Nonya Kaya

Kaya making is an assertion of my Peranakan roots. It also requires a very specific mindset and mood. One must be very calm, zen and patient, so pick a day where you have jack-all to do.

Seeing that insomnia has been my best friend lately, making kaya at midnight seems like a perfectly reasonable thing to do. But I digress...

The mantra for the kaya-making day is "slow and gentle" - lovemaking, as opposed to f**king. There is a pick-up on the tempo at the end though, for a grand finish. You'll see what I mean... Just keep reading.

Right, now on to the kaya. Ingredients are simple enough. Coconut milk, eggs, sugar and pandan leaves. Proportions are a snap to remember: it's a 1:1:1 ratio of coconut milk, eggs and sugar.

But my spin on kaya is gula melaka. It gives it a smoky caramelly flavour that is just to die for. If you don't like gula melaka then replace with sugar... but hey, you don't know what you're missing.

• 400g of coconut milk (use the ones found in the chiller, tetrapak or tinned milk ain't so great)
• 200g white sugar
• 200g gula melaka, chopped fine
• 400g eggs (approximately 15 eggs)
• 20 stalks pandan leaves, washed, dried and tied into bundles

Break eggs into a bowl and gently whisk. What you want to do is combine the whites and yolk but not add air into it.

Next, mix the white sugar and gula melaka in a large metal bowl. Add coconut milk and eggs and gently stir. Once again, the whole point is to mix well, not beat the living shit out of it.

Leave it for awhile to let any larger lumps of gula melaka melt, until you get a consistent liquid with no big lumpy bits. The smaller lumps will melt when on the heat, so don't worry too much about them.

Heat a large saucepan of water, about 1/3 full and bring to a gentle simmer. Add the pandan leaves and place the metal bowl over the water and start stirring with a wire whisk.

Be careful with the heat. The water shouldn't be on a crazy boil, with steam escaping everywhere and the bowl rattling over the pan. There shouldn't be steam escaping and the bowl should sit firmly on the pan.

Basically, from here onwards, it's just stir, stir and more stir every few minutes for the next hour or so. The liquid will slowly thicken into a custardy consistency. It helps to have the TV on, or put your significant other on stirring duty.

And yes, if you go to the loo for a pee or a smoke break, it'll be ok. It's kaya, not a time bomb.

Halfway through, pour the fairly thick liquid through a sieve to remove lumps and bits of pandan leaves, then return to heat and keep stirring. Check occasionally that the water hasn't dried up and top up when necessary.

When the kaya is starting to really thicken, remove the pandan leaves. From this point onwards, you may release your pent-up frustration and whisk more vigorously.

The kaya is done when it's thick enough to coat the whisk like so:

Remove from heat and let cool. As it cools, whisk the crap out of it periodically. Why? Because it's already caused you so much grief, the bastard deserves it.

No, not really. First off, it breaks up lumps and gives the kaya a smooth creamy texture. Second, it just helps it cool faster.

Make sure you let the kaya cool completely to room temperature before sealing it and refrigerating. Sealing a hot jar will cause water to evaporate and collect on the kaya and it'll go bad real quick.

Let it refrigerate for at least a day for the flavours to come together before eating. It will also thicken up a bit more for the right spreading consistency.

I told you it isn't hard... Just long and tedious, but infinitely satisfying.

"Slow and gentle... Sloooooooow and gentle... Now harder... Harder... YEAHHHHH!!!!"

Other items on the Childhood Comforts menu:

• Mee Swa Soup 
• Prawn and Pork Rib Noodle Soup