The Right-sized Stir Fry





















I know it’s just a matter of time I’ll be a vegetarian. I eat less and less meat these days. When I do have, it’s most often a light touch of seafood. Red meat has been a rare choice of my diet.

On a typical weekday, I can’t but reach out for lunch. The meat proportion is usually large. My stomach would be telling me “enough for today!”

So, back home cooking for dinner, I have developed a natural tendency to minimize the meat portion. It’s not unusual really that I would have a complete vegetarian diet. Besides, vegetables can be kept much longer than meat. It saves me the trouble of shopping regularly. As somebody who strives to cook dinner every working day but time is a major constraint, vegetables are my natural choice.

Here’s one I always do. Stir-fried eggs with Shimeji mushrooms. Yes, both eggs and mushrooms are classified as vegetarian. In Hong Kong, it’s popular to have stir-fried eggs with shrimps. The tenderness of the shrimps goes perfectly well with eggs. Here, I replace shrimps with my favourite Shimeji mushrooms (also known as Bunapi Shimeji, White Beech or White Clamshell).

The Shimeji should always be cooked, it is not supposed to serve raw. When raw, this creature has a somewhat bitter taste. The bittereness disappears when cooked. The cooked mushroom has a pleasant, firm, slightly crunchy texture and a delicious mildly nutty flavor.

Ingredients:
1. a handful of white Shimeji mushrooms;
2. two eggs; and
3. spring onion, finely chopped;

Cut off the bottom unwanted part of the mushrooms. Rinse them slightly and leave dry. Stir the eggs hard and well, with a small pinch of sea salt.

Use a wok that can stand heat because the heat plays a vital role in this stir fry. Heat it up with four spoonfuls of oil. Throw in the mushrooms and stir-fry them well for about half a minute. Spread them slightly over the wok.

Then go the eggs and spread them around the mushrooms. Leave them alone for seconds so that eggs get slightly cooked. Pour the spring onion and stir fry everything well.

Fire off and instantly bring them to the plate to keep the tenderness intact.

With rice and Chinese green vegetables, it's a dinner that serves me well. I won’t ask for anything else. I won’t have any more complaints about the day. And I’ll be ready for another hard one coming.

P u r

Have you had an experience like this? A gorgeous one that you never forget. As if someone implanted a chip in your brain with a timer well set. Every now and then, the sound, the vision or the smell comes back to your memory. It brings it back for a moment but then you always have to let it go.

On this day, 13 years ago, I had this night. I went to see Cocteau Twins at Brixton Academy in London. Cocteau Twins is a legendary British rock icon that began their 17-year musical journey from the early-80s. Unequivocally my most favourite band. Brixton is the first place to name when it comes to gigs and concerts. Both were my first experience. So it was x2 special to me. I secured this ticket on the first day of bookings, anxiously waiting for the night to come. That night opened my eyes.

That night, they played this song "Pur". At last year's Cocteau Twins Essence Contest, one of the three winning submissions says...

"Pur is what we heard when we met, what we saw falling in love, what we felt saying," I do". It's what we tasted when we divorced. Ever now and again, when I hear that song come over my ipod, it brings it back for a moment but I always let it go."

Pur is exactly the feeling I'm having now. I know it sounds just weird on this very Chinese New Year Day.

And I know this blog is supposed to talk about food. Please excuse me again. I promise coming up next will be another mouth-watering piece. But, bear with me a little longer. Pur!

Lyrics

Phantasmagoria in Two


If a fiddler played you a song, my love
And if I gave you a wheel
Would you spin for my heart and loneliness
Would you spin for my love

If I gave up all of my pride for you
And only loved you for now
Would you hide my fears and never say
"Tomorrow I must go"

Everywhere there's rain my love
Everywhere there's fear

If you tell me a lie I'll cry for you
Tell me of sin and I'll laugh
If you tell me of all the pain you've had
I'll never smile again

Everywhere there's rain my love
Everywhere there's fear

I can plainly see that our parts have changed
Our sands are shifting around
Need I beg to you for one more day
To find our lonely love

Everywhere there's rain my love
Everywhere there's fear

Words/Music: Tim Buckley

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Nothing, it's just the "dark side" of the blogger

And cooking in the dark can be quite a romantic experience.

The Purgative Experience

Yes, I was cheated.

And yes, it was oily, horribly oily!

click here to find out what this monster is...

Tom Kha Gai, Not Quite a Minimalist Soup

This blog has been short of soup. For one thing, it is something I’m not really good at. For another, good soup usually demands a lot of ingredients, time and attention. It is kinda against the minimalist principles here.

I've been taking some shots actually. Just didn't have a real good chance to bring them on. Tonight, a Friday night, is a nice quiet night. So here I am…

Last Christmas, I had four great friends coming for dinner. Ling Ling (my newly adopted sister), Ray (my newly adopted brother-in-law, by default), Lam Lam and Zia (names tell, two sweet girls!). I don’t remember exactly. That night we had about six or seven courses. Salad, soup, entrée, main and main again. Champagne, wine and more wine.

OK, it’s the soup. Yes, I think the highlight of the night was the soup, at least in terms of time and effort I put in. So I am singling it out and bringing it here.

Tom Kha Gai is a mild but spicy chicken soup, with the very unique flavour of galangal ("kha" in Thai) which creates a heavenly taste when combined with hot chilli, coconut milk, lime leaves and lemongrass.

To make it a little more special for the occasion, I added a different twist by introducing shrimps and squids.

Not-quite-minimalist ingredients:
half a litre of chicken broth;
6-8 kaffir lime leaves, shredded;
6 or 8 1-inch pieces of fresh lemongrass, bruised slightly to release flavour;
1-inch cube (or a bit more) of galangal (also known as blue ginger), sliced thinly;
4 tablespoons of good-quality fish sauce;
2 tablespoons of fresh lime juice;
a whole piece of chicken breast, cut into smallish bite sized pieces;
half a dozen of shrimps, shells removed and slice-opened at the top;
a piece of large squid, cut thinly;
a bunch of straw mushrooms, sliced into halves;
250-500 ml of coconut milk;
small red Thai chillies, slightly crushed (to taste); and
coriander (cilantro) leaves to garnish.

The number of chillies is a personal choice. It can be as few as three/four to more than a dozen. But the soup should retain a balance of flavours and not be overwhelmed by the chillies.

The broth should be made with fresh chicken. Canned broth finds no place here. Filter it clear, please.

Heat the broth, add the lime leaves, lemongrass, galangal, coriander stems, fish sauce, salt and lime juice. Stir thoroughly, bring to a boil, and add the chicken, shrimps, squid, straw mushrooms and coconut milk, then the chillies.

Bring back to the boil, lower the heat to keep it simmering and cook for about 2 minutes (until the chicken, shrimps and squid are cooked through).

Garnish with a generous amount of coriander leaves. Sprinkle some fresh ground pepper.



Not really intended to be eaten as a separate course, I like it served over a bowl of steamed jasmine rice. But, that night, we were served with salad and bread.

What a night! What a beautiful festive night!