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.

Marmite Ribs

I'd intended to buy a jar of Marmite to make Marmite Pork Ribs only after I finished some of the sauces and whatnots (which were threatening to spill out of the kitchen into the living room). But my self-discipline crumbled when I saw what a great sense of humour the makers of Marmite have, as the commercial shows. Love it or hate it? I'd never had Marmite before, and I couldn't wait to find out. dldl dldld dldl ldl dldld

I wandered up and down the aisles in the supermart looking for Marmite. I knew it had to be there somewhere because I had phoned earlier and made sure the supermart had stocks. It wasn't with the jams and spreads, nor sauces and condiments. Hmm, yeast extract . . . . Yeast? Baking products? Nope, not there either. Where else could it be? You'd never had guessed! Marmite, together with its best friend, Bovril, was sitting next to the cough syrups, plasters and ENO. Why? God only knows!

The best description of Marmite I've come across is from Reginald Hunter who said, during a Stephen Fry show, 'Marmite tastes like there's a naked man with hairy legs in your kitchen, and every now and again you take a plate with some toast, and walk onto his butt and go “Ok friend, do what you do best!”'

Was there any truth in what Reginald Hunter says? Umm . . . I wouldn't know. I've never had anything of what he described in my kitchen.

Does Marmite taste like, as a Steve Johnson article put it, 'faecal-brown . . . sludge of processed fungal industrial waste'? Hmm, not sure what those taste like either.

After reading the nasty insults about Marmite, I was a bit apprehensive about eating it, to be honest. I dipped the tip of a chopstick into the jar, and took a little lick of the black, gooey stuff, neat. Hmm . . . . It was rather like reduced fish sauce, which I'd made once by mistake when trying a Thai recipe. Both tasted kinda burnt and bitter, and were extremely salty – pretty nasty, in other words.

Marmite neat wasn't for me. Next, I tried the most popular way of enjoying Marmite: a wee bit of the yeast extract spread t-h-i-n-l-y on generously buttered toast. I took a small bite and . . . . Hey, it's not bad! The salt in the yeast extract went well with the butter, I thought. In fact, spaghetti tossed with Marmite and butter is delicious, if you believe the Domestic Goddess. It's better than bak chor mee, she (sort of) says in the video here.

The grand finale and highlight of my tasting session was pork with Marmite. The thick, meaty prime ribs braised with Marmite, sugar, honey, ketchup and Worcestershire sauce could be summed up in one alphabet: Mmmmm . . . . The sugar and honey masked the burnt, bitter taste of Marmite, leaving a sweet and savory sauce that was a perfect fit with tender, juicy ribs falling off the bone. If everyone ate Marmite this way, I'm sure there wouldn't be any Marmite hate groups!

And now, I'm ready for the gourmet version:

Marmite XO, anyone? . . . . lit tl lk dlkdl dlkdl dlkd dldkl lkdj dldk l

MARMITE PORK RIBS (Recipe for 4 persons) 500 g pork ribs chopped 3-4 cm long, wash and drain 2 tbsp Marmite 1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce 1 tbsp tomato ketchup 2 tbsp sugar 2 tbsp honey Put all ingredients in a pot, with ribs in a single layer if possible. Add enough water to almost cover ribs. Bring to a boil. Cover and simmer gently till meat is just tender, about 1 hour, topping up with more water if necessary so that sauce covers at least half of ribs all the time. Next, increase heat to medium-low, leave pot uncovered, and reduce sauce till sticky, stirring from time to time to ensure even heating and prevent the sides from burning. This should take 15-20 minutes depending on the amount of liquid. When sauce is just short of ready, skim and discard excess oil. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Turn off heat. Give ribs a few last turns to coat evenly with thickened sauce. Plate and serve. You might not believe it but when the sauce has the right consistency, it tastes a little chocolatey.

Baked Cod

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Ayam Panggang (Grilled Chicken)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Black Pepper Crab

Rule number one of crab handling: Make sure it's dead before cutting the string! Ask the crab politely, whilst tapping its legs with a knife or chopstick, 'Hello? Hello? Are you dead?' If it nods its head or says, 'Yes, I'm dead,' beware of the crafty crab! If there's no response and the legs aren't moving, then and only then should the string be cut. I never forget the rule so no, I wasn't bitten. I was just kidding!

Of course, before you check whether the crab is dead, you have to kill it first. The easiest way to do this is to chuck it in the freezer. 15-20 minutes should do the trick, or 30 for the stronger ones.

When buying crabs, choose those that are heavy for their size, and tap the legs to make sure they're alive and kicking. If you like female crabs, go for the ones that have round 'aprons'. The pointy ones are boys – makes sense, right?

The bright orange roe is what eating crabs is all about for many people. Hence, 'roe crabs' are treasured and more expensive than 'meat crabs' and 'milt crabs'.

Cleaning crabs is quite easy. First, trim and discard the abdominal flap, aka apron. Next, grab the bottom end of the shell in one hand, the body in the other, and pull them apart. If the shell seems stuck, that's a good sign that the crab had been fighting fit until it met you and its destiny. Or maybe it was in the freezer a bit too long. If the latter, wait for it to thaw. If the former, insert your kitchen scissors between the bottom end of the shell and the body, then lever off the shell.

Once the shell is removed, you'll see some spongy brown stuff on the body. These are the gills which should be trimmed and discarded. Next, give the crab a good scrub – don't forget the crevices inbetween the legs – followed by a thorough rinse. Turn the shell upside down so that it drains properly. Looks like a car, doesn't it? (I'm thinking along the lines of the Batmobile.) Hey, that must be why its proper name is 'caraspace'!

After cleaning the crab, twist off the pinchers and give 'em a few good whacks with the back of the cleaver. The shell should be cracked and the meat, ideally, intact. Lastly, chop the body into four or six pieces, depending on the size. And that's all – done! Easy peasy lemon squeezy. I like to trim the last joint on the smaller legs to make them a bit shorter, but that's optional. I also like to trim the two small flaps at the top end of the body, in the middle. These are the manibles, which are part of the crab's mouth. But it's no big deal if you leave 'em. The crab is ready for the wok; all you have to do now is cook it. May I suggest Black Pepper Crab?

BLACK PEPPER CRAB (Recipe for 4 persons) 1.6 kg crab, cleaned, drained, and chopped (see instructions above) ¼ cup cornflour, optional vegetable oil for deep-frying, optional 1 tbsp vegetable oil for stir-frying 1 tbsp butter 4 shallots, finely minced 4 cloves garlic, finely minced 2 tbsp black peppercorns, or 1 tbsp if you like it mild, coarsely ground/pounded 2 tbsp Shaoxing wine 2 tbsp light soya sauce 2 tsp dark soya sauce ½ tsp salt Deep-frying helps the roe/milt stick to the crab and not fall off during the stir-fry step, but the oil splatters because of moisture under the shell. If the crab doesn't have much roe/milt, or you don't mind picking up the roe/milt in the sauce, skip the deep-frying. Or deep-fry only the parts with roe/milt, leaving out the legs. If deep-frying, sprinkle cornflour on crab where there's roe/milt. Rest for 5 minutes so that the flour sticks well. Drop crab into just smoking vegetable oil, roe/milt side down. Fry just that side of the crab till set and lightly brown. Remove from oil and drain. In a clean wok, stir-fry shallots in oil and butter over high heat till translucent. Add garlic and stir-fry till lightly golden. Add black peppercorns (which burn easily, so lower the heat if necessary) and stir-fry till fragrant. Add wine and stir through. Add crab, light soya sauce, dark soya sauce, salt and ¼ cup water. Stir to mix well. Cover and simmer till cooked, about 10 minutes depending on size and whether crab has been deep-fried. Stir again to mix thoroughly. Sauce should be just thick enough to stick to the crab. Poor quality crabs release a lot of liquid when they're cooked but good ones don't. Increase heat and reduce sauce, or add a bit more water as necessary. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Plate and serve. Adding water together with the crab deglazes the wok, i.e. loosen the peppercorns that are stuck to the bottom and sides. This is done to prevent the peppercorns from burning. It's different from a classic stir-fry which has water added (if any) at a later stage so that the cooking temperature is kept at the highest possible when the main ingredient is added to the wok.

Sambal Stingray (I)

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

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

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

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

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



17 September 2012 Update

Here's my video guide for making sambal stingray:

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

Herbal Mutton Soup

My mother cooked just about everyday, and not once did she cook mutton, lamb or goat anything – not once. Hence, my knowledge of cooking anything that goes 'Meh-eh-heh!' or 'Baa-aaa!' is pretty paltry. I learn on the job which is, if you ask me, a fun way of learning.

I cooked some lamb chops once. Said chops were marinated with pineapple juice, fresh rosemary and salt, then pan-fried till medium-rare. The chops were delicious but I had a small problem. You know how lamb chops have bones that are curved? I couldn't brown the curved part which had no contact with the pan. Lamb chops served in restaurants are completely seared though, as far as I can remember. How do they do it? Grilling or roasting wouldn't work because the meat would be overcooked by the time the bit which curves inward is brown. The only way I can think of is with a blow torch! Or maybe frying with lots of oil, like almost deep-frying?

My second encounter with mutton, lamb or goat anything at home was goat milk. I had two bottles delivered from Hay Dairies because some channel 8 program said goat milk was nicer than cow milk. Hah! Don't believe anything you see on TV! The first mouthful was indeed rich and milky but it was only for a few nanoseconds. The aftertaste hit me in the face with the unmistakable stench that only goats and sheep are capable of. 'Eeeeeeew!'
Hmm, what to do with two big bottles of goat milk less one mouthful? I made some yogurt, thinking the sourness might disguise the goaty smell. Big mistake! Not only was the stench not lessened by the fermentation, it actually became more concentrated. Double 'Eeeeew!'

Last resort: I heated up the remaining milk, poured the whole lot in a plastic basin, and plonked my feet in it! As me poor, weary feet luxuriated in Cleopatra style, I could hear a goat mama somewhere sobbing, 'You rob me of my milk for this?!' I hung my head in shame, and . . . . Hey, my feet are silky smooth!

And then there was the time when I tried my hand at mutton stew (post here). It was delicious, my neighbour said. 'Woooof! Woof! Wooof!' When am I cooking mutton again? That's the neighbour, btw. 'I just did but sorry, you're not getting any this time.'

I hate to disappoint my furry neighbour but the herbal soup with mutton ribs is too good to, um, go to the dogs.

HERBAL MUTTON SOUP (For 4 persons) 500 g fresh mutton (sheep or goat) ribs 15 Chinese dried red dates (红枣), seeds removed 20 g slices liquorice (甘草) (6 big slices) 20 g radix astragali (北芪) (6 big slices) 2 tbsp goji berries (枸杞, aka wolfberries) 10 g American ginseng beard (人参须) salt to taste, about ⅛ tsp 1 tbsp roughly chopped Chinese parsley 1 tbsp julienned ginger ground white pepper, to taste Some mutton smells; some doesn't. The key to a good soup is fresh meat that's clean tasting. Trim membranes and excess fat from ribs. Chop into chunky pieces. Blanch in boiling water and rinse thoroughly. Simmer gently with dates, liquorice and radix astragali in enough water to cover by about 2 inches. After 1 hour, add ginseng beard and goji berries. Bring back to a boil and simmer gently for another 30-45 minutes. Ribs should be soft and tender when done, with enough soup to cover by ½ inch or so. Increase heat or top up with a bit more water as necessary. Remove and discard liquorice, ginseng and radix astragali. Season soup with salt. Transfer to serving bowls. Sprinkle with Chinese parsley, ginger and pepper. Serve immediately. Don't simmer the ginseng heard and goji berries for more than 1 hour. Overcooked ginseng beard tastes 苦 instead of 甘, i.e. the herbal bitterness is flat and unpleasant. Overcooked goji berries may turn sour.

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