shiokadelicious!

Chinese Italian or Italian Chinese?

Whichever way it is, this dish is a very quick, easy, and most importantly, tasty dinner option. Two pots, seven ingredients (excluding seasonings), 30-35 minutes and you are ready to eat. And not only is it a minimum-fuss recipe to prepare, it is very healthy too – I love pasta (yes, pasta is a carb and yes, pasta is good for you; just look at Sophia Loren), and it works beautifully in this combination: the tofu offers a good source of quality protein and the walnuts bring with them their high concentration of omega-3 acids, while the classic Nonya rempah (ground spice mix) chilli garam (a combination of chilli, candlenuts and shallots) adds a fiery zing, and the fresh coriander, with its aromatic perfume, rounds off the flavor matrix with a refreshing nuance. This dish may be vegetarian, but I think it is one that even die-hard meat lovers won’t turn their noses up at.

Usually, when we think quick, easy and simple dishes, we think they are somehow not presentable enough to serve to guests; but this dish is eminently party-worthy. It is very pretty – the red chillis coat the pasta with the gorgeous colors of sunset, spiked with the warm golden brown of the walnuts and the lively green of the coriander. I have served this to friends and it’s been nothing but good responses from everyone. And the great thing is, it’s so easy and quick to prepare; you don’t have to be fiddling in the kitchen after your guests have arrived.

This dish is a (perhaps fairly eclectic) blend of Asian and Italian influences. Yes, it belongs to that now very maligned category of foods called “fusion”; but it works, and works very well.

Of course, you can choose to make it more Asian by using Chinese noodles like dried la mian, spinach noodles or egg noodles. Or, you can choose to play up the Italian-ness in the dish and use Italian flat leaf parsley in place of the coriander, and maybe use toasted pine nuts instead of walnuts. Really, this dish is highly versatile and very amenable to playful adaptation.

For those who truly can’t bear the thought of eating a meal without animal protein, diced chicken meat can be substituted for the tofu. And you can even use cashew nuts with the chicken instead of walnuts. Alternatively, try prawns with cashews.

I however really like this vegetarian version; I’ve made this pasta several times already, and it’s quickly become one of my favorite ways to prepare pasta.

Sambal Tofu Walnut Pasta

Serves approximately 4 persons

200-250g dried pasta (spaghetti, fettuccini or linguini) OR dried Chinese noodles (la mian, egg noodles)
1 teaspoon salt

2 large squares firm tofu (tau kwa), crumbled
100g walnuts, toasted and roughly chopped
4 stalks fresh coriander leaves (cilantro; Chinese parsley), chopped
1 lemon, cut into wedges
light soy sauce, to taste
sugar, to taste

For the Sambal:

12 shallots
12 dried red chillies
4 candlenuts (buah keras)
3 tablespoons olive oil
2-3 tablespoons light soy sauce, OR 1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar

• Peel the shallots. Scald the dried chillies with boiling water and pat dry. Remove seeds. [I tend to remove all the seeds, and find that the dish has just the right amount of heat – enough to get me sniffling and stretching for a Kleenex. However, if more spiciness is desired, just leave some of the chillies with seeds in, or leave all the chillies with seeds in.]

• Using a mortar and pestle, pound the shallots, dried chillies and candlenuts to a paste-like consistency. [You won’t be able to get it to a completely smooth paste because of the dried chillies, but that’s good – the skins of the chillies offer interesting specks of texture, color and flavor in the final dish.] Set aside.

• Bring water to a boil in a large pot; add 1 teaspoon of salt and the pasta. Cook until al dente.

• In the meantime, heat a large frying pan. Add the oil and sauté the ground sambal ingredients until aromatic (about 5-8 minutes or when you feel your nostrils tingle a little and sense a sneeze coming on). Season with 3 tablespoons of light soy sauce (or 1 teaspoon of salt; though I tend to prefer the light soy sauce as it adds a depth and richness of color to the sambal and gives a more complex flavor too, but that’s just my personal preference) and 1 teaspoon of sugar.

• Toss in the crumbled tofu and fry for about two minutes. Add the chopped walnuts; mix well. Adjust the seasonings if necessary. [At this point I usually add another 2-3 tablespoons or so of light soy sauce and maybe ¼ to ½ teaspoon more of sugar if necessary. It sounds like a lot soy sauce but it really isn’t; and I’m one who can’t stand over-salted food. Of course, the amount needed also depends greatly on the brand of light soy sauce you use; some brands are much saltier.]

• When the pasta is cooked, set aside 3-4 tablespoons of the cooking water, drain the pasta and add to the sambal pan, together with the reserved pasta cooking water. [Do not rinse the cooked pasta; but if using Chinese dried noodles, you can give the cooked noodles a quick rinse under running water, then pour some boiling water over the noodles to warm them up again, before tossing them in with the sambal.]

• Add the chopped coriander leaves, and toss well.

• Serve hot, with lemon wedges.

I think the lemon is an important component; it somehow seems to bring all the flavors together into a cohesive whole, plus of course, it gives the dish a delightfully appetizing tangy overtone.

For me, one of the nicest things going for this pasta dish is the complex layering of both texture and flavor: the soft, creaminess of the tofu is contrasted with and complemented by the aromatic crunch of the walnuts and the tender toothsome-y bite of the pasta (in this instance I had actually used semi-wholewheat pasta); the tingling spiciness of the chilli rempah sets off the blank canvas of the tofu and pasta beautifully, while being highlighted by the perfumy herbiness of the coriander and the cheery zestiness of the lemon. The whole dish just comes together rather well: wonderfully rich in flavors and textures, whilst staying fairly light on the palate.

Okay, one final bossy suggestion from me: if you would like to tone down the chilli heat level of the dish, simply make some adjustments to the sambal: use less dried chilli (oh, maybe 9 or 10), more shallots (around 14-15) and more candlenuts (around 6 should be fine). The key really is just to maintain the volume of the rempah; the sauce is a very “dry” one, so the volume is necessary.

Alright, I lie. Here’s one more bossy suggestion; this really is the last one. I promise. Here’s a nod to the carb-avoiders: you can still create a great dish by junking the pasta altogether, and just sautéing the tofu and walnuts in the chilli sambal. This can then be served wrapped in crunchy lettuce leaves. Scrummy is the word.

Copyright © 2004 Renee Kho. All Rights Reserved.
Please contact me for permission to copy, publish, distribute or display any of the images or text contained in this article.

The Cheat & The Pretender

One of Sichuan’s (or Szechuan’s if you are still spelling it the old, non-hanyu-pinyin way) most famous dishes is Ma Po Tofu. Roughly translated, the name means “pockmarked grandmother beancurd”; apparently so named after the elderly woman who invented the dish. I was once told the “folklore” behind the dish by my mother, but have now since forgotten how the story goes. I think it has something to do with the unattractive appearance of the said elderly lady’s complexion, her outstanding culinary skills and talent, the visit of some high-ranking bureaucrat/official from the Imperial Capital, and his ecstatic reaction to her intensely flavorful tofu dish. To further add a sprinkling of fairy tale dust to the story, there is of course also the ironic play of metaphors… the word “pockmarked” being used to describe the delicate, smooth and soft texture and appearance of the tofu dish.

The elderly woman and her story may have long since been relegated to an obscure corner of epicurean trivia, but the dish she is said to have created lives on, and is now known and loved the world over.

For some reason, I have never ever made ma po tofu before. I do not know why. It is hardly a difficult dish to make. I guess it has just never occurred to me to make it. I cook tofu in a dozen different ways but never the ma po way. Until Lee Kum Kee came along and changed all that.

Recently, when I bought a new bottle of Lee Kum Kee’s oyster sauce, it came with a small complimentary sachet of… you guessed it, ma po tofu sauce attached to it. You see, Lee Kum Kee knew well the hearts of cooks like me. Under normal circumstances, it would not occur to me to buy a ready-prepared “ma po tofu sauce” to cook ma po tofu with, even if the thought of cooking ma po tofu had occurred to me in the first place. I would have more than likely tried to make the dish from scratch. But then where would big companies like Lee Kum Kee be if everyone made everything from scratch? So they enticed me with this little colorful packet that had a nice looking picture of ma po tofu on the front.

I turned the sachet over and read the label. Okay, I ‘fess up. I’m a huge label-reader. I read the labels of almost everything I buy. Seriously. So if you see a lady standing in the supermarket aisles reading food labels, that in great likelihood is me; come on over and say hi. I don’t like, and try to avoid as much as possible, eating foods that have too many “E numbers” and various other wonderful, chemically profound, artificial additives bringing up the rear of their ingredient listings. At the same time, I don’t like dissing every single company or whole categories of food items that are found on the supermarket shelves; dismissing them altogether in one breath, and branding them as the ultimate in sin and sinned creations, as some Singaporeans seem wont to do. I really don’t see the need to adopt a pompous, holier-than-thou, “I’m way above such products” approach to food. It’s just food. And besides, there are some decent, honest foods with integrity out there. I always feel that, in life, it is always much nicer (and also more beneficial) to constantly try to view the glass as half-full, rather than half-empty, or, as some Singaporeans would have you believe, three-quarters-empty or even completely empty!

I think it is about making personal choices about how we want to eat, but at the same time not condemning the rest of the world as being “below us” if they choose otherwise – be it out of ignorance or active choice. Education and awareness are the keys, and thus the world grows and evolves each and every day.

But I digress. Back to my ma po tofu sauce. The ingredient listing looked wholesome enough. So, hey why not? Let’s make ma po tofu for dinner.

That was how my “Cheat” Ma Po Tofu came about. I didn’t really make it. Lee Kum Kee did most of the work for me. But then a few days later, liking as we did the results of that Lee Kum Kee experiment, I made my own “Pretender” version of the dish.

“The Cheat” Ma Po Tofu

This particular version of ma po tofu probably does not really qualify on the authenticity index. I made several adjustments. I used diced chicken instead of the usual minced pork, and also added some additional seasonings of my own. All the same, it turned out very tasty, and it was so very simple to make too.

• Remove skin and all excess fat from some boneless chicken thigh meat, and cut into small cubes.

• Season the chicken with a little light soy sauce, sesame oil, sugar and cornflour. Set aside.

• Cut fresh tofu (not Silken Tofu) into cubes.

• In a little hot oil, sauté very briefly the tofu cubes. Remove from wok and drain well.

• In the same wok, sauté some chopped garlic and shallots until fragrant. Put in the chicken and sauté for a couple of minutes, until the color changes. Pour in the ready-made ma po tofu sauce, and add a little light soy sauce and oyster sauce to taste. Mix well.

• When the chicken is almost cooked through, return the tofu cubes to the wok and combine with the chicken gravy.

• Lastly, just before removing from the heat, sprinkle a handful of chopped cilantro (or parsley if you prefer), and stir to mix. Immediately turn off the fire and allow the cilantro to wilt in the residual heat.

The verdict on Lee Kum Kee’s ma po tofu sauce? I liked it. The family liked it. I would probably buy it again if I ever got the urge for a quick-and-easy, no-brainer ma po tofu dish. The flavors of the sauce were perhaps somewhat less spicy, with more mellow, rounded notes, than maybe an authentic Sichuan ma po tofu sauce. But it was highly flavorful and rather more-ish. And certainly the heat level can be very easily adjusted to suit personal tastes.

“The Pretender” Ma Po Tofu
That little outing with Lee Kum Kee had me wanting more spicy tofu. So, a few days later, I concocted my own version. Again, it was not in the authentic, classic ma po tofu style. I had not bothered to go look up a cookbook to see what exactly went into a “true-blue” ma po tofu. I decided to just go with the mood of the moment, and simply throw together whatever ingredients I had at hand, and see if I could come up with something in the spirit of ma po.

I used pork this time around. But thinly sliced tenderloin instead of minced meat.

• Thinly slice the pork tenderloin, and season with some light soy sauce, sugar and cornflour. Set aside.

• Cut the fresh tofu (not Silken Tofu) into cubes.

• In a little hot oil, sauté very briefly (approximately two minutes or so) the tofu cubes. Remove from wok and drain well.

• In the same wok, sauté some chopped garlic and shallots until fragrant. Put in the pork and sauté for a couple of minutes, until the color changes. Add 1 rounded heaping tablespoon chilli paste (I used my home-made version, but a store-bought one would be just fine), 2-3 rounded teaspoons tau cheong or bean paste (in place of the spicy hot bean paste that would normally be used in ma po tofu but which I had run out of), 2 rounded teaspoons hoisin sauce and light soy sauce to taste.

• When the pork is half-done, return the tofu to the wok. Stir to mix well.

• Add some hot water (less than ½ cup) to make some gravy. Let it come to a boil.

• Once the gravy is at a rolling boil, add a little cornflour solution to thicken the gravy. Allow the liquids to return to a boil. Add some chopped cilantro (or parsley if preferred), and immediately turn off the heat. Mix well to allow the cilantro to wilt in the residual heat.

It was very good, if I may say so myself. Nicely spicy, without being tongue-numbingly so. It was punchy and yet smooth and elegant. I certainly think the addition of a little hot bean paste would be a wonderful thing. At the same time, I would not remove the hoisin sauce the next time around either, even if it was not a “traditional” ingredient of ma po tofu. I liked the additional nuance of flavor that it added. And personally, I was quite happy not having any Sichuan peppercorns in the dish. I actually much preferred it without the mala flavor. But that of course immediately made the dish inauthentic. So, feel free to add the peppercorns if your spice preference lies in that direction.

The cheat or the pretender? Which do I prefer? I like both actually. Each for a different mood I say. So why choose?

Copyright © 2004 Renee Kho. All Rights Reserved.
Please contact me for permission to copy, publish, distribute or display any of the images or text contained in this article.

Doubly Eggy Steamed Tofu

This is a very simple and healthy dish that we like. Steamed silken tofu with two types of eggs – regular fresh eggs and salted eggs. There is a fairly interesting play of flavors and textures. The neutral blandness of the tofu against the saltiness of the salted eggs. The soft, creamy smoothness of the tofu amidst the firmer, custard-like lusciousness of the steamed egg, interspersed with dense, richly flavorful morsels of salted eggs.

Doubly Eggy Steamed Tofu

1 tube regular silken tofu [for this dish, I like to use the silken tofu in the toothpaste-like tube packing]
2 fresh eggs
2 salted eggs
chopped spring onions/scallions, green part only
½ to ¾ cup water or broth

• Start a steamer going so that the water is boiling by the time the tofu is ready to go in.

• Prepare the salted eggs: scrape off the layer of dark soil, and wash the eggs thoroughly. Boil them for about 10 minutes. Shell the hard-boiled eggs and cut into fairly small dices. Set aside.

• Cut the silken tofu into chunky cubes, and set aside.

• Lightly beat the fresh eggs and season with ¼ teaspoon sugar and pepper to taste. These are the only seasonings that will be going into the entire dish, so season well. No salt is added as there will (usually) be sufficient saltiness coming from the salted eggs*. Also, avoid over beating the eggs as this will create bubbles, and give the final custard a rather “holey” and rough texture.

• Add the water to the lightly beaten eggs*.

• Using a fairly shallow casserole dish or even just a regular round deep plate, layer the tofu at the bottom of the dish. Next, sprinkle the diced hard boiled salted eggs amongst the tofu pieces. Gently pour in the fresh egg mixture.

• Place the tofu in the steamer, and reduce heat to low*. Steam for about 15 minutes. Then, sprinkle the chopped green onions over the tofu, cover the steamer again and steam for another 5 minutes.

* Notes:
• The saltiness of the salted eggs can vary, depending on how “old” the eggs are. The longer the egg has been “steeped”, the more salty it will be. Freshly salted eggs will be significantly less salty. It’s impossible to tell from looking at the eggs when buying them how salty they will be. So, I usually taste the salted eggs after they have been hard boiled, and adjust the dish’s seasonings accordingly. If the salted eggs are somewhat less salty, I just add either a dash of light soy sauce or a pinch of salt to the fresh egg mixture.

• The texture and firmness of the egg custard can be varied by adjusting the amount of water added. For a softer, somewhat more “jiggly” egg custard, increase the amount of water slightly, but not by too much.

• If the heat is too intense during the steaming process, not only will it result in a “tougher”, overcooked custard, but also one with lots of tiny holes throughout.

• Another variation that we make, once in a blue moon, is the “triple eggy steamed tofu” – with fresh eggs, salted eggs, and century eggs. The latter is simply diced, like the salted egg, and also sprinkled over the tofu before pouring in the fresh egg mixture. This makes for an even more interesting intermingling of colors and textures. Not as healthy, but nice for the occasional indulgence.

Copyright © 2004 Renee Kho. All Rights Reserved.
Please contact me for permission to copy, publish, distribute or display any of the images or text contained in this article.

Silken Skin

I remember as a young girl, whenever I refused to eat fu jook (bean curd skins) or fu jook pei (dried bean curd stick), my paternal grandma would always tell me that eating fu jook would make my skin as silky smooth and fair as the fu jook. And if old wives’ tales are to be believed, eating lots of fu jook tong shui (bean curd skins sweet soup with gingko and lotus seeds) whilst pregnant would produce a baby with silky smooth skin and complexion!

While I’m not sure such bribery worked on me as a child, I have grown to love eating fu jook and all its variants. Fu jook is made from the “skin” that forms on the surface of heated soy milk. These are scooped up and either sold fresh to be used in making sweet dessert soups like fu jook bak guo tong shui (bean curd skins with gingko sweet soup), or are dried into sticks and used for many types of savory dishes. (Linked pictures are taken from Cook’s Thesaurus).

I love the fu jook dish my mum cooks. It’s chock-full of ingredients, with different tastes, textures and colors. The recipe involves a fair number of ingredients and quite a few different steps to prep all the different ingredients, before actually cooking the dish.

The main ingredients of the dish are: fu jook pei (dried bean curd stick), black wood-ear fungus, carrots, diced chicken meat, tang hoon (mung bean vermicelli), quail eggs, red and green chillis, cilantro or parsley. Occasionally, she may also add mushroom meat balls, fish balls, sotong (squid) balls or cubes of fish tofu. That’s what I like about this dish… the ingredients can be added to, substituted or changed to vary the flavors of the dish.

First, the dried bean curd sticks have to be prepared. They are soaked in water for at least 4 hours. After which, they are quickly sautéed (not deep fried) in hot oil. This is to prevent them from disintegrating when they are cooked in the main dish. They are then rinsed in running water to wash away some of the oil from the sautéing. Next, they are put into boiling water and allowed to “boil” for about 10 minutes. Once drained, they are ready to be used.

Similarly, for the dried black wood-ear fungus, these are also soaked in water then rinsed well to remove all soil and dirt. Again, they need to be boiled for about 10 minutes before being drained and set aside to be used in the main dish.

The quail eggs are hard-boiled and peeled.

The red and green chillis (seeded and de-veined) are sauteed in a little hot oil with a little minced garlic and shallots beforehand.

The diced chicken meat is marinated with a little light soy sauce, sesame oil, sugar and a bit of cornflour. Next, it is sautéed in a little hot oil, until partially cooked through. 1 teaspoon of dark soy sauce is added before it is set aside.

Now for the dish proper… minced garlic and shallots are sautéed in hot oil until softened and fragrant. The carrot slices are added, followed by the wood-ear fungus. Seasonings of around 1 tbsp light soy sauce, 1 tbsp oyster sauce, 3 tbsps rice wine and pepper are added. (Note: these quantities for the seasonings are for a BIG batch of the dish, and should be adjusted accordingly). Next, the chicken stock goes in, along with the dried bean curd sticks. More seasonings are added: 4 tbsps light soy sauce, ½ tsp sugar, 2 tbsps oyster sauce and 1 tbsp dark soy sauce. According to my mum, adding all the seasonings before adding the stock would lead to overly salty carrots and fungus, whilst doing it in two stages leads to a dish with nicely balanced flavors. The quantities for the flavorings may look like a lot, but it doesn’t produce a salty dish at all. My family is almost hyper-sensitive to saltiness. In Chinese restaurants we are constantly requesting for “less salt” in all our dishes. And this dish tastes just fine.

The tang hoon goes in next. The stock is allowed to come to a boil, before letting it simmer for about 15 minutes, uncovered. The last stage is to add the partially cooked chicken, hard-boiled quail eggs, chillis, and any other ingredients (eg mushroom meat balls etc) that are to be added but do not require much cooking time. The last to go in would be the cilantro leaves. The mixture is then brought to a boil, and a little cornstarch solution is added to thicken the gravy. After it comes to a rolling boil again, it is removed from the heat and served.

All that effort is worth it though… it tastes great, and even better the next day! Yum!

Copyright © 2003 Renee Kho. All rights reserved.
Please contact me for permission to copy, distribute or display any of the images and text contained in this article.