vegetable oil 3 tbsp water 1 tbsp sugar ⅛ tsp salt 150 g plain flour (1 slightly rounded cup) Lemon curd (scale up by 50% for one 23-cm tart) 50 g unsalted butter* 100 g sugar (½ cup) 105 g lemon juice (7 tbsp) from 2-3 lemons, or less if you're not a lemon fiend 2 eggs, chalazea (white bits attached to egg yolks) removed with chopsticks ½ tsp corn flour 1 tsp grated lemon zest Garnish (optional) 4 thin slices lemon, 4 pinches lemon zest (curls or grated), or gold flakes (if money is no object) * I like to use Petit Normand (available at Phoon Huat). It's quite useless for baking and spreading 'cause it's tasteless. But the tastelessness is great for lemon curd. President is too rich (might be ok if the amount used is reduced but I haven't tried); Anchor, Kerrygold and SCS somehow give the curd an acrid taste. To make tart shells, preheat oven to 210°C (410°F). Put all ingredients except flour in a pot. Over medium heat, stir till colour darkens around the edges, about 5 minutes. Turn off heat. Tip flour into pot. Stir till thoroughly mixed. When cool enough to handle, divide dough between tart moulds with removable bottoms, using about 60 g per mould. Reserve a small piece for patching up cracks after baking. Pat and press dough to form a thin, even layer. Bake till golden brown, about 10 minutes. Remove from oven and patch up cracks if any. Flatten some reserved dough as much as possible between fingers. Press gently over holes for a few seconds once tarts are removed from oven. It would be hot but tolerable. To make lemon curd, heat butter, sugar and lemon juice in a non-reactive pot till melted. Slowly add mixture to eggs whilst stirring eggs with a spatula. Add cornflour and lemon zest. Stir till evenly mixed. Put mixture in pot. Heat using lowest setting possible, holding pot so that only half is on the stove. Keep scraping sides and bottom whilst stirring. If eggs start curdling, remove pot from stove. Keep stirring/scraping. Heat again after cooling down a bit. Curd is ready when it coats spatula, about 10 minutes. Taste and adjust with a bit of sugar or lemon juice if necessary. Remove from stove. Continue stirring to dissipate residual heat, 2-3 minutes. To assemble, divide lemon curd between pastry shells. Level and smooth top. Decorate with lemon zest, lemon slices or gold flakes (if life had given you strawberries instead of lemons). Cover (to prevent skin from forming) till curd is fully set, 10-15 minutes. Unmould and serve. Or keep chilled and covered in the fridge till ready. When unmoulding, bottom of tart must always rest on a flat surface. Do not attempt to hold unmoulded tart in your hands. It would just crumble to bits – like mine. To store, keep assembled tarts chilled for up to 2 days. Beyond that, curd may weep and soften pastry. Filling and shells may be kept separately and assembled just before serving. However, curd would have set so there wouldn't be a 'mirror effect' unless it's glazed.

Poached Spinach with Salted and Century Eggs

There're a couple of vegetables I refer to as Chinese spinach, and yin choi (苋菜) is one of them. I think the proper name is Amaranth or, more specifically, Amaranthus dubius. But please don't take my word for it 'cause I'm not very good with plant names. I just eat them . . . the plants, not the names. Oh yes, eating is my forte!



I love yin choi because the texture is smooth when I cook it with minimal oil, unlike other dark green veggies which can be gritty. It goes very well with dried anchovies, and yin choi in dried anchovy stock – with maybe some fishballs or pork meatballs – makes a quick, delicious soup. Or it can be stir fried with dried anchovies that have been fried till crispy. That's also quite nice.



When I'm tired of pairing yin choi with dried anchovies, I use a mix of century and salted eggs. And the veggies are poached, a nice change from soups and stir fries. I love the dish 'cause it's fresh tasting and there's hardly any oil. I first had it in Chinese restaurants and after ordering it several times, I decided to hack the recipe. I thought it should be an easy dish to make at home, and I was right. It's just poaching a few leaves. How difficult can that be? Sometimes, I use yin choi; other times, I use kow kei (枸杞, aka boxthorn and matrimony vine) like the restaurant version. Nothing to it at all.



Have I stopped ordering poached spinach in restaurants after poaching the recipe? Nope, 'cause I really like the dish. Besides, we should always eat lots of veggies whether we're eating in or out, right?



Recent posts:

Buddha's Delight (罗汉 斋, 什菜)	Spicy Poached Pears	Durian with Sticky Rice	Roasted Cauliflower

CHINESE SPINACH WITH SALTED AND CENTURY EGGS (苋菜金银蛋) (Recipe for 4 persons) 1 cooked salted egg, peeled and diced 1 cooked century egg, peeled and diced 350 g Chinese spinach (yin choi, 苋菜) ½ tsp salt 1 tsp oil 1 cup robust chicken stock 2½ tsp light soya sauce Remove roots from yin choi. Wash thoroughly and drain. Cut into pieces 7-8 cm (3 inches) long. If stems seem old and woody, don't use a knife. Break into pieces by hand, tearing off some of the peel as you do so. This helps make the stems more tender. Blanch spinach briefly in boiling water with salt and oil. Drain and gently simmer in chicken stock, covered, till just soft and still quite green, 3-4 minutes. Add or reduce stock as necessary. There should be enough to cover 30-40% of the spinach. Drizzle with light soya sauce. Stir gently to mix well. Remove spinach to a plate, minus stock. Or skip this step if you prefer everything all jumbled together. Add salted and century eggs to the pot (or whatever you're using). Bring back to a boil. Simmer for 30 seconds, with a few gentle stirs. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Transfer everything to a plate, or pour eggs and stock over spinach removed earlier. Serve immediately.

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15-Minute Dry Chicken Curry

15 minutes is all it takes to make dry chicken curry. ... . . .... . . . ....... . . . . . .. .. ... . . ... . . . . . . ... . .. . . .... . .. . . . . . .

5 minutes to chop some chicken, garlic, shallots and ginger; ....... . . . . . .. .. ... . . ... . . . . . . ... . .. . . .... . .. . . . . . .

5 minutes to stir-fry; ... .. . .. .......... ........ ........... ............ ............. . ....... . . . . . .. .. ... . . ... . . . . . . ... . .. . . .... . .. . . . . . ..

5 minutes to simmer, and it's done......... .................................................. ....... . . . . . .. .. ... . . ... . . . . . . ... . .. . . .... . .. . . . . . ..

DRY CHICKEN CURRY (Recipe for 4 persons) 1 tbsp vegetable oil 10 g finely minced ginger (1 tbsp packed) 4 finely minced shallots (2 tbsp packed) 5 cloves finely minced garlic (3 tbsp packed) 60 g curry powder (4 tbsp), mixed with 4 tbsp water to form a paste (I use Nonya brand) 2 large chicken legs (600 g bone-in), chopped chunky, bite size 2½ tbsp light soya sauce In a wok, non-stick if possible, stir-fry ginger and shallots in hot oil over medium heat till lightly golden. Add garlic and stir-fry till lightly golden as well. Add curry powder and stir-fry till fragrant, drizzling with a bit of water when it's too dry, 1 tsp at a time, just enough to prevent everything from clumping up completely. Or, if you prefer, you can add a bit more oil. Spread/smear the paste whilst stirring. If it starts to smoke, lower the heat. Keep stirring and don't stop till you can smell an intense aroma. When curry powder is aromatic, crank up the heat to high. Wait a few seconds for the wok to heat up. Add chicken. Stir till evenly coated, adding water if it gets too dry, 1 tbsp at a time. Drizzle with light soya sauce. Stir till absorbed. Add enough water to cover half of chicken. Scrape to deglaze. Bring to a boil. Cover and simmer gently for 5 minutes, stirring once half way through. Uncover and increase heat to high. Stir and reduce sauce till chicken is thickly coated. Taste. Adjust seasoning if necessary. Serve hot with rice or bread.

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Pork Maw Soup

There're two schools of thought when it comes to cleaning the pig's stomach. You could use an acidic cleaning agent, such as lemon, lime, vinegar or even coke. This is the quicker and easier method, and one that my mother always sniffed at because the acid is usually too strong. It removes not only the yucky smell but also the good, making the maw rather tasteless. She always used the physical method which is somewhat like a . . . sort of facial, with exfoliation and a peel-off mask!

My mother's method has lots of coarse salt rubbed on the maw which is turned inside out. That's the exfoliation. Next comes the deep cleansing. The maw is dusted generously with corn flour which, unlike other masks, requires no waiting time at all. It's peeled off immediately, using a method that you should never try on your face. The maw is seared, briefly and without oil, so that the flour and all the nasty stuff it's mixed with is stuck to the wok/pot. Isn't that brilliant?! In a matter of minutes, the slime is all gone and the maw clean and ready to cook.

When it comes to eating offal – or "spare parts", as I like to call the "nasty bits" – there're also two schools of thought: those who don't and those who do. Obviously, I belong to the latter group and I'm damn proud of it. I grew up eating not just the pig's stomach but also intestines, blood, heart, spleen, liver, tongue, kidneys and brain. No lungs though because that was too much work, even for my mother. I also love the 'odds and ends' on the outside, like the ears (crunchy) and snout (spongy)!

Some people think offal is eaten by those who are poverty stricken, or uncivilized, or both. Unless it's foie gras, of course, then it's a different story. Besides the famed goose liver, the French eat an awful lot of offal, such as andouillette (pig colon sausage), boudin (pig blood sausage), tête de veau (calf's head) and duck gizzard salad. In fact, you can buy chicken gizzards in little plastic tubs in French supermarkets, clean and ready to cook. And at the Sunday market in the Marais, you can find rows of pig snout displayed proudly. I tell ya, that was an awesome sight that warmed my heart! If anyone knows about food, it must be the French. If they think offal is cool, it can't possibly be awful, right?

I had watched my mother clean pork maw lots of times but never did it myself until today. It wasn't as tedious or yucky as I had thought. Now that I know it's a 10-minute job, I'm gonna make pork maw soup more often. I heart pork maw soup. Om nom nom nom . . . .

PORK MAW SOUP (Recipe for 4 persons) 1 pork maw 3 tbsp coarse salt 3 tbsp corn flour 4 tbsp white peppercorns, or to taste 1 big chicken breast (about 500 g), cut into 8 pieces, blanched in boiling water, then rinsed light soya sauce to taste, ½ tsp (not much needed if stock is robust) ground white pepper to taste, a few dashes 1 tbsp roughly chopped coriander Make a cut 7-8 cm (3 inches) long in bottom end of maw. Turn maw inside out through the cut. Make sure creases in top end are completely turned out. Rinse thoroughly under running water. Drain. Sprinkle with salt all over, about 2 tbsp. Rub thoroughly. Rinse well under running water. Drain. Sprinkle with corn flour all over, about 3 tbsp. Make sure maw is completely covered. Sear over medium heat without oil, in a wok/pot that's not non-stick, till flour sticks to the wok/pot, or sticks to the maw and is cooked/hardened. This takes maybe ½ minute each side. Remove and rinse under running water. There may be stubborn bits of flour that stick to the maw. Scrape 'em off with a scissor blade. Rinse again. Maw should now be completely free from slime. Rub 1 tbsp salt all over. Rinse and drain. If you want a more peppery soup, crush peppercorns and toast till fragrant. Otherwise, leave 'em whole and untoasted. Gently simmer maw, peppercorns and chicken in 4 cups water, covered. Maw is done when it's tender, about 1 hour 20 minutes. Snip off a small bit and have a taste. When ready, remove maw to cool down. Check if there's enough soup, about 3 cups for 4 servings. You should if your pot is tightly covered. If not, top up with more water and simmer for another 10 minutes. Remove chicken to cool down. When cool enough to handle, cut maw on the slant into thin, bite size slices. Tear chicken into shreds. Cover till ready to serve. To serve, bring soup and shredded chicken to a boil. Simmer for a few minutes to moisten chicken. Season with light soya sauce and ground white pepper to taste. Place maw in serving bowls. Add soup and chicken. Garnish with coriander. Serve piping hot with some light soya sauce or sambal on the side.

Buddha's Delight (罗汉斋)

It was my mother's birthday a few days ago. To commemorate her, I made a big pot of Buddha's delight (罗汉斋) or, if you prefer the less elegant name, chap chai (什菜). It was a dish she always made for our first breakfast of the Chinese New Year.

Since Mum passed away, my eldest brother has taken over the duty of feeding some 20 people on CNY morning. And it has to be vegetarian, as it always was when Mum was still around. Whilst everyone else is still snoozing, Big Brother is up at 7 am making chap chai, vegetarian bee hoon, stir fried kai lan (Chinese broccoli), and Cheng Tng (清汤). I wish I could do it but it's a great honour reserved for the first-born male heir of the clan. The girls and younger ones don't have such a privilege – sob! They have to pay their respects to the first-born son – a slap on the back plus 'Happy New Year!' – then sit down to a home cooked breakfast. Oh, sob sob sob!

My brother's chap chai is the low-fat version because, like a lot of people, he thinks fat is evil. But cabbage without enough fat is nasty. You don't want to see a layer of oil floating on the surface but if you don't see any oil at all, you might as well just boil the cabbage. What I like to see is a few globules which, to me, represents the perfect balance – not too much; not too little.

Every year during the breakfast gathering at my brother's place, I feel like crying, "What have you done to Mum's chap chai?!" But of course, I keep my big mouth shut. He might say, "Fine! You're so smart, we'll go to your place for Chinese New Year breakfast!" Oh no, I can't make breakfast for 20 people! The best I can do is jot down how Mum made chap chai:

Cabbage – use flat ones from Malaysia, not Indonesia. And not the round ones from China either.

Oil – not too much; not too little.

Dried mushrooms – use lots, the best possible from Japan, stir-fried till fragrant.

Lily buds – knotted tightly and stir-fried separately so that they absorb some oil and light soya sauce.

Sweet beancurd skin – burns easily; use low heat when deep-frying.

Hair moss (发菜) – a couple of small clumps for good luck.

Cooking time – braise cabbage till soft but not mushy.

Quite easy, isn't it? Seems like nothing to it at all but somehow, Mom's version was really good. It was everyone's delight.

BUDDHA'S DELIGHT (罗汉斋; CHAP CHAI; 什菜) (Recipe for 8 persons) 35 g Chinese dried mushrooms (10 pieces) 35 g dried lily buds (a small bunch) 50 g glass noodles (冬粉 or 粉丝), soaked till al dente 7 pieces sweet beancurd skin, each cut into 4 pieces, and deep-fried in warm oil till . . .darkened and 'blistery' 3 tbsp vegetable oil 80 ml light soya sauce (1/3 cup) 500 g cabbage, washed and cut chunky 2 small clumps hair moss (发菜), optional, soaked till soft Soak mushrooms in water till soft, about 30 minutes. Drain and squeeze dry, reserving liquid. Cut bite size. Soak lily buds till soft, 30-45 minutes. Drain and discard liquid. Rinse thoroughly and squeeze dry. Trim and discard hard ends. Tie each piece into a knot, tightly (or they'll loosen when tossed around). Stir-fry over high heat with ½ tbsp vegetable oil and 2 tsp of the light soya sauce. Set aside. Stir-fry mushrooms till fragrant with remaining oil over high heat. Add cabbage and stir-fry till wilted and wok is hot again. Add remaining light soya sauce. Stir till absorbed. Add lily buds, sweet (or savory) beancurd skin, and liquid drained from mushrooms. Top up with water to almost cover everything. Stir to mix well. Bring to a boil. Cover and simmer gently till cabbage is soft but not mushy, about 45 minutes, stirring and topping up with more water mid-way if necessary. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Add hair moss, if using, and glass noodles. Add more water if necessary – glass noodles absorb a lot of liquid – so that it's not too dry. Stir through. Taste again and adjust seasoning if necessary. Serve piping hot with rice or porridge. Reheated leftovers are really good too.

Noodles with Red Wine Dregs (红糟面线)

A few weeks ago, I made some chicken with red wine dregs (红糟鸡). As I was writing about how effective red yeast rice extract was in lowering cholesterol, I looked at the photos I had taken. And I started to get worried. The red yeast stuff looked so . . . red!

Maybe there's something wrong with photos?

I went to the fridge and looked at the real wine dregs. Nope, there was nothing wrong with the photos. The dregs were really that shade of fire engine red. I rubbed my tummy, feeling rather uneasy.

Yikes! It must be Sudan Red!

Sudan Red, a carcinogenic industrial chemical dye, is found in a lot of red colored food products.

Remember the salted eggs recall a few years back?

That was because of Sudan Red, which was used to make the yolks redder and more appealing to consumers. Other common products that might contain Sudan Red are tomato sauce, saffron and chilli powder. In fact, anything that has chillies is highly suspect. And because these sauces and spices are used to make other products, Sudan Red could be found in anything from pies to sausages, salad dressing, pasta sauces, pasta and stews. In 2005, the UK had its biggest food recall ever involving over 600 products contaminated with Sudan Red (story here).

I could have thrown away the gaudy, red paste from China but I really liked the chicken cooked with it. Anyways, innocent till proven guilty, right? I decided to give the wine dregs a chance before I sent it to the gallows/bin. I emailed the AVA – Agri-Food & Veterinary Authority, which is in charge of food safety in Singapore – and asked them to check if there was Sudan Red or other food colouring in the wine dregs I had bought.

I guess you can tell from the recipe I'm sharing today that it's good news from the AVA. Despite the artificial looking hue of red, the wine dregs have no added colouring at all, permitted or prohibited.

Phew! It's safe!

The AVA responded with the test results in two weeks which was quite efficient, I thought. And all I had to do was send them an email saying blah blah blah. Not bad at all.



Naturally, I should reward myself after all the 'hard work' done for the investigation. What could be more appropriate than noodles and pork ribs floating in a sea of natural red?

I was happily slurping my noodles when I saw something in the box they came in. It was a piece of paper provided by the manufacturer to separate the two layers of noodles in the box, and it said . . . 'Soon Fat'.

Aaaah! So that's why I'm putting on weight!

NOODLES WITH RED WINE DREGS (红糟面线) (Recipe for 4 persons) 3 tsp vegetable or white sesame oil 12 thin slices ginger (12 g or so) 6 tbsp red wine dregs (90 g) (红糟 or 'fermented rice residue') 600 g pork ribs chopped about 5 cm (2 inches) long, washed and drained 6 tbsp Shaoxing wine (or red glutinous rice wine, which is the wine used traditionally, . . .if you have some) 3 tbsp light soya sauce ½ tsp salt 4½ tbsp sugar 150 g xiao bai cai (小白菜, aka bok choy) 8 bundles mee sua (面线), or 250 g dried noodles such as bee hoon or ramen, . . .cooked according to package instructions Heat wok till very hot. Add oil and heat till just smoking. Add ginger and stir-fry over medium heat till lightly golden. Add wine dregs and stir-fry till fragrant and colour darkens. Increase heat to high. Give wok a few seconds to heat up. Add ribs and stir-fry till heated through and wok is stonking hot again. Add 2 tbsp wine. Stir till absorbed. Add other seasoning. Stir till absorbed again. Add rest of wine, and enough water to just cover ribs. Stir to deglaze wok. Bring to a boil. Cover and simmer on low heat for 45 minutes. Top up with more water if necesssary. Have a taste when sauce is thickened. Adjust seasoning if necessary. If it doesn't taste right, you probably need more sugar. Top with more water to just covering ribs again. Cover and simmer gently till meat is tender and sauce is thickened, 30-45 minutes depending on how soft you like it. Remember to check that water doesn't boil dry and top up as needed. Skim off oil if necessary. When ribs are ready, bring 6 cups water to a boil in a pot big enough to hold the noodles and vegetables as well. Add ¾ of ribs' sauce. Taste and add more sauce if necessary. You probably need most of it. Add more light soya sauce and sugar if necessary but it probably isn't. Add vegetables. Bring to a gentle boil. Add cooked noodles and bring back to a gentle boil. Turn off heat. Plate and top with ribs. Serve. Some brands of mee sua are very salty even after blanching in hot water. If that's the case, remember to use less sauce when assembling noodles. Mee sua overcooks easily, and it absorbs a lot of liquid as it sits. Take care it's not overcooked; make sure there's sufficient stock; and serve immediately. Slurp up the noodles pronto; don't wait.