FFRB* II : Ah Saam’s Signature Chicken Dish

* From the Family Recipe Box

Ah Saam was my mother’s family’s domestic help, but she was also much more than that. During her many, many years in the household, she became family.

It could be said that she belonged to the pioneer batch of ‘career women’ - - in a time when that term hadn’t even been coined yet. She belonged to that unique and special group of women we in South East Asia (and southern coastal China) call “ma jie” - - women who chose economic independence over marriage and family. They decided to “soh hei, mg ka” (literally translated from Cantonese as “comb up, will not marry”) - - that is, they wore their hair up in a tightly knotted bun and forsook marriage vows. Many went to work as domestic helpers in the wealthy Chinese families of Hong Kong, Taiwan and South East Asia, and devoted their entire lives to serving their employers and raising the children of the household.

These women, in their own special ways, became a very important part of Chinese society, and in some ways, became a very important economic force too. They took great pride in their vocation as domestic helpers, and they could always easily be identified by the way they groomed and dressed themselves. Almost inevitably, they all wore “saam fu” (literally: blouse pants) - - a distinctive get-up of loose-fitting black pants and a tunic-style white or light-grey-with-a-small-flower-print blouse. And they always combed their hair into a neat, tight bun at the back of their heads. Yes, these were the ma jie that were often depicted in Chinese movies or Cantonese TV serials.

While almost all of these ma jie never married, our Ah Saam was a little different. She married late in life (very late for those days at least) - - in her 30s. But within a year of her wedding, she became a young widow. That was when she made the incredibly brave decision to become a ma jie, leave her hometown in Guangzhou province in southern China and head for the unknown in Nanyang (or South East Asia). She came to this part of the world alone and with hardly any possessions, and ended up being employed by my maternal grandparents. She stayed with the family right up until her death, when she was in her 80s.

In the almost five decades she was with the family, she became family. While my grandmother busied herself helping my grandfather build his business, it was Ah Saam who ran the household and raised my mother and her siblings. Over the years, the distinction between employee and employer blurred and disappeared altogether ; we never saw her as anything but part of the family. She was the one who cared for, fed and watched over my mother, aunts and uncles; she was the one who disciplined them and kept them in line. She made sure that they cleaned their own rooms (because as she always pointed out to them : that wasn’t her job but their own responsibility) and that they helped with the household chores.

When Ah Saam first arrived in the family, my mother was a mere toddler. She watched my mother and her siblings grow up, go through school, date, marry and have kids of their own. She even watched me, my brother and my cousins grow up - - she became almost like a second maternal grandmother to us. She knew what our favorite foods were, and, without fail, always had those dishes waiting on the lunch table each time we visited with our grandparents.

I believe she loved us dearly. I have distinctive memories of her being so happy to see us each time we visited. And my grandmother used to say Ah Saam would always get all anxious and would keep watching out for us if we were even 15 minutes late for our regular lunch get-togethers with my grandparents. Probably, in many ways, we became very much the grandchildren she never had. We were always greeted with a hug, and she always saved the best foods for us and made sure she had little treats for us. After each visit, as we left, there would be another hug, and she would always stand at the door and wave until our car was out of sight. Memories of her tiny, petite figure, dressed in her saam fu, standing in the doorway remains indelibly etched in my mind.

Ah Saam was a woman of strong character, and she was not afraid to make known her views on things, even to my grandparents. And what was interesting was the curious clash (but a harmonious clash, if there ever was such a thing) of cultures between my grandparents and Ah Saam. My grandparents were Hakka, and throughout their lives, spoke only the Hakka dialect. Ah Saam, on the other hand, was Cantonese, and throughout her life, spoke nothing but Cantonese. And yet, everyone communicated beautifully and understood each other perfectly. To the outsider, it was always a curious scene : my grandparents speaking to Ah Saam in Hakka, and she in turn responding in Cantonese! It was very much like the Chinese saying : a duck talking to a chicken!

When it came to cooking and the food that was served in the family, Ah Saam took on many of my grandmother’s Hakka recipes and made them her own. Many of the Hakka dishes, like this particular chicken dish, even became her signature dishes. She also adopted many of the Hakka festival customs and food traditions.

This particular chicken recipe (apparently quite a down-home, true-blue Hakka dish) has gone from maternal grandmother to Ah Saam, then from my mother to me. And to this day, it still remains a firm favorite for me and my family. It is another one of those dishes that is incredibly easy and simple to prepare and yet taste out-of-this-world.

Of course, normally - - just as it was when my grandmother and Ah Saam made it - - regular free-range chicken (or kampung chicken, as it is called in this part of the world) is used in the dish. But sometimes, my mum, and thus, now me, also use small black chickens for this recipe.

Black chickens are exactly that - - black, and naturally so. Their skin is black ; their flesh is black. They are usually fairly small - - somewhere in between a squab and a spring chicken, and are believed to be far superior in nutrition compared to the regular chicken. Most often they are used in double boiled soup tonics. But in my family, we also like to cook them with glutinous rice wine and ginger.

Their meat is more tender and yet, at the same time, firmer than regular free-range chickens. It is also leaner and sweeter too, with deeper, richer and more intense flavors. I personally enjoy black chickens a lot more than regular free-range chickens. But they don’t work well for all chicken dishes though ; only some, and in this one in particular.

Chicken with Glutinous Rice Wine and Ginger

6 whole free-range chicken legs or 2 small black chicken, quartered
¾ cup glutinous rice wine
3 - 4” knob fresh ginger
4 slices fresh ginger
1½ tablespoons sugar
5 tablespoons light soy sauce

• Clean the chicken, and remove skin and excess fat.

• Taking the big knob of ginger, cut it into several medium pieces, bruise them with the sides of a cleaver or a pestle, then squeeze out the juices. Discard the root and reserve the juice.

• In a completely dry, non-stick wok or large non-stick skillet, melt the sugar. Resist the urge to stir the sugar ; simply leave it to melt completely, on low heat, until it is lightly colored.

• Once the sugar has melted, add the light soy sauce, glutinous rice wine, ginger juice and the ginger slices. Stir to mix well, and bring to a rolling boil. [This is important - that the sauce be at a rolling boil before adding the chicken; this seals the meat as soon as it is added, and helps the chicken stay moist and tender.]

• Add the chicken. Let it cook until the meat on the underside has changed color. Flip the chicken pieces over, and cook until the other side has also turned color. Cover the wok and leave to simmer for about 20 minutes (depending on the size of the chicken pieces) or until the chicken is fully cooked through.

• Serve the chicken with gravy on the side. [The sauce will have thickened and developed gorgeously rich flavors by the time the chicken is cooked through.]

Note:
• Some of you may be surprised (then again, you may not be at all) at the amount of rice wine that is used in the recipe, and that this dish was served to us as children. But it is quite safe to do so, I think. The alcohol evaporates completely as the chicken cooks, leaving just a richly and intensely flavored sauce. And really, it is the glutinous rice wine (or rice wine, if you prefer) which gives this dish its distinctive and incredibly delicious flavors.

• The taste of the ginger is fairly subtle, despite the amount of juice used. It works in the background adding a refreshing zip to the chicken and gravy.

• Any leftover sauce is sublime the next day when used to toss with some noodles, rice vermicelli or even pasta! [Recently, I discovered a small bowl of the gravy that had been sitting in the fridge for almost a week. I heated it up and the most incredible aromas emanated throughout the kitchen - - it still tasted fantastic too. I made some dry tossed (kon lo) noodles with it, and topped it with some store-bought foo chow fishballs. Yum! It made for a wonderfully quick, easy and tasty lunch.]

Copyright © 2004 Renee Kho. All Rights Reserved.
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