Recipe: Beef and White Carrot Soup and A Story of family feuds & Old School Food

My father reckons he knows the best places in Kuala Lumpur to eat. The criteria for selection goes beyond just tastiness to include the authentic. His curry laksa place, for example, is located under an old tree in the heart of Pudu . He tucks his handkerchief to the front of his shirt, much like you would at a lobster restaurant, and proceeds to tuck in. Funnily enough, he always seems to get some laksa onto his shirt. But he is a happy man. We have tried to introduce him to new places to eat, that we have discovered on our own. But he usually tells us that our restaurants serve "young people's food," thus, they are not authentic. To him, his "best eats" places have sentimental value - he's been going there for years and years, and has seen the business pass from one generation to the next. I guess you can't put a price tag on that.

There is a famous chain of chicken rice shops that are now found in almost every mall in KL. I don't need to reveal the name here, but according to my father, the original was founded many years ago in Petaling Street. The story is that there was a family feud and one of the brothers (or uncles, I can't remember) decided to leave the family business and start his own stall, two or three shops down. The latter's stall eventually became the chain that we see in malls today.

I remember the joint being stuffy, hot with sticky tiled floors. But on most Sundays, we would go there as a family for lunch, where my father would order the same thing - half a chicken, a bowl of choy keok (or chai boey as it is known here) and unlike other chicken rice stalls which give you MSG-laden chicken broth with a couple of spring onions floating in there, this place serves you white carrot soup with beef chunks. I once asked my father why we couldn't just go to the other stall which at least appeared cleaner and had air conditioning. He said simply, "that one not authentic."

I was thinking of that old chicken rice stall the other day and wanted to recreate the soup which we as a family once shared on Sundays. Here is my approximation.

Ingredients:

1 beef shin

300 g beef tendon (optional)

1 white carrot, cut into chunks

1 3 inch slice of ginger

1 small slice of dried squid

A handful of red dates, soaked before hand to soften

1 tiny piece of tangerine peel (optional)

1 litre beef stock

Salt and pepper

Chinese parsley (optional)

Skimming the scum of the soup produces a clearer soup

Blanch the beef shin and tendon in boiling water for 3 minutes. Drain and set aside. In a deep pot, bring the beef stock to boil together with the beef shin and tendon. Boil on high heat for ten minutes, skimming off the scum from the surface. Lower heat, cover and boil for about an hour. Using a pair of thongs, take out the meat and when cool enough to handle, slice into large chunks. Return the meat to the pot and add all your other ingredients, season, and boil over low heat, covered for an additional 45 minutes to an hour.

Garnish with Chinese parsley leaves, if desired, and serve hot.

This one is for you, dad.

Recipe: Warm rocket and baby spinach salad with seared scallops and bacon

The great thing about salads is that they are one of the most versatile meals to prepare. The chef is at liberty to mix and match the components that go into the salad according to the preferences of his/her guests. I had the pleasure of the company of one of my best friends in Singapore, G, yesterday. G shares my love for Italian food, dogs and movies. She also has some of the cutest expressions to describe everyday phenomena among anyone I know.

Let me illustrate. We were shopping for dinnerware for last year's Christmas party. She asked why we couldn't use the existing ones that I have which are quite frankly rather shabby.

Me: It's important that they all match.

G: Yeah, so they have to be a bit atas-lah.

Me: I guess the ones I have are a bit bawah.

"Atas" being the Malay world for Up or upper, as opposed to "bawah" or down.

Anyways, G was a little under the weather so I decided a simple meal of soup and salad was probably best.

This salad is an adaptation of a Jamie Oliver original. The combination of the sweetness from the slightly charred red onions, the bitterness from the rocket, the saltiness from the bacon and the tartness from the balsamic vinegar makes this not just tasty, but visually appealing. Key to the success of this dish is speed and concentration. I do not recommend making this dish while you are multi tasking. The wild mushroom soup I had on the other burner suffered neglect, for example, as I let too much of the liquid evaporate and it ended up a bit salty by the time I got to it. So give this dish your all, and you will be rewarded with what is, in my opinion, quite a classy, atas dish.

Serves 2-3 as a starter

Ingredients:

1 pack of wild rocket leaves

1 pack of baby spinach leaves

3 medium sized red onions, cut into wedges

4 nos. sundried tomatoes in oil, sliced thinly

A handful of pinenuts

2-3 sticks of thyme

2 pieces of streaky bacon

4-5 scallops per person, drained and patted dry with paper towels

Extra virgin olive oil

The best quality balsamic vinegar you have

Sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper

A few sprinkles of Parmesan (optional)

Method:

Heat a non-stick skillet on medium-high with about two tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil. In the meantime, season your scallops with seasoning of your choice (for example, cajun seasoning, lemon and pepper, etc. I used Montreal steak seasoning). Place your salad leaves in a large bowl. When hot, add bacon to the pan and cook until crisp. Remove and drain on paper towels. Crumble into pieces. Add to the pan the scallops and shake them around. Cook until they turn opaque, dish up and keep warm. (Don't overcook - you want your scallops succulent and just done) Now throw in your thyme sprigs, and red onions and season with sea salt and black pepper. (Remember that your bacon and scallops are already salted, so don't be too liberal). After about three-five minutes add in your pine nuts, stir around. Working quickly, tip the onions, thyme and pine nuts into the salad bowl. Add your sun dried tomatoes. Drizzle some balsamic vinegar and additional extra virgin olive oil if necessary. Toss around to wilt a little and season to taste.

Presentation - Divide salad among plates, garnish with bacon bits and a sprinkling of Pamersan and top with scallops. Serve immediately.

Pilot: Unlearning rigidity

I never realised how set I was in my ways until July last year, when I moved 400 km away from the Kuala Lumpur that had been my own for most (give or take) of my life. After deferring my decision to do my Masters for five years, I decided it was time to leave my career. It's not as if life stands still - there was a whole lot of working, learning, playing and loving in between. The decision to go back to school was made in light of the fact that I was quickly approaching thirty, after which point, in my analysis I would most likely never do it. It was a decision to improve myself, and one which I don't regret.

But back to my original point. I always envisioned my life as a linear forward projection. I didn't realise how much I had become accustomed to living in my own space, setting my own rules, until I moved here and moved in with my younger brother. The first few weeks were sort of a honeymoon period, I guess, because we were both being mindful of each other. And then our true selves were revealed. I discovered, much to my horror, that we had vastly different notions about cleanliness and keeping common spaces neat. One week, we had decided that I would vacuum and mop the floors while he would do the bathrooms. I peeked in the bathroom to see him standing at the edge, holding the bidet and spraying water pretty much indiscriminately all around. After about three minutes he said, "Ok. Clean what."

So these days, in between disciplining myself to sit for three hours to listen to my octogenarian professor (bless his soul) lecture about the imperatives of urban planning, and learning the whats, whys and hows of public policy, I cook. Listening to french music, sipping my glass of wine, and whipping out things from scratch helps me heal. Literally. I feel good. In the kitchen you quickly learn that you can't follow everything by the book - cooking just doesn't work that way. So I guess it's about unlearning rigidity. Some days my time in the kitchen seems to be the only thing which vaguely resembles my life in KL. And my brother, for all the things that annoy me about him, eats. And that makes it seem all okay.