Hiatus End-us

... As my kitchen supplies make their way via slow boat to the big apple.

Watched a documentary called Food Inc and it freaked the holy crap out of me. The industrialized world's food supply is a production line of yuck from the depths of hell. Even fresh food ain't safe any more.

Therefore, I'm making the decision to switch to organics from now on. It'll be more expensive but ultimately kinder on my health and the environment.

Stay tuned for great picks at my local farmer's market!

Dishwashing revelations

It's pretty amazing what pops into my head while I'm doing the most mundane tasks.

Over a stack of dirty dishes from last night's chicken pie dinner, I realised what the right answer to the most dreaded question a man can hear.

"Baby, am I fat?"

Four little words to send chills down a man's spine, put the fear of god in him, and the distinct possibility of enforced celibacy for the rest of his natural life.

Before I reveal the right answer, I really need to start with the only two reasons why normal women ask that question. Yes, there are only two reasons. And the caveat is normal. This does not take into consideration crazy people nor any other dysfunctional self-image issues.

The first is: She knows she hasn't gained weight and is just fishing for compliments or reinforcement of her fabulousness.

The second is: She knows she's gained weight and is looking to see if you've noticed her ass is the size of a Mack truck.

The right answer is the honest answer.

Look at it this way. If you can clearly see that she's looking great, then a "Not at all honey, you look fabulous" will please her to no end because it comes out sincere.

On the other hand, if she is putting on a few sizes, then a gentle acknowledgement that's she's gained a few kilos, an offer of support to shed it and a "... and I love you no matter what" is probably the best bet. It may not be what she wants to hear but at least she knows you're not lying through your teeth. So, she'll pout a bit, deny you boom-boom for a couple of days, but chances are, you won't be hearing that question until she asks you again for the first reason. Haha...

Pure

Over at DF's birthday BBQ the other day, I got to talking to this dude who enjoys cooking too. Over our conversation, I realised that I'm a purist when it comes to food.

Sure, I like a bit of experimentation, mostly with a few ingredients in classic recipes. But when it comes to out and out mash-ups and fusion, I'm not your gal.

Peking duck pizza... chendol creme brulee... Sounds good in theory, but just not my cup of tea. Some things were created just perfect, so who am I to screw around with that?

There are some things in life that are good just pure, simple and the way they are.

Night time slows, raindrops splash rainbows
Perhaps someone you know, could sparkle and shine
As daydreams slide to colour from shadow
Picture the moonglow, that dazzles my eyes
And I love you

Just lying smiling in the dark
Shooting stars around your heart
Dreams come bouncing in your head
Pure and simple everytime

Now you're crying in your sleep
I wish you'd never learnt to weep
Don't sell the dreams you should be keeping
Pure and simple everytime

Dreams of sights, of sleigh rides in seasons
Where feelings not reasons, can make you decide
As leaves pour down, splash autumn on gardens
As colder nights harden, their moonlit delights
And I love you

Look at me with starry eyes
Push me up to starry skies
There's stardust in my head
Pure and simple everytime

Fresh and deep as oceans new
Shiver at the sight of you
I'll sing a softer tune
Pure and simple over you

A-Poaching Disaster

I don't know how to poach an egg. For everything I can cook, I can't get this simple thing right.

Three waterlogged scrambled eggs later, I retreated to the couch in shame to feel sorry for myself. Foiled by yet another deceptively simple but evil chicken spawn. Bah.

I shall overcome you evil little eggs. We shall meet again. Bwahahahaha...

Health kick

I feel damn fat. My mouth is writing cheques my ass keeps cashing.

All in all, it's bad news so I'm taking it healthy this week. For starters, I'm jogging/walking again and putting those yoga videos from GBF to good use.

But, all that exercise isn't going to do me any good if I keep stuffing my face with naughty things. Therefore, this week will be relatively healthy food. And I stress the "relatively".

I can't count calories for shit, and I refuse to eat anything plain and steamed. Healthy doesn't mean bland and tasteless. There has to be a better way.

I reckon if I keep to a few ground rules, this should be a fairly high nutrient and low calorie/GI menu.

First, no butter, cream or excessive refined carbs.

Second, no deep frying.

Third, lots and lots of fresh vegetables and lean meats.

When it comes to healthy eating, I'm a big believer of portion control and good ol' fashioned fresh food. If I can keep to the three ground rules, I think I'll be ok.

The line-up this week will be:

• Spiced braised lamb shanks with grilled vegetables
• Crabmeat waldorf salad
• Spice-rubbed grilled chicken salad
• Black pepper and mushroom steak with lemon-scented broccoli
• Garlic herb shrimp with a potato and french bean salad

Forever young

It's DF's birthday tonight and the missus has organised a big BBQ. I'm bowing to majority consensus and reduxing mini pavlovas and bite-sized creme brulee.

Birthdays bring mixed feelings for me. On one hand, I dread getting older and saggier, but at the same time, it's a relief that my life is moving forward. Nonetheless, age is a state of mind and I'm determined to be forever young even though my arse is telling me otherwise.

In any case, today has already started out well. On my way to the supermarket, a bus driver gave way on the nasty u-turn, and a short distance later I reciprocated by giving way as he turned out of the bus lane. When things like that happen, I once again believe in the goodness of people and that life would move forward so much better if everyone was just that bit kinder.

We drove to Cali
And got drunk on the beach
Got a motel and
Built a fort out of sheets
I finally found you
My missing puzzle piece
I'm complete

Let's go all the way tonight
No regrets, just love
We can dance, until we die
You and I, we'll be young forever

You make me feel like I'm livin' a
Teenage dream

The Sweet Escape

I'm most definitely in a sweet mood this week.

Sugary comfort treats like After Eight Macarons - pretty green shells with a mint chocolate filling. Perhaps some Fruit Custard Tartlets. Or even a Key Lime Pie.

Anyway, I'm kinda running out of ideas, so if anyone has any requests or suggestions, just send them my way.

If I could escape I would but,
First of all, let me say
I must apologize for acting stank & treating you this way
Cause I've been acting like sour milk all on the floor
It's your fault you didn't shut the refrigerator
Maybe that's the reason I've been acting so cold?

If I could escape and recreate a place that's my own world
And I could be your favourite girl forever, perfectly together
Tell me boy now wouldn't that be sweet
If I could be sweet, I know I've been a real bad girl
I didn't mean for you to get hurt
We can make it better, Tell me boy wouldn't that be sweet?

I want to get away, to our sweet escape
I want to get away, yeah

Sunday with the flu

I may not have the flu, but watching back-to-back episodes of Hoarders and Dancing with the Stars is a sure-fire way to depress myself and quite possibly my immune system.

Between the stupefaction of people living amidst garbage, to cheesiness of D-listers and has-beens doing the foxtrot, I've vegetated myself into a blue funk.

Thank god for good music to perk me up.

Closed my door, forgot my key, missed my bus in the pouring rain
It's been the usual sunday with a flu
And I just can't get over you

Burnt my toast and lost your number, cut my finger, spilled my beer
It's been the usual sunday with a flu
And I just can't get over you

I put your stockings in my purple boots
What if I don't get over you?

Had a chat and left my hat, ate my dog and walked my cat
It's been the usual sunday with a flu
And I just can't get over you

I put your stockings in my purple boots
What if I don't get over you?

Mind the gap

Undecided about whether or not to cook today. Saturdays are "gap" days. Where there's no one to feed and palming food off to the office on Monday means stuff won't keep.

The weather looks a little undecided as well. Not quite sunny, with rainclouds building up on the horizon. The neighbours are quarelling again and I really hope no one gets flung out the balcony. All in all, a fairly melancholy afternoon.

This kind of day calls for comfort food of some kind. Plenty of carbs and lots of flavour in a single bowl I can shovel into my mouth with one hand. Considering the size of my arse lately, maybe I should just go for a run instead.

When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Someone else can cook today

Damn straight.

Headed to Buko Nero for dinner tonight. Some fancy chi-chi pooh restaurant apparently, with a waiting list a month out. If the food is as good as they say, I'll probably rip them off and post the recipes at some point.

In the meantime, just chilling out and listening to music after the monthly pilgrimage to Phoon Huat. Love this track, just so catchy I can't get it out of my head.

Do you come here much? I swear I've seen your face before
Hope you don't see me blush, but I can't help but want you more
Baby tell me what's your story
I ain't shy, don't you worry
I'm flirtin with my eyes, wanna leave with you tonight
So do you come here much, I gotta see your face some more, some more

I'll never be the same - if we ever meet again
Won't let you get away - said if we ever meet again
This free fall's, got me so
Kiss me all night don't ever let me go
I'll never be the same
If we ever meet again
Say if we ever meet again

Monday Interlude

Today is grocery day after dropping off the triple chocolate cake at the office. According to inside sources, the hungry hordes descended upon in and it was gone in 60 seconds. Evidence of unabashed chocoholism I say.

The rain has eased up and it's a cool breezy night, perfect for sitting on my terrace and listening to music. The mood is somewhere between pensive and pouty. Rainy days tend to have that effect on me.

But joy! GBF is coming over for dinner tomorrow, so I can get cracking on the foie gras, crabmeat pasta and lemon meringue pie. Which probably makes the cup noodles I'll have for dinner tonight just that little bit more ironic.

Look at you now, you've disenchanted,
can't believe how things can change.
Take a little out of life and things get strange.
And now you find the wishes you were granted,
things you thought were in your hands,
have slipped away.
How much can you withstand?

The wasted time, the money spent,
a sign that reads 'For Sale or Rent'.
And everything is at a standstill,
and where's someone who'll be on hand till
you're no longer disenchanted,
thinking everything is wrong?

You know you're not the only one to wait so long.
I wonder, can you try again?
Are you that strong?

The Last Meal

As the week comes to a close, so does the red and white National Day theme, and I'm hard-pressed to find inspiration for the week ahead.

Lately I've been watching Bones, and a song came up in one episode from Nickelback called "Far Away". It's always been one of my favourites, romantic, anthemic and rock & roll all at the same time. Watching the video, it's all about someone being missed far far away... the dread and fear of losing someone such that it feels like if we lost them, it would be our last day on earth.

Which brings me back to the theme. I asked myself:

If I had one last day on earth with my loved one, what would I serve for dinner? What would I like to eat as I see the giant meteor crash down into ocean, evaporate the water instantaneously and steam us all like little human dumplings?

I'd definitely cook up meals that celebrate life, hope and happiness. Nothing sad or even vaguely comforting. Stuff that's bright, lively and embodies everything great about being alive.

The first thing would definitely be breakfast in bed, complete with buttermilk pancakes, creamy scrambled eggs and crisp bacon. Morning heralds the breaking of a new dawn, of hope and light, and of course, snuggling under the sheets and delicious morning sex.

Then there's sunshine and summer. The vibrant colours of pumpkins, apples and beetroot. Perfect for a silky saffron-scented pumpkin and apple soup, and a bright and rosy borscht.

All things decadent and luscious to celebrate passion and luxury. The melting buttery richness of foie gras, complemented with a tart balsamic and raspberry reduction. A crab pasta with a tomato cream sauce, full of chunks of fresh crabmeat, ripe tomatoes and just a hint of cream. A shrimp paella, lavishly scented with the finest Iranian saffron.

Finally, a sweet finish to a life well lived. Desserts that take the bitter and sour in life and turn them sweet. Like lemon meringue pie and bittersweet triple chocolate cake.

Yep, that's what I would cook for my last meals if the world was coming to an end. I can't think of a better way to celebrate life and love than with damn good food.

This time, this place
Misused, mistakes
Too long, too late
Who was I to make you wait
Just one chance
Just one breath
Just in case there's just one left
'Cause you know,
you know, you know

I love you
I loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long
I keep dreaming you'll be with me
and you'll never go
Stop breathing if
I don't see you anymore

On my knees, I'll ask
Last chance for one last dance
'Cause with you, I'd withstand
All of hell to hold your hand
I'd give it all
I'd give for us
Give anything but I won't give up
'Cause you know,
you know, you know

I love you
I loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long
I keep dreaming you'll be with me
and you'll never go
Stop breathing if
I don't see you anymore

Things that go together

There are some things that are meant to go with each other.

Like coffee and cigarettes.

Or strawberries and cream.

Chocolate and raspberries.

Apples and cinnamon.

Even steak and potatoes.

It's like people. Different, but made to complement each other perfectly. But heck, what do I know about people anyway? Weekend musings like this means that I should stick with the stuff I know best, and that would be food.

It's time for a fridge clean-out. Which means it's time for random pairings that hopefully go well together. That, and a rock-out to good music.

This could be the very minute
I'm aware I'm alive
All these places feel like home

With a name I'd never chosen
I can make my first steps
As a child of 25

This is the straw, final straw in the
Roof of my mouth as I lie to you
Just because I'm sorry doesn't mean
I didn't enjoy it at the time

You're the only thing that I love
It scares me more every day
On my knees I think clearer

Goodness knows I saw it coming
Or at least I'll claim I did
But in truth I'm lost for words

What have I done it's too late for that
What have I become truth is nothing yet
A simple mistake starts the hardest time
I promise I'll do anything you ask... this time

Project Gnocchi

Alright... I'm giving this one last shot. Fingers and toes crossed that I don't bomb again.

Since I've never tasted the sweet sweet taste of gnocchi success, I'm trying out this recipe. Hopefully, I will be making gnocchi like an Italian grandmother soon.

Since this is a trial run, I'm going to start with a small batch. This is the final proportions I came to for 2 small servings:

• 225g starchy potatoes
• 1/2 an egg (as a novice, I'll start with a little more)
• 1 cup flour
• Pinch of salt

Although the recipe calls for much less flour, I found the dough to be way to sticky and simply not coming together. So I added more and it seemed to work out just fine.

Right... Boiled the potatoes, mashed them and let them cool. So far, so good.

Spread them out on a floured board, drizzle egg, 3/4 cup flour over and a sprinkle of salt. Then I used a icing knife to scrape and fold, scrape and fold...

Keep adding flour until the dough becomes firm enough to handle, then knead gently. You'll end up with a pretty decent looking ball of dough.

Roll into long strips and cut into 2cm long pieces.

Press the back of a fork into the lumps of dough to make little lines...

At this point, the tension is killing me. Will they hold up? Or fall apart? Or will they be too rubbery? I really can't take the humiliation of defeat AGAIN. My ego is too fragile and may not survive.

I fire up a pot of salted water and as it boils, the suspense mounts...

One lone gnocchi drops into the pot...

As it hits the water, it sinks to the bottom and I'm staring at it intently. It doesn't dissolve... That's a good sign.

I stick a fork into the water and give it a gentle nudge... It holds up ok...

Finally, it floats to the surface, which means it's done.

Tentatively, I fish it out and prepare to give it the taste test. Not much of one since I seldom eat gnocchi, but what the hell.

It's soft with a slight bite to it, with a distinct potato flavour. It's not bad, tastes about right. So, I drop the rest in and toss it with leftover bolognese sauce.

Success! I have conquered the evil potato pillows and am rewarded with dinner. I still don't know why gnocchi is such a big deal. It seems like an awful lot of trouble for something that tastes so subtle. All in all, a rather anti-climactic night. Fuggit... I win and that's all that matters.

Evil potato pillows

I hate gnocchi. Them evil bastards are impossible to make.

They've defeated me once. In the most humiliating way possible. The moment they hit the water, they dissolved like a bad strategy being ripped apart by intelligent people.

Personally, I'm not a big fan of gnocchi. But I take defeat personally... and very, very badly.

I'm going to give it one more try in Project Gnocchi. And, if it doesn't work, I'll never eat gnocchi again because it will mock me with every bite.

If it works, it will be my new favourite food. So there.

Childhood comfort food

This is why I seldom cook Chinese food. The preparation is a pain in the ass that's why. Between Miss Z and myself, we peeled and sliced the Mount Everest of shallots. Why you may ask?

It's the first month into my new Tai-Tai life and frankly, I'm not taking all too well to it. In short, I'm bored, completely out of sorts and not quite sure what to do with myself. There's only so much TV I can watch and golf I can play. Being a Tai-Tai is overrated I say. Although, my swing is getting better.

Anyway, when I'm feeling this disconcerted, I always crave the comfort foods of my childhood. Dishes that my Mum used to make, or foods that my Dad used to love.

The Sunday morning ritual used to be breakfast at Chin Mee Chin, with soft-boiled eggs and homemade nonya kaya slathered on soft buns.

If I pretty-pleased nicely enough, he would take us to eat Beach Road Prawn Mee at East Coast. And please don't ask me why Beach Road Prawn Mee is at East Coast, it never made sense to me either.

And finally.... my favourite weekday dish was Mee Swa Soup. The dish was simple enough, which brings me back to the mountain of shallots.

I'll be re-visiting my childhood favourites, hence the need for massive amounts of fried shallots.

Keep watching this space for Mee Swa Soup, Prawn and Pork Rib Noodle Soup and Nonya Kaya.

Sugar and Spice Almonds

There are some days where I just yearn for comfort and familiarity. Where I want nothing more than to curl up into a ball in front of the TV and snack.

It's funny how sweet and spice come together so well... It's faintly reminiscent of how all of life's ups and downs come together in a way that is totally unexpected.

You will need:

• 250g of almonds (or any other raw nuts)
• 4 tablespoons sugar
• 4 tablespoons water
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon allspice

Boil water and sugar until dissolved into a clear syrup, then add the spices and mix into a well blended paste. Add almonds and stir for 1 minute.

Spread into a single layer on a tray lined with greaseproof paper and toast in a 180C oven for 12 - 15 minutes, then let cool completely.

Break up into clusters and store in an airtight container.

Munchy Lunchy

Joy is a no-cook lunch when the rain eases up. Crusty warm baguette, pork rillettes, sundried tomatoes and a slice of brie. Earthy, rustic and delightfully simple, I'm a real happy bunny right now.

Essence-tials

Essences and extracts lifts an otherwise average dish, just like how travel perks up an otherwise mundane life. I'm sure my upcoming trip to Egypt is going to yield a bonanza of scrummy yummy exotic spices and herbs. The expedition to the Khan El Khalili souk in Cairo is going to be legendary.

On my list is saffron, lavender extract, cardamom, pickled lemons, vanilla beans, anise, whole nutmeg... it might well be endless.

And what's flavour without some colour? My haul from Phoon Huat yesterday included some unusual shades for macarons, and some pretty glittery bling as well.

Cocoa-licious

Happiness is Valhorna 72% Aruguani dark chocolate and dutch-processed cocoa. That, and a shameless shopping trip to Phoon Huat for my baking fix.

I firmly stand behind the fact that chocolate is good for you. And now that the men in white coats have verified that it indeed has anti-oxidants, gives you an endorphine rush and improves performance and mood, my chocolate addiction is now somehow legitimized.

So, 35 buckaroos will bring you good health and happiness. Go forth and indulge!