Prawns make me happy. Nope, it's not because I'm a glutton, which I am. Nor is it because I love prawns, which I do. It's because prawns are chock-a-block full of vitamin B12, iron, tryptophan, vitamin D, protein and omega 3 fatty acids, which are all essential for keeping depression at bay. There's a physiological connection between food and mood . . . .Hey, no wonder diets make me miserable!
What about the cholesterol? Prawns are full of nutrients but they're packed with cholesterol too. Three medium size prawns, 100 g or so, have about as much cholesterol as an egg yolk. Prawns are bad for you, right?
Tonnes of people believe they should limit the amount of cholesterol they eat, or face an early death from a heart attack or stroke. Everyone knows that, from doctors to the media, nutritionists, your friends, your mother, your dog, and your dog's fleas which suck only low cholesterol blood . . . . Everyone? Not quite. There's a small group of cholesterol skeptics who point out that: When more cholesterol is eaten, the liver simply makes less, and vice versa. Hence, dietary intake of cholesterol has no impact on blood cholesterol.
Half of the people who have heart attacks have normal cholesterol.
Old people with low cholesterol die twice as often from a heart attack as do old people with high cholesterol.
High cholesterol is predictive of death from coronary heart disease in men of all ages and in women under the age of 50. However, low cholesterol is significantly associated with increased all-cause mortality in men across the entire age range, and in women from the age of 50 onward.
(Ladies, celebrate your big five-O with a cholesterol feast!)
Low blood cholesterol could lead to depression, anxiety, dementia, reduced cognitive function, malnutrition, hyperthyroidism, liver disease, and infections which result in gastrointestinal and respiratory diseases.
Contrary to what almost everyone and his dog have been saying, cholesterol does NOT clog up arteries. Instead, it's inflammation – caused by viruses, toxins or bacteria – that's the culprit. When inflammation happens, arteries constrict, blood thickens so it can clot, and scars form during the healing process. As a result, arteries may become blocked. High cholesterol is found at the 'scene of the crime' because it's needed for forming new cells, which replace damaged, inflamed cells. Hence, inflammation leads to high cholesterol and clogged arteries. The clogging, however, is NOT caused by high cholesterol.
Cholesterol skeptics believe the cholesterol myth is fabricated by drug companies, and their doctor cronies, so that they can sell more statins for lowering cholesterol. What's the truth? Does high cholesterol food cause high blood cholesterol? Does high blood cholesterol cause clogged arteries? I don't know. I'm chewing on it . . . together with some prawns, heads and all. Om nom nom nom . . . .
12 medium size prawns, around 400 g 2 egg whites 2 tbsp packed roughly chopped garlic 2 tsp light soya sauce 1 tsp fish sauce 1 tsp Shaoxing wine pinch sugar 2 tbsp thinly sliced spring onions 2 tsp vegetable oil 2 tsp white sesame oil
蒜泥蝦 is ideal if you like prawns in the shell but don't like shelling 'em at the table – and you don't have a mainland Chinese woman to do it for you! (Sorry if you don't understand the joke.) See how pretty the red, white and green colours are? Just make sure the prawns aren't overcooked, and you'll wow everyone at the table . . . with the dish as well as what you know about cholesterol.
Preheat plate for prawns by gently steaming for 5 minutes. Do this whilst preparing prawns, or about 10 minutes before serving.
To prepare prawns, trim and discard legs and feelers. Cut each prawn in the middle lengthwise, leaving the 2 halves joined at the tail. Rinse quickly under running water to remove veins. Dry with paper towels.
Beat egg whites, garlic, light soya sauce, fish sauce, wine and sugar till well combined.
Arrange prawns on preheated plate, cut side up, snugly. Drizzle with egg mixture. Bring water for steaming back to a boil. Cover. Reduce heat to low. Steam till prawns are red and cooked, 2-3 minutes depending on size. Turn off heat. Remove cover. Sprinkle with spring onions.
Heat vegetable oil and white sesame oil in a separate pan or pot till almost smoking. Drizzle oil on spring onions and prawns. Serve immediately.
Pig brains used to be a popular food for Chinese. The practice has died out more or less, but I thought it would be nice to have a record of how traditional Double-Boiled Pig Brain Soup is made. And also Pig Brain Omelette, which is the photo on the left. Doesn't look too bad, does it? The other photos, however, are a bit gruesome, to be honest. So, if you're squeamish, you should not read this post. Did you get that? Repeat:
GO AWAY IF YOU'RE SQUEAMISH!
This post is for those who are brave, or those who have a bit of Hannibal in them. If you think you're one of them, please continue reading. Or come back later if you just ate.
Don't blame me if you're going 'Aaaaargh!' or 'Eeeeew!' I did warn you. This is what a pig's raw brain looks like. What did you expect? See the bit of bone fragment on the left? Nice, eh?
I don't know if other tribes eat the membrane surrounding the brain but my tribe – 'Ooonga oonga!' – doesn't. To remove the blood vessels, you stick a toothpick into the web, then twirl. All the red stuff would wind itself around the toothpick.
This is what it looks like after it's done. The twirling takes a couple of minutes.
After a thorough rinse, the brain is ready for the pot. Yes, it's soft, and slimy after it's washed.
Make a double-boiled soup with some lean pork and Chinese herbs such as ginseng, dang gui or cordyceps. Add a couple of Chinese dried dates for sweetness.
Or make an omelette, which doesn't look scary at all. No one would know what's in it unless you tell them. The brain doesn't taste nasty, just soft and creamy. If you say it's beancurd, it's totally plausible.
Judging from the price – 50 cents each – I guess the brain isn't the most treasured part of the pig now. In the old days, they were extremely popular around exam time. My mother had to go to the market early in the morning to make sure she got one. Like many other Chinese mothers, she believed pig brains improved intelligence, and ginseng provided an energy boost. So, I had double-boiled brain and ginseng soup faithfully waiting for me once or twice a week, just before going to bed. Only when school exams loomed, mind you, to make sure I scored well. Rest of the time, we had Pig Brain Omelette occasionally on Sundays. It was a treat, believe it or not, and the 'brainy' bits were the most coveted. Ah yes, those were the days . . . .
DOUBLED-BOILED PIG BRAIN SOUP
(Recipe for 1 person)
8 slices dang gui, or 15 slices American ginseng 1 pig brain, cleaned as described above 100 g lean pork, rinsed 2 Chinese dried red dates, rinsed
Put all ingredients in a small bowl or ramekin that can hold 300 ml (1¼ cups). Add ½ cup water. Cover the bowl or ramekin, with aluminium foil if it doesn't have a proper cover. Double-boil with gently simmering water for 3 hours. If you like, remove the herbs and dates, which are not eaten. Serve hot.
Typically, pig brain soup is taken just before going to bed so that it's not eaten with other stuff that might negate the benefits of the brain and herbs. Anything acidic such as oranges is a big no-no till the soup is digested and absorbed! As are salt and pepper in the soup for the same reason.
PIG BRAIN OMELETTE
(Recipe for 4 persons)
1 pig brain, cleaned as described above, and cut into small, bite size pieces 2 eggs 2 tsp light soya sauce couple of dashes ground white pepper ½ tsp Shaoxing wine small pinch of sugar 3 tsp vegetable oil 1 tbsp roughly chopped Chinese parsley
I like to add 1 tbsp milk/water/stock per egg when making omelettes but not for a 'brainy omelette' because there's quite a bit of water in the crevices.
Beat all ingredients except oil and Chinese parsley till thoroughly combined. Heat wok or frying pan (18 cm would be just right) till very hot. Add 2 tsp oil and heat till almost smoking. Add egg mixture. Fry over medium heat till bottom is lightly golden, pushing edges to the middle so that the omelette cooks evenly. When eggs are 75% set, cut omelette into 4 pieces with a spatula. Turn each piece over. Add Chinese parsley. Drizzle with 1 tsp oil. Fry till the second side is also lightly golden brown. Plate and serve
The finger has pointed at sugar, carbs, fat, high-fructose corn syrup, metabolic rate, genes, not having breakfast, having a heavy dinner, having a late dinner, some virus (!), fast food, packaged food, soft drinks, portion sizes, depression, boredom, childhood obesity, hormones, mixing with other fat people, lack of information, lack of education, lack of exercise, lack of will power, etc, etc.
Anything and everything under the sun that can be blamed has been. The most bizarre reason cited for obesity, I think, is poverty. Poor people can't afford foods which are not fattening and hence, they have to eat foods which make them fat. To me, this argument is utter rubbish. It's not difficult to eat well and eat cheaply. Fruits and vegetables can be dirt cheap. It depends on which ones you go for. So are chicken and pork, especially if you buy frozen. Eggs cost next to nothing. A piece of beef tenderloin may be expensive, but certainly not minced beef.
Good, nutritious ingredients are much cheaper than the fast, convenient crap that poor people get fat on.
So why don't they go for the healthier and cheaper option?
This is where the fat-and-poor brigade wheel out their second argument. They say they have to work all the time – they're poor, remember? – so they have no time to cook. Never mind that poor people in the past cooked all the time.
Modern, "economically disadvantaged" folks are too busy to turn ingredients into something edible. Again, utter rubbish.
The recipe I'm sharing today, Thai Basil Chicken, takes three minutes to prep and cook. THREE MINUTES! Queuing at a burger joint or hawker centre takes longer than three minutes around meal time! Hang on, just getting there takes longer than three minutes! I would have cooked, eaten and washed up whilst the poverty stricken, oh-so-busy fat slob is still waiting for his greasy grub.
Eaten with rice, Thai Basil Chicken isn't a balanced meal but neither is a cheeseburger or chicken rice. It's cheaper though, besides having a lot less fat, and no chemical additives or msg. And it's lip smacking good, or aroy mak mak in Thai.
To turn the three-minute job into a balanced meal, all that's needed is some veggies. Which would take another five minutes, blanched or stir fried. A cheap, healthy, balanced meal in eight minutes. How often do you get served in eight minutes when you eat out?
THAI BASIL CHICKEN (PAD KRAPOW/HORAPA GAI) (Recipe for 4 persons)
1½ tbsp vegetable oil 4 cloves garlic, peel and mince 4 chilli padis, rinse and chop roughly 350 g coarsely minced chicken legs 4 tsp fish sauce ½ tsp dark soya sauce 50 g Thai holy (krapow) or sweet (horapa) basil, rinsed
Make sure windows in your kitchen are open! Heat wok till very hot. Add oil and heat till almost smoking. Add garlic and chillies. Stir till garlic is lightly golden over high heat. Add chicken. Stir till colour changes and chicken is cooked. Add fish sauce and dark soya sauce. Mix well and stir till fish sauce is fragrant. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Add basil leaves. Stir till leaves are wilted. Turn off heat. Plate and serve.
I tried making sesame balls last Saturday. You know, 煎堆, those deep fried glutinous rice balls coated with white sesame seeds. Thought it should be quite straight forward. Make a dough with glutinous rice flour, plus a bit of rice flour and sugar. Roll into little balls. Wrap with peanut butter (a stand-in for more traditional stuff like red bean paste). Dredge in white sesame seeds. Deep-fry over low heat. Easy peasy.
So, the little balls were deep-frying away when I noticed that they were going from round to pear shaped. That meant the balls weren't heating up and expanding evenly. Which was a bad sign but I didn't know at the time 'cause it was my first time making sesame balls. Suddenly, 'KABOOM!' One of the sesame balls exploded three feet into the air and shot out of the pot . . . . Ok, I exaggerate. A sesame ball did jump out but it was more like a dull 'boom!' Still, there was hot oil on my right hand. 'Aaaaargh!' I dropped the spatula immediately, turned off the stove, and darted to the tap. As I rinsed my hand, two more sesame balls exploded spectacularly, shooting out of the pot like cannon balls. I made another dash, this time to the freezer for some ice to put on my poor hand. My face was hit as well but it didn't feel as bad as the hand which had been next to the pot. I guess the oil had time to cool down a bit as it flew through the air towards my face. (Or maybe the skin on my face is really thick?)
Soothed and calmed by the ice, I surveyed the kitchen through my oil speckled glasses. There was oil everywhere on the floor and walls. The ceiling was spared but 'ground zero', the top of the stove, had a big puddle of oil. There were bits of peanut butter and white specks of flour here and there. #$!☠&☠^♠‡!!! I got some ointment for burns from the first aid box, grabbed an ice cold coke from the fridge, and scooted out of the disaster zone.
Safe in the living room, I started googling 'exploding rice balls'. Yup, these culinary missiles had attacked and claimed many victims before. A lot of unwary kitchen warriors, like me, had been caught by surprise. The enemy came out of nowhere; we had no time to run or hide.
An hour later, my hand stopped burning as the ointment took effect. I went back to the kitchen to clean up, thinking I should call it a day. There were fragments of Sesame Ball on the counter top, actually looking quite good with just the right shade of golden brown. From a solid little lump, the dough had expanded into a ball with a hollow in the middle, before detonating and exploding into fragments. I popped one of said fragments in my mouth . . . . Hey, it's good! It was still crisp after my hour-long recuperation, and it wasn't oily. If only it hadn't exploded, it would have been perfect.
Believe it or not, I decided to have another go after tasting the fragment of sesame ball. I almost succeeded, I thought. I figured the rice balls exploded because there wasn't enough oil, the oil was too hot, I wasn't stirring enough, or all of the above. All I had to do was add more oil (stop stinging!), keep the temperature really low, and stir more. In went the remaining raw rice balls, and . . . . out came the hot oil onto my hand. My right hand, again. 'Aaaaargh!'
Surrender? Hell no.
I tried again the next day. This time, I had a towel draped over my right hand! Plus a different recipe which mixed boiled, cooked dough with raw dough, and used only glutinous rice flour, without adding rice flour. The balls still exploded, but they stayed in the pot instead of blowing up completely. Hey, that's an improvement!
The fourth attempt was a combination of the first two recipes. A mix of raw and cooked dough, that was made with rice flour and glutinous rice flour. And the balls were wrapped with an air pocket inside instead of without. The results are what you see in the photos. Not too shabby, I think, even though they were little ones around 6 cm wide. Did you know those made by pros are as big as footballs? Like this one:
Notice the oil is so hot it's smoking? Yet the rice ball doesn't explode. If it did, it would really have gone 'KABOOM!' I might try making one that big one day . . . but only after I put on the protective gear worn by people who clear landmines!
Check these out:
Dry Chicken Curry
Roast Chicken with Mixed Herbs
Soya Sauce Chicken
Thai Basil Chicken
SESAME BALLS (煎堆)
(Recipe for 32 pieces)
240 glutinous rice flour 40 g rice flour 4 tbsp sugar (or 6 tbsp if not using filling) ¼ cup white sesame seeds, placed in a bowl for dredging 150 g filling, e.g. red bean paste or lotus seed paste, optional vegetable oil for deep-frying
Stir rice flour and glutinous rice flour till evenly mixed. Dissolve sugar in 140 ml hot water, stirring till water is warm, not hot. Add to flour. Mix well. Gather 85 g of wet dough (some flour would still be dry). Make into small discs. Cook in boiling water till floating. Mix with raw dough whilst still hot but cool enough to handle. Knead till evenly mixed. If necessary, add a bit more warm water or glutinous rice flour so that dough is not too dry or too sticky. Roll into a ball and set aside, covered, for 10 minutes. This allows the flour to fully absorb the water added.
Divide dough into 32 pieces. Roll each piece into a ball. Keeping balls not working on covered, fill with chosen filling, around 1 tsp, as in this video:
Make sure there's air in the dough, i.e. don't wrap dough tightly round filling. If there's no filling, it would be just an air pocket inside the dough.
Dredge filled rice balls in white sesame seeds. If rice balls are dry, dunk quickly in water or pat surface with a bit of water before dredging. Press gently so that sesame seeds stick well.
In a pot or wok, add enough oil to cover sesame balls, about 4 cm deep. Heat till oil is moderately hot. Test by putting an uncoated wooden chopstick in the oil. If there's no reaction, wait a few more seconds. If there's rapid sizzling and big bubbles, turn off heat to let oil cool down slightly. If there're small bubbles and gentle sizzling around the chopstick, the oil is just right. Reduce heat to very low. For gas stoves, the flame should be slightly flickering or just steady. Add glutinous rice balls, not too many so that all can move around freely. Fry till Sesame Balls start floating, gently pressing any that doesn't expand evenly to get a round shape, with a spatula against the wok/pot or another spatula. After rice balls start floating, increase heat to medium. (If the heat is too low at this stage, rice balls would be too soft and chewy inside.) Sizzling should increase from slow to moderate speed, but not too rapid. Stir gently to ensure even browning.
Keep stirring and frying till rice balls are golden brown, about 10 minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon to drain on paper towels and cool down. Serve.
I should have garnished the chicken with rose petals instead of spring onions since it was made with rose essence wine, 玫瑰露酒.
Well, it's too late now 'cause the chicken is all eaten up.
Dang! Should have thought of it earlier . . . .
OK, please put your imagination cap on and imagine succulent soya sauce chicken with rose essence wine on a bed of rose petals . . . pink, of course . . . .
Authentic Cantonese 豉油鸡 must have 玫瑰露酒. Otherwise, it just doesn't have the floral fragrance that comes from the roses in the wine. 玫瑰露酒 should be used in moderation because it's not some whimpish wine despite its name. It's a spirit – a rose spirit with sugar added – and it's got a whopping 55% alcohol. This is serious, potent stuff that deserves respect and restraint, as I found out the first time I made soya sauce chicken.
"Did you use the right wine?" "Doesn't taste right."
"Maybe you used too much?"
"You should add oyster sauce."
"You didn't add enough sugar."
"I did. I added a lot."
"Blah blah blah blah blah . . . ."
There were a lot of suggestions around the table. The critics finished the chicken though, so it couldn't have been that bad!
Second time round, I proceeded cautiously and added the rose essence wine a little at a time. (Don't call on a powerful spirit without controlling it!) The balance was right judging from the lack of advice from the critics. Next time, I'll serve them soya sauce chicken on a bed of rose petals lightly dressed with the chicken marinade.
SOYA SAUCE CHICKEN WITH ROSE ESSENCE WINE (玫瑰露豉油鸡)
(Recipe for 4 persons)
Marinade 3 tbsp + 2 tbsp sugar 1½ cups water 4 tbsp light soya sauce 1 tsp salt 1½ tbsp dark soya suace 2 tbsp rose essence wine (玫瑰露酒) 1 sprig spring onion (20 g), washed, cut 5 cm (2 inches) long and crushed 4 cloves garlic, washed and crushed, skin on 5 slices ginger (20 g), crushed
2 chicken legs (500 g), blanched in boiling water and rinsed 1 tsp white sesame oil 1 tsp thinly sliced spring onions or Chinese parsley
To see how much marinade you need, place chicken in the pot you're using, then measure the amount of water needed to just cover it. You can do this when you're blanching the chicken. If you need more than 1½ cups, just scale up the recipe. In a pot just big enough for 2 chicken legs, heat 3 tbsp sugar, swirling from time to time. Start with high heat, reducing to low as colour darkens. When melted sugar looks like dark honey, add ¼ cup water. If caramel solidifies, heat till melted again. Turn off heat. Add remaining water and all other ingredients for marinade. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Add chicken, weighed down with a small plate. Marinade for 5 hours, placed in the fridge when cool*.
Bring marinade and chicken to a gentle boil. Cover and turn off heat. Steep for 25 minutes*. Check if juices run clear. If not, cover and wait another 5 minutes. Remove and brush thoroughly with white sesame oil. Chop into bite size pieces. Drizzle with marinade. Garnish with spring onions or Chinese parsley. Dig in!
* I actually leave my chicken outside the fridge, then in the boiled marinade for only 10 minutes. This is sufficient when the chicken legs are brined and not chilled. And they're long and slim (from 'kampong' chicken) rather than fat and squat. And your pot retains heat well. And you like the bones still pink. The short steeping time prevents the chicken skin from turning mushy (chicken skin connoisseurs would know what I mean).
It is, technically, risky keeping meat outside the fridge for 5 hours (bacteria and all that). But I'm still alive, and I air-dry chicken (for roasting) all the time for 4-5 hours although that's done with a fan.
Spring onion pancakes – 葱油饼 – are a common street food in China and Taiwan. Available any time of the day, they're particularly popular for breakfast.
Contrary to its name, spring onion pancakes are an unleavened, fried bread, not pancakes. And "葱油饼", strictly speaking, means spring onion oil pancake. But I guess it's good marketing to omit the word "oil"!
A good 葱油饼, best enjoyed hot from the pan, is crispy and flakey outside whilst the inside is chewy, interspersed layers of dough and spring onions.
There're only four ingredients – flour, spring onions, oil and salt – but when done well, freshly fried spring onion pancakes are absolutely delicious, especially when they're washed down with sweet soya bean milk orteh halia.
SPRING ONION PANCAKES (葱油饼)
(Recipe for 8 pieces)
350 g plain flour (2½ cups) 2 tsp salt 6 tbsp vegetable oil 120 g thinly sliced spring onions (aka scallions and green onions) (1 cup)
The quality of spring onions is crucial. If you can't get good spring onions, don't bother making 葱油饼! The small, thin ones (leaves about ½ cm wide or less) with purple stems are my favourite. Rarely find these in supermarkets, btw.
Place flour in a big mixing bowl. Dissolve 1 tsp salt in ½ cup (120 ml) just boiled water. Drizzle over flour. Stir till well mixed. Add ¼ cup room temperature water. Knead till smooth, 10 minutes or so. Dough should be tacky but not enough to stick to hands. If too dry, wet hands once or twice whilst kneading. If sticky, sprinkle with some flour. When dough is smooth, roll into a ball with edges tucked underneath. Cover and set aside to rest for 30 minutes.
Divide dough into 8 pieces. Dust work surface with flour, sparingly. Roll each piece of dough into a ball. Flatten with palm. Roll out as thinly as possible. Any shape is ok. If you want it thinner, stretch carefully after rolling. Not too much though, or the dough would break when it's rolled out with spring onions. Brush dough surface with about ½ tsp vegetable oil, leaving ½ cm margin around edges. Sprinkle with fine salt to taste, a large pinch or about 1/8 tsp. Sprinkle with 2 tbsp spring onions, to the edges. Roll up like a Swiss roll, tightly. Pinch edges to seal. Twirl dough so that it looks like a snake coiled up. Flatten top down with palm. Roll out gently into a thin layer, pressing the middle harder and the edges more gently. This allows the edges to puff up more when fried, thus making the inside layers more distinct and flakey. Try not to break the dough. A few small leaks are ok but everything inside spilling out isn't. Repeat with remaining dough, redusting work surface sparingly when necessary.
When all 8 pieces are ready, pan-fry in hot oil over medium heat till golden brown on both sides. Whilst frying, press middle of pancakes gently to increase contact between dough and pan. Lower heat if oil starts to smoke. There should be a bit of oil floating in the pan at all times. Otherwise, pancakes are toasted, not fried. Do not put too much oil in the pan in one go. Drizzle more as you fry, especially after turning pancakes over.
Drain pancakes on paper towels after frying. Crush between palms to break up layers before serving. Scrumptious when piping hot.
To eat, tear a small piece with your hands or a fork and pop it in your mouth. If you bite into the whole pancake, you'd flatten the layers of dough and destroy the flakiness. The mouthfeel wouldn't be good, and all your hard work would be wasted. I'm serious, not kidding.
If you're wondering what on earth "olive vegetables" are, it's olives and salted mustard greens cooked in vegetable oil till everything is a dark green mush. And what a marvelous mush it is!
The strong flavours from the olives and mustard greens meld together and mellow during the long hours of cooking, creating something that tastes like olives, but better. It's more complex, more nuanced, rounder, smoother . . . an absolute delight with plain rice porridge, straight out of the bottle. But I would say that, wouldn't I? I'm Teochew and "olive vegetables", aka 乌橄榄菜, is a Teochew specialty. It's one of our many ways of preserving vegetables.
Honestly though, I swear I'm not biased. Why would anyone eat an oily, inky black mush – since the Sung dynasty, apparently – unless it tastes really good? Making 乌橄榄菜 is a long, tedious process. Want to see how it's done in China? Here's a video – in Teochew (!) with Chinese subtitles – on a school teacher turned farmer turned businessman who's made good producing 乌橄榄菜 (catch him around 3:40 looking mighty pleased with himself as he relates his success story):
The weather's been really hot lately, so hot I can't fathom the thought of eating rice. Give me porridge, please! Porridge is so much lighter, and requires less effort since no chewing is necessary. I also can't fathom cooking anything elaborate in this heat. The quicker, the easier, the better. And nothing is quicker and easier than stir-frying minced pork with 乌橄榄菜. I don't have to cut anything except for a few cloves of garlic. Which takes all of five seconds if you whack 'em hard with a cleaver à la Martin Yan. The pork, because it's minced, takes all of two minutes to cook. It's done before I get all hot and bothered. Now that's what I call a cool dish for a hot day . . . . On second thought, it's cool for any day!
3 large cloves garlic, peel and mince coarsely 300 g coarsely minced pork light soya sauce to taste, 1 tsp or so
Drain 乌橄榄菜, reserving oil. Heat wok till very hot. Add 1 tbsp oil. (Discard the rest, or maybe keep it for a salad.) Heat till very hot. Add garlic. Stir-fry till translucent over medium heat. Add 乌橄榄菜. Stir-fry till fragrant and garlic is lightly golden. Increase heat to high; wait a few seconds for wok to heat up. Add minced pork. Stir to break up lumps. Keep stirring till pork is opaque and cooked, 2-3 minutes. Taste, then season with light soya sauce if necessary. Mix well. Turn off heat. Push pork to one side of wok to drain off excess oil. Plate, minus oil. Serve with rice or porridge.