Archive for the 'Photography' Category

Cold Soup, And Other Mysteries Of Culinary Life

I just heard a radio program on summer soups. (Okay, for the uninitiated, there’s SUMMER soup, and there’s REST OF THE YEAR soup.) Summer is hot, ergo you drink cold soup. Winter is cold, ergo you drink hot soup.

Now, for a girl from the tropics, the idea of cold soup is as appetizing as melted ice-cream. It’s the same thing, if you ask me. For Singaporeans, and I assume, many others in non-seasonal places, hot soups are a daily – and delicious – reality of life.

I remember how flabbergasted Jay was on his first visit to Singapore. Aside from being overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and smells, he couldn’t understand how we could eat hot spicy food in the middle of 100-degree humidity.

It’s funny how you never really consider something you do every day, your whole life, until someone looks at it from a different perspective.

We’re used to what we’re used to, until we’re not.

Still, there are some mysteries I cannot fathom.

Don’t come and bluff me with this “Suckling Pig.” Lola, I’m talking to you. When Chris visited Seattle with her family, we made a dinner date at the restaurant and eagerly anticipated “Suckling Pig” as advertised on its menu. After the waitress described the dish, we were sorely disappointed. She lamely told us there was crispy pork rinds. Stewed pork with some skin thrown on as an afterthought isn’t suckling pig. Am I being too harsh if I want them to get it right?

I am constantly tickled whenever I encounter “Singapore” dishes. I’ve seen “Singapore Noodles” in almost every US city, but this was the first time I saw “Singapore Chicken.” Depending on who you believe at the Vashon Island restaurant – run by Hong Kongers – the chicken was either in some brown sauce, or curry sauce, or brown curry sauce. If there was any Singapore dish that deserved a national title, it would have to be Char Kway Teow.

I still have mixed feelings about sandwiches, especially cold sandwiches. We made these Cream Cheese Salmon sandwiches for Ruby’s second birthday this year, in addition to Cream Cheese Cucumber and Nutella Apple sandwiches. I have not had as much cream cheese as I’ve had since moving to the US. They eat a lot of sandwiches here. I guess a sandwich is like a bowl of noodles. Only to me, it’s still not really.

As a result of our schizophrenic diet, Ruby has developed a rather unique palate. She loves cream cheese, pickles, fish balls, sushi, noodles, and char siew; but does not like mac and cheese, tofu, eggs, sandwiches, or pasta (cold or hot). I can safely say she is the only one in her preschool to pack rice or noodles in her lunchbox instead of sandwiches.

What does this mean for our family?

Grocery runs to two kinds of supermarkets to get both Western and Asian ingredients. A kitchen where you can find instant noodles and salsa. Dinners where Jay makes a sandwich, and I make a bowl of noodles.

Because when you’ve got to eat soup noodles, you’ve got to eat soup noodles.

This Is A Tour Of My Home. Right Now.

I don’t believe in any of the homes I read about in interior magazines, architectural magazines, or design magazines. Or, for that matter, any “Habitat Profiles” in newspapers.

You know why?

NO ONE LIVES IN THOSE HOMES!

There is no way that people live without stuff lying around, without a dustball in sight, without a shred of human evidence! I think there’s a conspiracy. The home owners have TWO houses – one for the glossy magazine shoot, and one they actually live in.

It is not accurate to show a home devoid of the very basic thing that makes it a home – life.

So I’ve decided that it’s only fair I show you an honest-to-goodness lived-in 700-sq-ft bungalow house occupied by two adults and one toddler.

When you enter our home, you will most likely trip over a shoe or two. Sorry about that.

Next, your eyes will immediately be assaulted by Jay’s and my workstations on our former dining table. We used to try to eat on the end not occupied by our computers, but as a casualty of day-to-day living, we’ve transformed that usable space into a dumping ground for whatever we’re doing at any time of the day, or whatever we happen to be carrying as we walk through our front door. For the record, this drives Jay crazy.

Look left and what was once our living room is now merely referred to as “Ruby’s Play Area.” It is not a pretty sight. A clean living room lasts about 10 seconds, the amount of time it takes Ruby to run into her room and pick out a new toy to play with.

This is Ruby’s Big Girl Bed. Not bad, you think, until you see…

…this. Her closet.

Our kitchen is the size of many of your bathrooms. (This is no excuse, but I wanted to point that out.) Yes, the counter is full of crap. Yes, Ruby has many toys. Yes, I eat a lot of cookies, and there is no room to open that microwave door. Yes, those are dirty dishes and I sometimes wish I had a dishwasher.

This narrow passageway to our backdoor serves as a mini laundry room. Jay’s piece de resistance of organization is right here. Boxes and boxes meticulously labeled, with random objects such as stamps, hair clips, tape, etc, all nicely squared away.

There is always unwashed laundry in my house. If you open that dryer, there is probably a load of unfolded laundry. Clothes happen. Those fancy schmancy homes? They have housekeepers. Or maybe they don’t change clothes. As a G-rated blog, I’ve made one edit. You don’t need to know I have something personal drying on that rack.

There is soap scum on my shower curtain. Don’t hate.

This is part of my floor. Duct tape is the answer to everything.

You’re probably thinking, “How in blazes do they live like that?” right after you think, “Damn, that Dot sure is one messy person!”*

Look, I’m just being honest here. If no one was visiting, this is what my home looks like 90 percent of the time. I’m betting there are others out there whose homes look a little like mine. So ‘fess up.

This is a real home. Shouldn’t there be a magazine catering to readers like me who appreciate a neighborly snoop into other people’s homes? We can call it “Surprise Habitat Profile.” I don’t care if you have unfinished laundry on top of that high-end Samsung washing machine or your kid’s naked doll and all her accessories are sprawled on your Eames lounge chair.

Because that’s the truth.

Don’t let your $80-an-hour housekeeper tell you otherwise.

*Please note that this is mostly Dot’s doing. Jay tries very hard to keep this place clean but he’s up against the tsunami of messiness that is me and Ruby.

I Wish To State For The Record That I Cannot Cook These Foods. And Here’s Why.

*Disclaimer: This is a long post. About food. If you are Singaporean, you may get very hungry. If you are not Singaporean, you may think I am crazy. I am not responsible for either outcome.

Fine. I admit it. I’m whiny hungry Dot. Every once in a while – Jay insists it’s every few months – I get all whiny and hungry for Singaporean hawker food.

“Why don’t you take some classes and learn how to cook those dishes?” he says.

“Cannot!” I wail. “Where got time? Who got teach? How to find ingredients? Fire not hot enough! It’s not the same! I am too lazy!”

People in Singapore, do you realize how lucky you are? We don’t eat these foods every day, or we might, but the point is, the food is right there. There, there, and there. And I’m over here.

Hokkien Mee is one of those foods I wish I enjoyed more as a kid. For some reason, I found the slippery noodles very irritating as it impeded my speed of consumption. I love it much much now.

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: Stock too complex to make. Includes shrimp, prawns, pork. Haven’t made my own shallots in a long time.

For a devout carnivore, I sure love my vegetarian zhai noodles. God bless the carnivores who made this, because you know they knew how to make it taste good. I swear, sometimes vegetarians get a bum rap because of the things they eat, mainly, tempeh.

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: Are you kidding? I don’t even really know what is in this! It’s got pretend pork and crispy tofu skin. I think gluten is involved. I have no time to roll and color gluten into pretend pork color. As far as I’m concerned, those yummy sweet green chillies essential for zhai cannot be manmade.

Ah, tow suan. Sweet mysterious yellow pellets with crispy (most times soggy) you tiao (incidentally called Chinese donuts in this here parts.)

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: What is the yellow thing?

Kway Chap! Jay says he can’t stand this, I think it’s the concept that baffles him more than the taste. He’s never had it. Pig intestines, tofu, duck meat, hard boiled eggs, super wide noodles.

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: Hello, where to get pig intestines? Plus, I don’t want to know how to cook it. I just want to eat it.

Altogether now: CHAR KWAY TEOW! Delicious national dish of noodles (must have two kinds, you know what I’m talking about), bean sprouts, Chinese sausage, egg, fish cake, soy sauce, pork lard. Holy crap.

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: Well, technically I did it once in Seattle, for a Singaporean get-together. But it was NOT THE SAME. I couldn’t find the right noodles. And I spent a whole day prepping and cooking, with Jay’s help. People, I have a two-year-old. And a job. I’d rather give Mr Hawker $2 to cook it.

I love wanton noodles because it has everything I need in a balanced meal. Carbs. Proteins. Vegetables.

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: There are too many components. For starters, the wantons are a bitch to wrap. Tasty soup was never my forte. It’s an assembly nightmare to cook the noodles perfectly and add the char siew, mushrooms, and vegetables.

Oh dear carrot cake, must you be the moist, springy, sweet and salty carb love of my life?

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: Did you see the size of his wok? I don’t have the heat to pull this off. (For the record, we attempted it once in Seattle, and Jay turned two burners on, there was carrot cake and soy sauce everywhere, and the stove was a sticky mess at the end of the day.)

Kaya toast and runny eggs with soy sauce and white pepper. A champion’s breakfast if I ever saw one.

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: I have no kaya. My soy sauce never tastes like their soy sauce.

I’m not a spicy fan but I will do anything for laksa. What’s not to love? Noodles in spicy coconut soup with eggs, fish cakes, and fried tofu does it for me every time.

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: Don’t get me started. This gravy soup stock is made of things I don’t even have the names for. I believe shrimp paste is involved.

There is a reason this blog is called Tofu Nation. I love every variation of tofu there is. And yong tau foo is the epitome of all things heavenly that can be made from soy. I love both dry and soup versions.

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: Is Labor-Intensive a good enough excuse? Every little piece is individually created. I need someone like this man selling yong tau foo to make yong tau foo noodles.

I love my kueh tu tu, but I can’t even say for sure what the white part is made of. Rice flour perhaps? I do know that my favorite filling is peanut. Coconut is a close second.

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: I don’t have this machine. Enough said.

I don’t just eat beehoon noodles. I am grouchy if they only have beehoon. What I need is beehoon and mee. No harm throwing on Maling luncheon meat and a fried egg too.

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: I’m not sure how to season the noodles. And again, I have not fried shallots in a long time.

The idea of fishballs freaks Jay out. Texture, too. If I had to name a dish I ate the most growing up, it has got to be fishball noodles. Which kid doesn’t like fishballs? So yummy! So springy!

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: There’s a reason this man is making a living. It’s because I’m a lazy ass.

This is a two-fer. Hainanese pork chops and Hainanese chicken rice. Don’t get in my way.

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: Hainanese pork chops must be seasoned with crack. Because I am addicted. As for the chicken rice, did you know they cook whole chickens in large vats of boiling water? I don’t have a large vat.

Roti Prata is Ghee’s gift to Mankind, at least that’s what I think it’s cooked with. Why else does Ghee exist?

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: I can’t flip and knead it like the experts.

I’m not sure why I am not a 300-pound human based on the amount of carbs I eat. How can anyone live without chee cheong fun?

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: Someone has to make the rice noodle from scratch and roll it up into chee cheong fun shapes. That someone is not me.

This steamed cake thing whose name escapes me now was my favorite childhood snack, aside from the rainbow kueh. I know the colors don’t make a difference, but I used to love the pink ones and not the white ones.

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: I don’t have those cute little orange checked holders.

Don’t say “porridge” to anyone here in the US. They will think you are talking about oats. This lovely rice dish is such comfort food for me. However, I must say I am not a fan of the thousand-year-old egg.

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: I have tried. Many many times. My chok never tastes like good chok. I can’t find the right type of rice grains.

I cannot have a discussion about Singapore food without zi char. You can’t tell from the photo, but we just had a delicious meal of chicken, beef, vegetables, all freshly cooked to order. What can be better than ordering your favorite homecooked dishes outside your home? No fuss, no mess.

Why Dot Can’t Cook This: I am a bad cook.

Whiny hungry Dot. Coming to a hawker center near you.

Back Home From Our Visit Home

Dot’s Six-Word Update

“Homesickness cure: Family, friends, and food.”

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Ruby’s Six-Word Update

“Cousins make fishballs, icecream taste better.”

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We were really in Singapore!

How To Travel Long Distances In An Enclosed Space With A Toddler

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(1) Buy your two-year-old her own set of kid-sized headphones. So she can watch all the Yo Gabba Gabba she wants on your souped up iPhone. (Which, incidentally, will be loaded with YGG and Shaun the Sheep episodes, backed with a $50 battery life extender).

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(2) Pray that the airliner carries ice-cream on demand.

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(3) Smuggle her onboard as a pet. People seem more forgiving of animals than toddlers, I’m not sure why. Either way, she can pass off as a ridiculously cute miniature giraffe or mutant chihuahua.

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(4) Keep at least five hamburgers in your carry-on bag for emergency feedings.

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(5) Do not, under any circumstances, forget to bring baby doll on board.

Those failing, you can always train your toddler to turn on the Cute.

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The Meeting

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Santa, meet Ruby.

Ruby, meet Santa.

Sometimes I Am Afraid To Post More Pictures Here…

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…because you can see how messy my house really is.

She Is Not A Monkey, An Owl, Or A Spider

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Or, for that matter, a toddler with food stains.

Happy Halloween.

The Joy Of Wonderment

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Ever wonder what Ruby looks like when she yells and raises her hands while standing in a suitcase?

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Ever wonder what Ruby looks like buried up to her waist in beach sand?

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Ever wonder what a really large telescope looks like?

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Ever wonder what a little trash can looks like?

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Ever wonder what a lot of noodles looks like?

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Ever wonder what two kids look like sitting in a Step 2 Whisper Ride Buggy with extra large Silent Ride Tires™?

How I Made Carrot Cake And Met The Cha Dao Guy

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I must be the laziest Singaporean around.

And by “laziest,” I mean laziest.

I will complain about being homesick for every kind of hawker food, but I will do nothing about it.

That is, until some motivating factor kicks in, such as I have been away from Singapore for more than 365 days; or, more likely, someone organizes a Singaporean potluck in Seattle and I was going to cop out and buy a bunch of egg tarts from the bakery but then I found out that my brother’s wife was going to make egg tarts from scratch (gasp!) and therefore had to think of an alternative quickly and decided I was going to make carrot cake, so help me God.

So here we are.

Carrot cake dreams are made of this.

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I’m talking ABC sauce. I don’t know what’s in it, but it isn’t USDA Organic, that’s for sure.

For this “sweet soy sauce” to taste this good, I’m sure something cute, fluffy, and/or used to be organic matter did die for the good of carrot-cake-loving Singaporeans everywhere.

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Ingredients:
Non-vegetarian radish cake (Don’t ask.)
Dried radish or chye por
Eggs
Garlic
Spring onions
ABC sauce
Love

Tactic:
Open all windows and doors. Turn on two burners to “highest.” Use biggest saucepan you have. Grease. Put in this order: garlic, radish, egg, radish cake, ABC sauce, spring onions. Love it up.

Result:
Heaven.

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This is but one section of the Singaporean Foodestival!

You can tell how this ends for me.

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In random groupie moment news, I discover that the host of the party is Ghim, a Singaporean behind the Cha Dao tea brand I’ve been seeing around Seattle. Hello! How did I not know a Singaporean was behind this?

The tea is freshly brewed, not too sweet, and authentic tasting. (All you Asian diaspora know what I’m talking about!)

I first had his Chrysanthemum tea when I was a cranky, craving, pregnant woman.

If you can please a cranky, craving, pregnant woman, there is nothing you cannot do.