Showing posts with label vegetables. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vegetables. Show all posts

Thursday, November 4, 2010

x3 the time, x10 the heartache - Recipe: Vegetable Pie with Lentils and Mashed Potato Topping

The birthday boy, one year to date

In class earlier this week, my professor, in reference to the economic concept of "moral hazards" remarked that the rule of thumb for remodeling was "twice the time, and three times the money." It made me think of the situation I have experienced for the last two months trying to get my internet connection set up at home. Four trips to the Orange sales shop, 1 hour 22 minutes and 35 seconds over the phone and four "rendezvous" with different technicians later, I have discovered that doing business in France is "thrice the time and ten times the heartache". An illustration is in order:

Technician 1: Yes yes yes, I will fix today.
(15 minutes later) Technician 1: Oh sorry, your line is not turned on. You must wait.
Me: How long? I've waited for 1 week already! The man at the shop said 4 days!
Technician 1: Yes, he shouldn't have said that. That is bad. Normally it takes up to ten days.

Ten days later...
Technician 2: Your line is not turned on.
Me: But you said 10 days! See this paper over here (gesturing to Technician 1's report)
Technician 2: That technician is only for installation. He doesn't know anything.

Two weeks later...
Technician 3: Yes, I fix today. For sure.
Me: Thank you! I've waited for so long already!
Technician 3: Yes, no problem.
(Half hour later)
Technician 3: You have a big problem.
Me: What? You said no problem! You said you'd fix it today!
Technician 3: Yes, but now there is a big problem. The problem is outside. So that is not my department. Another technician will come and fix the outside.
Me: When?!
Technician 3: Monday. Tuesday. Maybe.

Needless to say, at some point, I was so frustrated that I had the urge to cut all the telephone lines in my neighbourhood with pliers.

View from Pont Neuf at dusk, Nov 2010

Cooper's birthday dinner

While I've been in Internet exile, of course, time has not stood still. The leaves have since changed colours, and the city has taken on a completely different feel than when I first arrived at the tail end of summer. I have had many wonderful adventures in Paris - discovering new neighbourhoods, finding a pig's head at the market, complete with all its hair, eyes and nostrils, trying new restaurants with friends and having them over for dinner. And yesterday, Cooper turned one. It's hard for me to imagine that it really was a year ago that I first laid eyes on him and knew that he belonged with me, and it's almost impossible to imagine life without "the nipper," though I have to say I would save a lot on stationery expenses (see above of the hijacking of my pencil).

Below is a recipe for a simple and yummy vegetable pie, which I recently made for my friend. It is a meat-free version of cottage pie, if you like. The lentils add texture to the stew and a dash of Worcestershire sauce adds depth to the sauce. Serve this with a simple salad and bread if you like.



Ingredients (serves 3-4)
2 tbs vegetable oil
1 onion, finely chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
1 large carrot, chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
125 g button mushrooms, wiped clean and sliced
2 tbs sundried tomato pesto
2 tsps Worcestershire sauce
1 cup (250ml) tomato passata (sieved tomatoes)
1 bay leaf
1 tbs chopped thyme or 1 tsp dried Herbes de Provence
1 cup (250ml) vegetable stock
400g can lentils, rinsed, drained
800g potatoes, peeled, chopped
100g unsalted butter
1/2 cup (125ml) soy milk for cooking or regular milk
100g grated soy or cheese of your choice
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper of your choice

Method
Preheat the oven to 200°C. In a large pan, heat oil over medium heat and cook onion for 1-2 minutes. Add celery, carrot and garlic and cook for 1 minute. Add mushrooms, season lightly and fry gently until they have just released their liquid. Add pesto, Worcestershire sauce, passata, bay, thyme and stock.
Simmer gently for 15 minutes until vegetables are cooked. Stir in lentils and season, then transfer to a lightly-greased 1.2-litre baking dish. Meanwhile, cook potatoes in boiling salted water until tender.
Drain and mash. Stir in butter, and milk and season to taste. Spread over lentil mixture and roughen top with a fork. Sprinkle cheese over the top.
Bake for 15 minutes or until bubbling and golden.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

More Asian than in Asia? – Recipe: Drunkard Noodles


In addition to being Internetless for the past month and a half, my blogging has been stalled by the everyday routines of maintaining a home, seule, plus keeping up with a pile of readings that seem to be extending upwards toward the heavens with no end in sight. But seeing as I was recently surprised by a gift from a dear, dear, friend, sent from the humid and heat-blessed streets of Singapore, which consisted of a most lovely set of chopsticks and matching dog (gasp!) chopstick rests, I thought I would dedicate this post to my new found Asian-ness.
The way to a woman's heart...through all things canine


For sure, I’ve never been one to consider myself inherently “Asian” both in terms of outlook and tastes– for example, I’ve never been away on vacation for weeks and found myself missing rice or a particular place in my home country. Nor do I feel that my views, especially my political opinions, conform to the mainstream. Yet there is no doubt that growing up in Southeast Asia has shaped my perception of the world, in ways I’m always finding predictable, on the one hand, and surprising, on the other. You will never find me, for example,  ever walking in front of a television set (no matter how big the damn screens are these days) while someone else is watching something without first excusing myself for interrupting them and bending forward so as to not block their view (thank you, Assunta!)  And how funny it is, that my Southeast Asian friends here are the only ones that will sit cross-legged on the floor and use the lounge chairs as a “table” for our laptops instead of our actual laps.   A friend of mine recently coyly teased that I seemed more Asian than back when I was actually in Asia – she judged this, for example, by how my face lights up when we plan a trip to the Asian Quarter here in Paris, or how I inadvertently nod in greeting when I see another Asian walking by through the streets of Paris. The other day, I found myself saying, “Look, honey, one of my kind!”

Chalk it up to old age, homesickness, the inability to find anything even remotely vegan in a proper French restaurant, or simply being injected into an environment in which I find, for the first time in my life, I am no longer able to either express myself or understand what others are saying to me, I do seem perhaps more aware of my own cultural differences here. My newfound Asian-ness seems to have manifested, among other things in i) me adopting an ever softer tone of voice when conversing here, even in broken French, ii) a mad craving for spicy food and chilli padi,, iii) the inexplicable obligation I feel to defend Lee Kuan Yew when people comment about the lack of democracy and human rights in Singapore and Asia in general!  and iv) confronting my dinner at a restaurant, thinking to myself how the bland, blanched dish of nappy-textured vegetables in front of me would be just that more palatable had I just a dash of soy sauce at my disposal.

Drunkard noodles is a dish that I discovered on the menus of Thai restaurants in Boston some ten years ago. It goes superbly with drinks, particularly beer, much like Korean/Japanese bar food.  I never quite found a comparison in Thailand, but I do love the spicy, peppery, and savoury blend of the base sauce with the rice noodles and vegetables. I managed to find fresh sen yai noodles, whose counterpart is the humble kuey teow in Malaysia and Singapore, as well as Thai holy basil, both of which I feel make a real difference in the results of the dish. The sen yai noodles are chewier and more malleable than kuey teow, so you are able to cook it and mix it with the rest of the ingredients without everything turning into a pulpy mash. The other ingredients which I feel are a must for this dish is kalian or Chinese kale and capsicum. You can make this with chicken, pork, shrimp or beef instead of tofu, as long as you stir-fry the meats separately before the vegetables. Tonight I was also able to cut down quite a bit on the amount of oil I used by using a good quality non-stick skillet. The list of ingredients may seem long, but the whole meal was prepared in just half an hour.

Ingredients:
300 g fresh sen yai noodles (substitute kuey teow if desired, but cut down cooking time)
2 tbsp vegetable oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
2-3 shallots, minced
1 slice young ginger
1-2 green chilli, chopped
2 tbsp oil
1 block firm tofu, deep fried until golden brown and cut into cubes
4 button mushrooms, sliced
4 stalks Chinese chives, sliced into 2 inch pieces
½ red capsicum, sliced thinly
4 ears baby corn, cut into thirds
150 g Chinese kale, leaves and stems separated and washed thoroughly
1/2 carrot, cut into thin slices
2 spring onions, cut into 2 inch pieces
Large handful of beansprouts
6-8 cherry tomatoes, halved
1-2 tbsp of chilli boh/paste
General handful of Thai holy basil leaves
Sesame oil to drizzle
Lime wedges and chopped coriander leaves to serve

Sauce:
2 tbsp oyster sauce
1 tbsp soy sauce
½ tsp sugar
½ tsp black pepper
2 tbsp water

Heat oil in a non-stick skillet until hot. Add ginger slice, shallots, garlic, and chopped green chilli and fry, stirring constantly, until fragrant, about 2-3 minutes. Add mushrooms, tofu, chives, baby corn and capsicum and fry for another 5 minutes. Add chilli boh paste, kalian, carrot and fry for another 2-3 minutes or until slightly soft (Sprinkle in some water at this stage if mixture seems to dry.) To the hot pan, add noodles, as well as beansprouts, cherry tomatoes and spring onions. Working quickly,  add sauce ingredients and toss well to mix. When noodles are just pliable, drizzle sesame oil over the top and add basil leaves. Mix well. Adjust seasoning and serve piping hot with lime wedges and chopped coriander leaves.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Allô Allô – Recipe: Stuffed Vegetables with a Quinoa Filling





In one of my previous posts, I described the difficulty I was facing learning French. Since arriving in Paris, I’ve felt like I’ve been navigating through a very thick and persistent fog. Well, at least a fog of nasally French. The first week, I completely clammed up. To my dismay, everything I had learned at Alliance Francaise seemed to have gone down the toilet, and I felt utterly confused, lost and/or misunderstood. Let me try to illustrate what was going through my head:

Waiter: Bonjour, mademoiselle. ...(and then he goes on)...
In my mind: @!$%^&!!*&^%$@#@!!!@#%^*(@)!@!%%$#@. HELP!

Le Restaurant at Musee d'Orsay, great dining experience if only they understood what I was saying

It is true that Paris has gotten more cosmopolitan and a little friendlier in recent times, but from what I have observed so far, the French take great pride in their language, and are rather reluctant to reveal that they do in fact understand English. For example, last week I caught the salesman at the mobile shop in the act when he responded to something I was asking my friend next to me in English, even though he vehemently insisted he couldn’t speak Anglais. What this means is that it’s really up to me to learn the language, and learn it fast, or give up and spend this year never really immersing myself in the culture and lifestyle of Paris. I’m bent on the former – I do not want to be the perpetual tourist. So each day, I’ve been reciting phrases from my trusty French language pocket book, just before bed and while eating breakfast. The French are much more receptive, I’ve figured out, if you at least try to fumble through with a spattering of French. It doesn’t always work, but I think they feel rather sorry for me, and are more likely to reciprocate by offering me a few words in English. In any case, I have committed to memory what is surely going to be THE  phrase I will be using while I’m here: “je désolé, je ne parle pas Francais. Parlez vous Anglais?”

Ah, but last week I hit a spot of light – I don’t quite know what changed, but suddenly I began to understand what people were saying to me, or more accurately, a couple of sentences here and there. It’s still mighty foggy, but I sort of feel like I’ve had a glimpse of the lighthouse now and I’m no longer afraid I’m going to sail into the abyss.

Man on the street: Bonjour mademoiselle...(and then he goes on)...
In my mind: @!$%^&!!*&^%$@#@!!!@#%^*(@)!@!%%$#@ Petite chien (your small dog) @!$%^&!! Jolee (pretty) *&^%$@#@!!!@#%^*(@)!@!%%$#@ Tu s’appelle (What’s his name?) *&^%$@#@!!!@#%^*(@)!@!%%$#@ Quel age (what’s his age?).

And I verbalise something like this: Bonjour, err, Hi......err, Cooper......errr.....dix (10)....errr...months, err what is months in French?

I’m by no means proud of myself, of course, and far from a model student of the French language. I continue to disgrace myself on a regular basis as I go about my business in the neighbourhood. Just the other day, I mistakenly thought the grocer was talking to me, to which I responded, when he was in fact, doing something quite different.

Grocer: Allô, Allô
Me (excitedly): Hello!
Grocer (with indignation): Pah! Not you, I’m asking my worker to answer ze telephone.
Allô, Allô not hello!
Me: Oh, sorry... How much for these strawberries?

Alamak! :) 



I’ve always liked stuffed vegetables – they look lovely, and are a shoo-in for dinner parties. Many types of vegetables can be made to be natural “receptacles” for fillings – whether eggplants, mushrooms, capsicums or zucchini – as long as they have a relatively sturdy skin and rather supple flesh, they should work. I was stoked to discover quinoa and soy cheese at a health food store this weekend. Being quinoa-based, this recipe, partly Middle Eastern, partly Mediterranean -inspired, is a healthy and delicious way to meet your essential fibre and protein needs. Essentially quinoa can be treated like rice both in terms of pre-cooking preparation and the cooking process itself. Wash it in a couple of changes of water and remove grit, and use about 1 cup quinoa to 1 ½ cups of water. Here I used eggplant and green capsicum to stuff and added a bit of ground coriander for a subtle touch of spice. Baking the vegetables first covered with aluminium foil achieves two things – it helps to keep the stuffing moist and soften the vegetables without the need for additional breadcrumbs or sauce.  Serve this dish with lightly sautéed greens of your choice.


Pack the stuffing into the vegetable shells using the back of a metal spoon

Ingredients:

  • 3/4 cup uncooked quinoa
  • 1/2 head garlic
  • 2 small eggplants or 1 medium plus 1 medium green capsicum for stuffing
  • 2 to 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
  • 1 medium onion, peeled and finely chopped
  • 1 red bell capsicum, cored, seeded, and cut into 1/4-inch dice
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 1 teaspoon coriander powder
  • Lemon zest from 1 lemon, finely grated
  • 1/4 cup low-fat ricotta cheese or vegan substitute
  • 1/4 cup roughly chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley, plus more for garnish
  • 125 g cherry tomatoes, chopped roughly
  • Extra virgin olive oil to drizzle
Heat oven to 200 degrees Celsius. Place garlic in a piece of aluminium foil, drizzle a bit of extra virgin olive oil over, and wrap to make a parcel. Bake in the oven until cloves are soft, 20 to 30 minutes. Let cool, and squeeze the soft garlic from the cloves, mash into a pulp and set aside.
Meanwhile, cook quinoa according to package ingredients. (It should take between 10-20 minutes). Stand for 10 minutes, fluff with a fork and leave to cool for a bit.
Cut the eggplants in half lengthwise, and place the halves cut sides up on a cutting board. Using a paring knife, cut around the perimetre, leaving a 1/3-inch-wide border and being careful not to cut through skin. Cutting down through flesh, cut lengthwise into 1/4-inch-wide strips. Using a teaspoon, scoop out the strips, keeping skin intact. Cut strips into 1/4-inch dice. Set both the diced eggplant and shells aside. Halve the capsicums, scoop out white membranes and discard seeds.

In a large skillet set over medium heat, warm 2 tablespoons olive oil. Add onion, and cook, stirring occasionally, until soft and slightly browned, 4 to 6 minutes. Add eggplant, bell pepper, coriander, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon black pepper. Cover; cook, stirring occasionally, until browned, 6 to 8 minutes. If mixture starts to become dry, add the additional tablespoon olive oil. Lower heat and add quinoa. Mix well.

Add lemon zest, cheese, parsley, remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt, and remaining 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Stir to combine.

Fill each reserved vegetable shell with quinoa mixture. Cover with aluminium foil, give the dish an ever so light drizzle of extra virgin olive oil. Bake until warm throughout and shell has softened, 20 to 25 minutes. Remove foil, and continue cooking until tops are lovely and toasted,  a further 20 minutes or so. Remove from oven. Sprinkle with parsley, and serve.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Downsizing– Recipe: Pasta Primavera


I’ve decided that it’s no fun cooking for one. Not only are you boxed in terms of choices of what you can buy at the grocery store, since there is only so much one person can eat, it’s also awfully boring. My dinner table is at the heart of much of my social life. Around it, I gather the people I cherish and share with them the “fruits of my labour” –new homes are blessed, sick ones nurtured, Christmas toasted to, birthdays celebrated.  It makes for such a vastly different dining experience.  After cooking for company for so many years, and for one famished, gym-going brother, in particular, I’ve become so accustomed to buying enough for family sized meals that it’s almost automatic. Tonight, for instance, I inadvertently made enough pasta for 4 “me’s”, which means I’m stuck eating the same thing for dinner (and cold at that, since I don’t have a microwave) for the rest of the week! 

Although I’ve only been here for a week or so, I can feel the seasons changing. It’s starting to get quite chilly in the evenings, and my thin cotton shorts are no longer sufficient to keep me warm at night. Sigh. I miss my hot water bottle. Cooper, too, is learning to adjust to the weather, for example, by curling up in a tight little ball (but not before coming to my side of the bed to try to get me to pick him up and cuddle with him) and tucking his paws under his sweater in his doggy bed. 

Can you really say no to this face?

Pasta Primavera is a great way to capitalise on fresh seasonal vegetables.  Often made with a tomato base , especially in the US, it can also be absolutely delightful with a light broth and some flavoured olive oil during the Spring. What you want to ensure is that you have a nice contrast of colours – red, green, orange, purple – and that you cook the vegetables so that they are just done, and not soggy. Start with the vegetables that take longer, for example, eggplant and capsicum, before adding those that need to be cooked ala minute such as broccoli, French beans or zucchini.  Note however that the estimated cooking times below are for my new continental stove, which looks sleek and sexy, but I’ve discovered, takes forever to cook anything (no char kuey teow from this kitchen, that’s for sure).  For a spicy kick, add a teaspoon or so of some red pepper flakes and fresh basil for unbeatable flavour.

Serves 3-4 (or 1 lone ranger with ample leftovers)

Ingredients:
250 g spaghetti or linguine
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 medium brown onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
Pinch of red pepper flakes (optional)
About 4 cups of vegetables in season, for example:
1/2 small eggplant, cubed
150 g button mushrooms, sliced
½ red, yellow or green capsicum, core removed and cut into long strips
1 small head of broccoli, cut into florets
1 small carrot, cut into desired shapes
A handful of cherry tomatoes

1 bay leaf
1 tsp dried oregano
1 large handful of fresh basil leaves, chopped (substitute 1-2 tsp dried basil)
½ cup dry white wine
1 x 400g pasta sauce of your choice (for example: Marinara or Napolitana) 
Freshly cracked black pepper and sea salt to taste
Red pepper flakes and Parmesan cheese to serve (optional)

Fill large stock pot with water, salt generously and bring to the boil.

In the meanwhile, heat non-stick skillet or a large sauté pan over medium-high heat. Add olive oil and swirl to coat. Saute’ onion and garlic until fragrant, about 3-4 minutes. Add hardy vegetables such as eggplant and mushrooms, season lightly while adding to the pan the red pepper flakes, if using. After about 5 minutes, add the broccoli and carrot followed by about ½ cup of white wine. Bring to a boil, and then add bay leaf, oregano and half of the basil leaves. When mixture has been slightly reduced, pour in pasta sauce, adjust seasoning and simmer of low heat for another 5-10 minutes until vegetables are fork-tender and the sauce has thickened slightly. 

At this stage, cook pasta according to package ingredients. Drain and return to the pot.

Just before serving, add cherry tomatoes to the pasta sauce and stir well. Toss pasta with the sauce and garnish with extra red pepper flakes, Parmesan and chopped basil leaves, if desired.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Recipe: Summer Minestrone with Pesto

The Cameron Highlands, home to some of the most beautiful highlands forests in the world


Whew - it's been a busy summer, and I've spent most of it outside of Singapore. Of the many beautiful places there are in Malaysia, I have a soft spot for the Cameron Highlands. With its rolling hills of tea plantations, waterfalls and highland forests, my family and I have often sought refuge at one of the colonial bungalows owned by a friend of the family. Cameron Highlands is also a green bowl, supplying vegetables, flowers and fruit to the Malaysian and Singaporean markets. I recently volunteered with one of the NGOs that has been fighting overdevelopment and pollution in the area for many years. It was a programme to teach school teachers how to monitor the quality of the water from streams and rivers in the area. I was horrified to discover that the farms, no longer small-scale, family sized operations, but mega commercial enterprises, are still leaching poisonous chemicals such as DDT as well as human and animal excrement directly into the water sources. It saddened me to see how much the Cameron Highlands has been destroyed over the years as a result of unsustainable development and badly planned tourism. To find out how you can help preserve the Camerons, visit the website of R.E.A.C.H.


With the summer almost over, I decided to make a delightfully light and refreshing minestrone using the best seasonal vegetables I could find. It comes together fairly easily and is a lovely alternative to the heavier, tomato-based minestrone soups you get at most restaurants. You want to make sure that the vegetables are crisp tender, so be sure to add the ingredients in the order given. I made a batch of pesto which you can stir into the soup or add a dollop over the top. Fresh basil is the main herb used.

Ingredients:
2 tbsp butter or margarine
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 medium leek, chopped and washed in several changes of water
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 medium brown onion, cubed
1 medium carrot, cubed
1 stalk celery, sliced thinly
2 slender and vine-ripened plum tomatoes, peeled, seeded and cubed
1 medium Russet potato, cubed
1/2 head small cabbage, cut into small pieces
1 small zucchini, cubed
50g small pasta shapes (such as shells or elbow macaroni)
100 g snow peas, trimmed and stringed
1/4 cup canned kidney or cannellini  beans, rinsed
1 1/2 litres clear vegetable stock
1 stalk basil, leaves removed and shredded
1 bay leaf
Sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper to taste

Maintain a gentle simmer to ensure even cooking

In a large stock pot, melt butter over medium heat. Add olive oil. Sweat the leak, onion and garlic gently for about 2 minutes. Add carrot, celery and tomatoes and fry for 2 minutes. Pour in the stock, add the basil and the bay leaf and season to taste. When the soup comes to a boil, add potatoes and cabbage and simmer gently for 10 minutes. Add pasta and simmer for another 8 minutes or until pasta is al dente. Finally stir in zucchini, snow peas and beans. Serve hot with pesto and crusty bread on the side. Garnish with chopped parsley if desired.

Basil Pesto:

4 handfuls of fresh basil leaves (from about 3 large bunches)
1/2 cup olive oil
1/3 cup pine nuts
4 garlic cloves
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese (optional)
1/4 cup freshly grated pecorino cheese (optional)
1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
1/2 tsp freshly cracked black pepper
Freshly chopped parsley leaves (optional)

Toast pine nuts in a dry skillet until lightly brown. Remove to a plate to cool. In a blender, combine the basil, olive oil, pine nuts and garlic cloves and blend until you get a smooth paste. Add the cheese if using, salt and pepper and blitz everything together in the blender for another 3 seconds. Transfer to a small bowl


Wednesday, July 14, 2010

A Poem from Morocco - Recipe: Couscous with Moroccan Vegetable and Chickpea Stew

There are stories that end before starting by Abdel-ilah Salhi

Emotion is a mangy dog
Biting me to howl like ninety percent of the mean people in this city
The dog defeats the wolf inside me


Plenty of sentences failed me at dinner
The remains of your man hovered over us despite the dim light
I had to quietly drink my glass
And stare at you profoundly, though without concentration
I had to refrain from running at the rough turning
Which makes me feel small, now expecting a phone ring


Good wine
And a delicious Moroccan couscous
You were close at hand like the evening party
The heart landed like a repugnant guest, so I stammered
But your case was very  mild indeed


In stead of assaulting you like a wolf from the forest
I licked your hand like a dog wishing for love


As they say, variety is the spice of life, and I try to cook food of different origins throughout the week. Together with my fascination for poetry from the Arabic world, I first started experimenting with couscous when I was back in the US and instantly fell in love with its light, fluffy texture. Originally a food from the Middle East and North Africa, it is now sold throughout the world and served not just as the main starch for supper, but as a side salad and turned into desert. After a few disasters with instant-meal couscous that turned into hard blobs because of the humidity in Southeast Asia, I buy the plain, fast-cook variety and do all the seasoning and cooking myself. One of my favourite ways of preparing it, offered below, is by using the broth from a spicy vegetable stew to cook the grains. I find that the broth does a fantastic job of flavouring the couscous without the use of additional oil or salt.

Serves 3-4

For the stew:

Spices:
1 cinnamon stick
4 cloves
1/2 tsp tumeric
1 tsp ground cumin
2 tsp ground coriander
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper


1 medium brown onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 tsp minced ginger root
1 small eggplant, cut into wedges and soaked in salted water for half an hour to remove bitter juices
1medium carrot, cut into wedges
1 medium potato, cut into wedges
10 green beans, sliced into thirds
1/4 head of a medium cauliflower, cut into florets
1 small zucchini, cut into wedges
2 plum tomatoes, cut into wedges
1/4 cooked chickpeas
3 cups of light vegetable stock
2 tbsp oil
Sea salt and freshly cracked pepper to taste

For the couscous:
1 1/2 cups fast-cook couscous
1 large handful of raisins
2-3 tbsp pine nuts, toasted lightly
Extra virgin olive oil
Chopped coriander to garnish

Heat oil in a non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. Gently fry the cinnamon stick, cloves, onions, garlic and ginger until fragrant, about five minutes or so. Add turmeric, cumin, coriander, and cayenne pepper and fry for an additional 2 minutes. Add vegetable stock and bring to a rolling boil. Add eggplant, carrot and potato, cover and lower heat to a gentle simmer. After about 10 minutes or so or when vegetables are slightly softened, add cauliflower, green beans, zucchini and tomatoes. Simmer until vegetables are tender. Add chickpeas. Adjust seasoning.

Measure about 1 1/2 cups of broth from the stew and pour into a separate saucepan. Bring to a boil. Stir in couscous, raisins and pine nuts, cover and remove from heat. Leave to stand for 5 minutes. Fluff up the couscous with a fork and drizzle a little extra virgin olive oil over the top. Garnish with chopped coriander. Serve warm, with mounds of the vegetable stew on the side.


Monday, June 21, 2010

Are Baby Vegetables Better? - Recipe: Simple Stir-Fried Greens, Chinese style

Stir-fried baby lai pak with button mushrooms

Shopping at Fair Price Finest or Cold Storage here in Singapore, I get the dual sensation of feeling like on the one hand, I could be at any supermarket in the UK, and on the other, right in the heart of Southeast Asia. I've often been amazed at the sheer variety of vegetables that are available here in Singapore. The vast majority of food here, or over 90% is imported. I was talking to B the other day about how I was momentarily excited when I saw a bag of "Earthbound Organic" salad at the store. And then it (and its hefty price tag) hit me that while it was being sold as the environmentally benign choice for eco-aware consumers, in reality, that salad alone probably had chalked up a carbon footprint larger than all the local vegetables (heck, perhaps even combined with the fruit) on the shelves combined. According to one source, a bag of salad that is flown from Washington D.C. has traveled an estimated 9659 miles (15541km) to make it to your store in Singapore, emitting 3477 kgCO2 or 949 kg Carbon. Food for thought, indeed. 

Bicycles were previously a main mode of transporting cargo through the busy streets of Southeast Asia...and are now making a revival in certain cities in the US.
Chinatown, Singapore, 2010

With the expansion in the Chinese economy, there has been a large increase in the numbers and types of Asian greens from China. I do love my leafy greens, and one of the interesting trends these days is that you can find a "baby" or a miniature version of any vegetable at the market, for example baby kailan, baby bok choy, baby spinach, baby potato, baby carrot and so on.  But what exactly are baby vegetables? More importantly, are they necessarily better both in terms of taste as well as nutrition? A cursory search on the internet reveals that they are not, as commonly perceived, necessarily vegetables that are picked before they are fully mature or ripe. Rather they are often specially engineered crops that are cultivated for a specific reason, for example, size. While they are almost always more expensive than their regular sized counterparts, nutritionally they are the same.  I do admit that they are cute and also slightly more delicate in terms of taste and texture, but I find that the difference is minimal. So the jury's still out as far as I'm concerned. For me the far bigger question I suppose is where and how they were grown and harvested, and the times of pesticides and chemicals that were used on the farm. 

If you're going to be cooking Asian food, learning the basics of the simple stir-fry is absolutely essential. (For more wok tips, see previous entry on Chinese fried rice). Yet many people have complained that their attempts at stir-frying vegetables have met with failure because the vegetables have either been undercooked or too wilted. So here I am sharing with you a basic recipe and a few tips on stir-frying greens that I learned from my mother and my own experience as a home chef. This recipe does not have a rich sauce or gravy such as you would find in the dish Broccoli with Oyster Sauce that is often served in Chinese restaurants, thus is best paired with a more substantial meat or saucy tofu dish.

Serves 2-3 as a side dish

1 bunch leafy vegetable such as kai lan, bok choy, mustard greens/sawi, siew pak choy, sweet potato leaves,Chinese cabbage, usually sold in bundles of about 300 g each
2-3 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed lightly
2 tbsp of  vegetable oil such as olive or canola
1/4 cup light vegetable stock
1 tsp Chinese rice wine
1-2 tsp soy sauce
Dash sugar and pepper (optional)

Wash vegetables in a basin in several changes of water. Drain and keep aside. Heat wok over high heat. Add oil and swirl to coat. Add garlic and stir-fry briskly until fragrant. Working quickly, add vegetables, one handful at a time, and toss, waiting for each batch to wilt slightly before adding a new batch. Sprinkle a few drops of stock into the wok with each addition to maintain a steady heat. When all vegetables have been added, add remaining stock, rice wine, soy sauce and sugar and pepper if using and cover the wok with a lid. Lower the heat to medium and let the mixture simmer. Lift the cover of the wok after a minute or so, and stir everything around before returning the cover and simmering for another 2-3 minutes or until vegetables are just tender crisp. Remove from heat and serve immediately.

Tips:
  • You can build upon this basic recipe by adding additional vegetables such as carrots, mushrooms, baby corn, snow peas - anything you like really. The trick is to ensure that you put in the vegetables that take the longest to cook first, and the leafy vegetables which only need a minute or so to wilt, last. For example, if you want to create a spinach mushroom stir-fry, you are going to need about 3-4 minutes for your mushrooms and under a minute for the spinach.
  • You can substitute thinly sliced ginger for the garlic. Or use both. 
  • Many chefs like to use a little ikan bilis stock for frying vegetables.
  • Use a wok for superior results and get it really hot before you add the vegetables. If the wok is not hot enough the vegetables will not only be oily but will steam, and you will not get the tender-crisp texture that you are looking for in a good stir-fry.
  • One of the things that I learnt from my mother about estimating when the time is right to lift the wok cover and give the vegetables a quick stir. I've tried this method myself, and it's fairly accurate. When you cover the vegetables for the first time, place your bare hand on the handle of the wok. When it starts to feel a bit uncomfortable from the heat, lift up the cover and stir around! Repeat as necessary. Not recommended for the faint hearted. 
Baby Siew Pak Choy...does that make it Baby Baby Pak Choy?

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Misadventures in the French Language - Recipe: Le Tian de legumes a la Provencale

In preparation for the upcoming move to Paris, I've just signed up for French language classes at Alliance de Franchaise de Singapour, together with my girlfriend, S. It's been quite a ride, as my poor instructor, Pierre can attest. Languages are one of those things that are so much harder to do when you're an adult! The French language is complicated, what with its insistence on gendering everything, its funny characters and lack of an ordered, systematic set of rules (though on the last point, Pierre said, "Ah, but the Eengglish languahge eez de sayme, no?) He was not moved by my appeal: "Yes, but at least I understand it!" And of course, my mind, wants to remember only what it wants to memorise. So aside from names of food, as well as a long list of ballet terms that I learned from the many years I danced (not that that's going to help me much, sadly), I can now say a range of sentences that revolve around my dog, of all things. But I've made progress, I think, as the following illustration will show:

This was me during my first lesson:
Pierre: Ow doo yooou zay, I avve a male dogg?
Me: I know! Je ..erm...suis ...un chien! 
Pierre: Non. Dat eez, I am a dogg.
Me: Oh, crap.

End of first week:
Pierre: Alorr, Ow doo yooou zay, I avve a male dogg?
Me: Je suis...oh s*it, I mean...J'ai...erm, unne chien.
Pierre:  Your dogg is feemail?
Me: Oh, sorry, J'ai un chien. Je m'appelle Cooper.
Pierre: You are called de Cooper?
Me: Oh, crap. Sorry....erm.... Il s'appelle Cooper.

And today:
Pierre: Alorr, waatt doo yooou zay to your landlord?
Me: J'ai un petit chien ...errm, tres propre (or in plain English, I have a very small and clean dog).
Pierre: Oui! Non probleme.


Mon toutou

In my calculation, I now have the vocabulary to last me all of...well, five minutes, in French. In light of my misadventures in the French language, my mother sent me the link to a hilarious video of an old episode of Medicorp's The Noose, which I've been dying to post. I have to say I can relate to Alvin Ong's "Why must "chut" so many patterns?" It must be frustrating for taxi drivers to remember the names of all the condominiums in Singapore, and there are so many, let's face it. Neither does there seem to be a theme to the naming of these developments. For example, within my immediate vicinity the condos include Hillside, Hillview Heights, Summerhill, Symphony Heights, The Petals, Chantilly Rise...oh, and my favourite, Parq Palais. A real conversation with a taxi driver "uncle" recently: "Hillview got Heights, meh?" One could perhaps be forgiven for forgetting, sometimes, that you were in Singapore.




Here is a recipe for the classic French vegetable tian that I made for the dinner party, which features layers of tender vegetables baked in the oven until just done. Viva le' Chai Tow Kway!

Wash the leek in several changes of water to remove all the grit

Serves 4-6 as a side dish

Ingredients:
2 medium red capsicums
1 large Australian leek
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 smallish long eggplants or 1 larger one
2 small zucchini or 1 larger one
3 plum tomatoes (don't substitute with regular tomatoes)
1/4 dry white wine (such as Sauvignon blanc)
1 handful of fresh thyme
Extra virgin olive oil
Sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper
Butter for the casserole

Preheat your oven to 240 degrees Celsius and set on the grill function. Butter a medium rectangular or square baking dish or casserole. Quarter the capsicums, removing the seeds and membranes. Drizzle some olive oil over, lightly season with sea salt and black pepper and pop them into the oven. Grill until skins are blackened. Take them out and place them in a covered dish to steam. When cool enough to handle, remove skin and slice into thick strips.

Halve the leek and slice into thin strips, using only the white portion. Place them in a large pot of water until they separate. Drain and repeat twice more. Slice eggplant, zucchini and tomatoes into thin discs, about 1/8 inch thick.

Preheat oven on bake setting to 190 degrees Celsius. Heat a large non-stick skillet over medium heat, add two tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil and saute' garlic until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add leeks and saute' gently until for about 3-4 minutes or until they are fragrant and slightly wilted. Spread the mixture over the bottom of your baking dish. Season lightly and scatter thyme over the mixture. Now, layer eggplant, zucchini, tomatoes and peppers in turn, slightly overlapping. Press the vegetables gently to make sure they are tightly padded. Season lightly and spread the rest of the thyme over the vegetables. Drizzle olive oil over and sprinkle wine over the dish. Cover with a piece of buttered parchment paper.

Bake in the oven for about 35 minutes or so until vegetables are done and they have shrunk away from the edges of the baking dish a little. (You want the vegetables tender but not shriveled) Serve warm.



Tuesday, June 15, 2010

"Who Said Cannot?" - Recipe: Vegetarian Mapo Tofu


Perhaps the most common mistake that people make when attempting to adopt a vegetarian or vegan-based diet is to try to recreate vegetarian versions of all their favourite meat dishes. Unfortunately, the results are often disappointing, because to my mind, you can't substitute meat for vegetables and attempting to do so is often an exercise in futility. I've learnt over the years that certain dishes were created specifically to enhance the taste of meat, and you can try till the cows come home, but you'll never find a vegetarian substitute. Take for example, coq au vin, siew yoke or ikan bakar. Likewise, food connoisseurs have told me that attempts  to "halalise" Bak Kut Teh (which literally translates from Hokkien as "meat bone tea") by turning it into Chick-Kut-Teh or Mut-Kut-Teh (chicken or mutton based) have failed miserably.

I feel a bit churlish now, thinking of how, when I first came back from the US, I subjected my poor mother to about 6 months or so of torture when I declared I was no longer eating meat. She truly tried her best, and for that I will always be grateful, to accommodate my new diet, yet she had to oblige the majority. One of the mainstays of our meals at home is lai tong or soup of the day. While many of the home-style Chinese soups include vegetables, the stock is inevitably made from meat, whether it is pork, fish or chicken. I remember the number of hours of research that my mother put into it to come up with a vegan stock. No matter how hard she tried, I remember my brothers showing up for dinner and going, "What is this?" For Muscles and Brawn, as I like to call them, anything vegetarian was immediately suspect, and as a result, they refused to touch it. 

Pigs dressed up like...tofu?
Source: Dan Piraro

However, with a little creativity, you can whip up many wonderful dishes that are completely vegetarian. The trick is to try to find something which is flexible enough to accommodate a complete overhaul (in the sense that changing the main ingredient doesn't destroy the taste of the dish) in the main ingredient. For example, the assertiveness of the tangy Chinese sweet and sour sauce provides you enough cover to substitute the meat in the dish with a vegetable, such as mushroom, that is amenable to being coated with flour or breadcrumbs and deep-fried. For my take on this, see my previous entry.

An alternative approach is zooming in on dishes in which the main ingredient is substantial and plant-based, such as tofu, eggplant or mushroom, and where meat plays a complimentary role. Take Mapo Tofu, or pock-marked lady's tofu, which is arguably the most famous tofu recipe from China. I've been to numerous restaurants where the wait staff have told me bluntly that the dish simply cannot be made vegetarian, because of the minced pork. However, I have discovered, after a few trials and errors, that you can quite easily create a vegetarian mince with superb results. So to all those waiters that have snubbed me, here's saying (insert obnoxious "Aunty" voice here), "Who said cannot?"

Serves 2-3 as part of a multi-course meal

Ingredients:
2 tbsp vegetable oil
1 large block of silken tofu,  drained of excess water and cut into large cubes
1/2 tsp (just a scant pinch) Sichuan peppercorns (pictured right, omit if desired)
1/2 inch old ginger, peeled and minced finely
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 large spring onion, minced, reserving about 1/2 tbsp for garnishing
4 dried shitake mushrooms, soaked until soft and then chopped finely
100 g vegetarian ham, chopped finely

Sauce:

1 1/2 tbsps Sichuan chilli bean paste
1 tbsp preserved black beans, washed and chopped
2 teaspoons red pepper flakes
150ml vegetable stock
1-2 tsps sugar
1 teaspoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon Chinese rice wine
2 tsp sesame oil
salt to taste

1 tbsp corn flour, mixed with 2 tbsps water to form a slurry
Chopped spring onion to garnish

Toast Sichuan peppercorns in skillet over low heat until fragrant. Crush coarsely in mortar and pestle. Heat the oil in a non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. When hot, add ginger, garlic and chopped spring onion and fry briskly for about 30 seconds until fragrant. Add mushrooms and vegetarian ham and stir-fry until lightly browned. Lower heat, add the Sichuan peppercorns, hot bean paste, black beans and ground chillies; stir-fry until the oil turns a rich red colour. Pour in stock, stir, and add the tofu. Mix in gently; do not stir or the tofu will break and your dish will look like mush.

Add sugar, soy sauce, rice wine, sesame oil and salt to taste. Cover and simmer gently for 5-10 minutes. Remove cover and thicken with cornstarch slurry. Remove from heat and serve hot, garnished with chopped spring onion.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Recipe: Baby Spinach and Tofu Salad with Sesame-Soy Dressing


This recipe is so healthy it makes me want to reach out for those bag of chips! While I am not exactly one to go on big mamak sessions or to binge on a tub of ice cream, I have a weakness for savoury snacks, namely, in order of preference, i) English-style fries (preferably eaten out of a newspaper package in Trafalgar Square before hopping onto the Night Rider...ah such fond memories!), ii) nuts (cashews, peanuts, macadamia, you name it) and iii) murukku. Unfortunately, my body is no longer willing to cooperate with me, and has decided, upon reaching its third decade, that it will punish me if I do not cease my evil ways. So as part of celebrating the summer, I've decided that it's high time that I start getting back into shape. It's started with swimming, and trying (note the operative word being trying) to eat better. The first few times I hit the pool, I felt like my lungs were going to cave in on me. I moaned and groaned and whimpered. Thankfully, things have gotten somewhat better with the exercising. I've been feeling a little off colour this week (and to illustrate, notice the cucumbers in the picture and the discolouration? Well, yours truly accidentally put them in the freezer when I was putting away the groceries). I decided to put together this salad which was inspired by a meal I had at an organic restaurant in KL. I cut down on the number of vegetables in the salad, instead relying on a few, but well-paired ingredients. I wanted to add sprouted moong sprouts (for a picture, see here) to the dish but was unable to find them here in Singapore, however, the nutty endamame worked just as well in adding texture. 


The hardest thing about exercising is....well, starting.
Source: Wiley by Thomas Vaclavek from Woodstock, USA (Wikimedia Commons)

Serves 2 (Simply double up if required)
Ingredients:

Dressing:
4 tbsp white sesame seeds
1 tbsp castor sugar
1 tbsp mirin
1 tbsp soy sauce
1/2 tbsp rice wine vinegar
1 tsp Japanese sesame paste (substitute tahini)
1 tsp grated ginger
2 tsp sesame oil
Dash pepper

In a skillet toast sesame seeds over low fire until nutty and golden brown. Grind sesame seeds in a mortar and pestle, and combine with sugar, sake, soy sauce, sesame paste, ginger, sesame oil and pepper. Mix until well incorporated.

Salad:
4 cups loosely packed baby spinach, stems trimmed if necessary
1 Japanese cucumber, sliced thinly
8-10 small cherry tomatoes
Large handful of frozen endamame pods
1/2 block of Japanese Yaki-style or other soft, smooth fresh tofu
1 large spring onion, sliced thinly
1 tbsp toasted sesame seeds to garnish

Drain tofu well and wrap in several layers of tea towels on a chopping board for about half an hour to drain excess liquid. Fill a medium saucepan with water and add a pinch of salt. Blanch frozen endamame pods for about a minute and then drain under running cool water to stop the cooking process. (Alternatively, microwave beans, with about 1 tbsp of water on high for one minute) When cool enough to handle, remove beans from the pods and set aside. In a large bowl, toss spinach with about 2-3 tbsp of the dressing, and divide among serving bowls. Top each bowl with sliced cucumber, cherry tomatoes, endamame and tofu. Scatter spring onion and sesame seeds and drizzle additional dressing if desired.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Spiritedness Defined - Recipe: Vegetable Korma

A little heartbeat by my side, Cooper, and his sidekick, Count Grappa

What counts is not necessarily the size of the dog in the fight, what counts is the size of the fight in the dog.- Mark Twain

One of the standard questions that I ask people when I first meet them is whether they like dogs. And then I wait, sort of breathless, for the answer, because quite honestly, I'm never prepared for a "no". Growing up, we always had dogs. Big, small, mutts, pedigrees - barks and yelps were all part of the cacophony of sounds that made family life rich, chaotic and beautiful. One of the best decisions that I have made since coming to Singapore was finding Cooper. Because the breeder had considered him special, he kept him hidden in the back. After he screened me and saw that I was a genuine dog lover, he said, "I have someone very special for you." I picked up the little fuzzy ball of fur and cradled him in my arms, and in less than half an hour, he was in my car and on the way home. I soon discovered that despite his diminutive stature, Cooper was perhaps the most rambunctious puppy I had ever encountered. He quickly developed an affinity for biting my fingers and toes, which I slowly and painstakingly weaned him off. Alas, he seems to have decided for himself that he's not about to extend the same courtesy to anyone else, at least for the time being! To elaborate further, this is a dog that will sneakily fish my underwear out of the laundry basket and hide it under the coffee table, bound up to anyone and any dog without fear or favour, trample all over the flower beds, and squeak at the top of his voice for eight hours straight if he thinks you will cave in to his demands. This is the dog that I watch, every morning during our walks (and who are we kidding, Cooper walks me, not the other way around), tear down the patch of grass lining the swimming pool because he genuinely believes that he can catch the birds. He has not only dismembered B's spectacles, broken my brother’s earphones, but has chewed through my cell phone and computer chargers, my printer cable, and just about every book that I am reading. In short, Cooper is spiritedness defined, and he has found his way resolutely and squarely into my heart.

I sent him for sterilisation yesterday, and was extremely distressed when I brought him home and saw that he was shivering from the pain. He did not move from his position on the couch for several hours, and refused everything but a little milk, even though he hadn't eaten or drank for over 20 hours. Later, I covered him with towels and had a sleepless night listening to him whimper by my side. A part of me was worried that the surgery would change him forever. But this morning, he was finally up and after a meal he was more or less back to normal. In fact he has already figured out how to dislodge his Elizabethean collar (what a fancy name for a funnel, eh?) on his own and by this afternoon, was able to play fetch with his favourite toy, Count Grappa. The resilience of this 1.8 kg package of canine spirit melts my heart, and it was something that I really needed as I was having one of those days today where I just felt like giving up.

Cooper also happens to love sitting by my feet while I prepare food, waiting for bits of carrots, a stray cherry tomato or cucumber to fall from the kitchen station and become his pre-dinner snack. Below I am posting a recipe for Vegetable Korma, which has many of his favourite treats inside. It is a mild, rich curry dish with a nutty flavour that pairs well with rotis such as naan. 

Clockwise from 12 o'clock: Cashew nuts, curry leaves, toasted desiccated coconut, black cardamom, cloves, cinnamon, and almonds
Base paste A:
2 tbsp desiccated coconut
4 cloves garlic
1 2 inch piece old ginger, peeled and chopped roughly
1/2 cup water

In a skillet toast desiccated coconut until golden brown. Grind into a paste together with the garlic, ginger and water in a blender.

Base paste B:
8 blanched almonds
10 cashew nuts
1/4 cup water

Grind cashews and almonds together to make a paste.

Ingredients:
2 medium sized onions, sliced
1 large carrot, cubed
2 medium potatoes, peeled and cubed
1 small slender purple eggplant, cubed
150 g cauliflower, cut into florets
1/4 cup frozen green peas, thawed
2 tomatoes, cubed
3 fresh green chillies, split in half, seeds removed
10 roasted cashew nuts
1 tbsp sultanas
3 tbsp vegetable oil
2 cups thin santan (coconut milk)
2 tbsp korma powder or to taste
Salt and white pepper to taste
Coriander leaves to garnish

Aromatics:
4 stalks curry leaves
1 cinnamon stick
5 cloves
3 black cardamoms (substitute 4 green cardamoms if unavailable)

Heat oil in a non-stick skillet or wok. Add oil. Fry curry leaves and the rest of the aromatic spices until fragrant. Add onions, and fry until wilted and slightly golden brown. Add carrots and potatoes and korma powder. Mix well. Fry until the korma powder releases its fragrance before adding base pastes.  Add half of the coconut milk. Lower heat and simmer for about 10 minutes  Add the rest of the coconut milk, as well as the eggplant, cauliflower, and chillies. Simmer for another 15 minutes or so until gravy is thick and vegetables are fork tender. Remove lid and add peas and tomatoes. Add salt and pepper to taste and simmer for an additional 3-5 minutes. Prick potatoes and carrots to make sure they are cooked.  Add roasted cashew nuts and sultanas and mix well. Adjust seasoning and garnish with coriander leaves.