Bakmi Ayam

For me, bakmi ayam is synonymous with university. My friends and I basically had bakmi ayam for every lunch we had during our university studies. Our campus was in Haymarket, right next to Sydney’s Chinatown, and there were a plethora of cheap and authentic Asian restaurants to go to. While we did occasionally go to other places, bakmi ayam was our staple. I remember sitting in my university lectures, looking at my watch and just waiting for lunch. It was always just assumed that we would have bakmi ayam for lunch. Looking back on it, it’s very surprising that I didn’t get sick of it. Some of my friends would occasionally put up a fight, but both the proximity of the Indonesian cafe (the Joy Cafe) and the tastiness of the dish were too easy to ignore. Bakmi ayam is an interesting dish.

At first glance, bakmi ayam doesn’t seem to be a complicated or exotic dish. It certainly doesn’t have the multi-layered textures of a lot of other Asian dishes or the exotic flavours of Thai or Malaysian food. However, there was something special about it that I could never put my finger on. The chicken had a unique flavour that I had no idea about, and the noodles were never too wet or dry – they seemed almost oily but without an abundance of oil. I always thought it was rather a mystical dish. It’s served with a nice, hot chicken broth, once again nothing extraordinary, but perfectly complimenting the chicken noodles. I always ate the dish without any accompaniments, whereas one of my friends always smothered it with sambal oelek (chilli sauce). I used to give my friend a lot of grief over his tendency to smother basically every dish that he ate with chilli – what was the point of ordering the dish if all you could taste was chilli? Ironically, probably because of my time living in Thailand, I now also love to use sambal oelek as an accompaniment to not just Indonesian dishes, but many other Asian dishes.

I was recently ruminating and reflecting on my university days, and I realised that, while I didn’t miss university at all, I really missed bakmi ayam. Then all of a sudden I realised something – why couldn’t I cook bakmi ayam myself? The thought of cooking such as dish during my university would never have occurred to me, as I wasn’t really into cooking back then. Given my fond memories of the dish, it’s not surprising that I cooked it the night after my epiphany. Making the chicken noodle element and the chicken broth are two distinct processes, and the latter is arguably more time-consuming and complicated than making the main dish. It was the first time that I made a broth using the carcass of a chicken – it was quite satisfying, as none of the chicken went to waste. The result was a genuine broth made from scratch, using no processed ingredients. As for the actual bakmi ayam, I started to figure out the puzzle that bakmi ayam had been for me in university. In particular, I realised that the primary flavours of the chicken came from kecap manis and oyster sauce. I knew that it would be very hard to recreate the same bakmi ayam that I had had 2-3 times weekly for five years, but I was very pleased with the outcome. The only part of the recipe I didn’t include was the bakso (meatballs), as they were never part of the broth at Joy Cafe. Bakmi ayam is a great recipe for people who want to cook authentic Indonesian food other than the better known nasi goreng and sate. 

Recipe (serves 2-3):

300g boneless & skinless chicken, cut into 2cm x 3cm pieces

2 cloves garlic, crushed and finely diced

3cm ginger piece, crushed and finely diced

2 tbs light soy sauce

1 tbs kecap manis

1 tbs oyster sauce

2 red shallots, finely sliced

400ml chicken stock

1 tbs tapioca starch, or 1 tsp cornflour

Fresh egg noodles, prepared as per instructions

Garlic-infused oil, or chicken oil

Bok choy or choy sum, blanched

Sambal bakso/oelek

Tongchai (Chinese preserved vegetable), to garnish

Spring onions, to garnish

Chicken broth

3L water

3cm ginger piece, finely diced

3 cloves garlic, finely diced

Bones and carcass of 1 chicken

4 red shallots, roughly sliced

10cm cane sugar stick, peeled and cut, or equivalent amount of white sugar

White pepper

Salt

2 spring onions, sliced diagonally

Bakso (meatballs)

To make the chicken broth, bring the water to the boil in a large pan. Add all the other broth ingredients except for the spring onions and bakso, and bring back to the boil. Reduce to a low heat and cook the broth for 30 mins. With 5 minutes left, add the bakso.

Meanwhile, combine a small amount of oil, half the soy sauce, the chicken and the ground white pepper in a wok or heavy-based frying pan. Add the tapioca starch and mix well. Remove from the wok.

In the same wok, stir-fry the garlic and ginger until fragrant, adding some more oil if required. Return the chicken to the wok and continue to cook, stirring frequently, until the chicken changes colour.

Add the shallots, oyster sauce, remaining soy sauce, kecap manis, stock, salt and ground white pepper, and cook until the seasoning is absorbed and the chicken is cooked.

In a bowl, combine 2½ tbs of garlic-infused, 2½ tbs of light soy sauce and a sprinkle of ground white pepper. Add 1 portion of the egg noodles, and mix well. Add the chicken and bok choy and garnish with tongchai and spring onions.

Pour some of the broth into a smaller bowl and add some bakso. Serve with sambal bakso/oelek.

Category: Indonesian

Source: http://indonesia-eats.blogspot.com

Rating: Four stars

Shellfish Chowder

Chowder is arguably one of the most comforting dishes to eat on a cold, winter night. I even ate it on quite a few occasions when I was living in Bangkok. The best supermarket for expats who are missing their local food is Gourmet Market, which is located in both Siam Paragon and the Emporium shopping centres. They always had a great range of chowders and bisques, and they were pretty much the only Western food that I ate while I was in Thailand. Seafood chowder is a beautiful and unique dish. Apart from the seafood, the basic ingredients of a chowder are relatively simple and almost what would be considered peasant food – potato, onion and bacon. These ingredients, combined with the delicious creamy soup, ensure that the seafood is not overwhelmed by exotic or overly robust flavours, and as such the flavour of the sea is the champion of a chowder.

You could add pretty much any type of seafood to a chowder – crustaceans, molluscs or fish. This recipe calls for clams, mussels and scallops. When preparing the seafood, it’s important to make sure that they have been scrubbed well and, in the case of mussels, de-bearded. De-bearding refers to the process of pulling out the hairy looking thing sticking out of the mussel. Don’t let it deter you from eating these! I used to find mussels quite unappealing, as they can often be tough and rubbery if overcooked. In this instance, they were cooked perfectly. Indeed, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten mussels that were so tender, and so I was very proud of that fact. One of the interesting things that I discovered in the course of preparing the chowder is the myth regarding mussels that fail to open after they have been cooked. The common belief is that if mussels don’t open, they aren’t suitable for eating. However, I discovered that it is, actually a myth. Unopened mussels are perfectly fine to eat – the reason for them not opening can just come down to the membrane of the mussel that is connected to the shell. Of course, if you want to be careful you can still throw these mussels out, but try to open them before you do so and you may discover that they’re perfectly fine, which is usually the case.

Chowder comes from the north-east of North America, namely New England and Newfoundland. There is a group of thought that chowder made its way to North America from France. While there are elements of this recipe that reflect French cooking, especially the use of thyme and white wine, there’s no concrete evidence that it actually came from France. As I’ve often said, a dish reflects the area from which it comes from, and chowder is certainly no exception. The north-east coast of North America has some of the best seafood in the world, especially crustaceans and molluscs. Seafood, subsequently, is a major part of the cuisine in that area and, given the very cold climate in those areas, a comforting soup that warms and fills the stomach and uses the freshest local produce is perfectly suited to the lifestyle of the locals. So I recommend this dish for a cold winter night, and crusty fresh bread, such as sourdough, is almost a necessity along with a nice glass of white wine.

Recipe (serves 4):

500g clams

500g mussels

8 scallops

1 cup water

½ cup dry white wine

1 bay leaf

8 sprigs thyme

2 brown onions, peeled & finely chopped

2 cloves garlic, finely diced (my addition)

4 rashers bacon, finely chopped

2 potatoes, peeled & finely chopped

2 cups single (pouring) cream

Sea salt & cracked black pepper

Soak the clams and mussels in cold water for 20 mins to remove any sand and drain. De-beard the mussels (pull and remove the hairy bit on the side of the mussel).

Place the clams, mussels, water, wine, bay leaf and thyme in a large saucepan. Cover and cook, shaking occasionally, over a medium heat for 5 mins.

Remove clams and mussels from the pan and discard any unopened ones. Reserve a few clams and mussels in their shells for serving. Remove the meat from the remaining ones and discard the shells. Strain the cooking liquid and set aside.

Cook the onion and bacon in a saucepan over a medium heat, stirring, until the onion is translucent. Add the potato, reserved cooking liquid and cream. Cover and simmer over a medium-low heat for 10 mins or until the potato is soft.

Add the scallops and cook for 2 mins, then add the clam and mussel meat, salt and pepper. Cook for 1 min or until warmed through. Serve in shallow bowls topped with the reserved clams and mussels in their shells and crusty bread on the side.

Cuisine: North American

Source: “Seasons” by Donna Hay

Rating: Five stars

Laksa with Beef and Dried Prawns (Guay Tio Kaew)

This laksa recipe from David Thompson is the War and Peace of laksa recipes, if not all Asian recipes. Indeed, it’s the most complicated, lengthy and labour-intensive recipe I’ve ever cooked. A brief look at the ingredients of the recipe indicates the multi-layered elements of this laksa. I actually prepared and cooked it over two nights – I prepared the laksa paste on the first night, which itself took longer than the usual laksa paste takes to make because of the unique method of char-grilling the garlic and ginger. In my opinion, it would just be impossible to cook this in a single night unless you had help from your partner or someone else (I cooked it by myself and so had to prepare all of the elements). I’m not saying at all that the effort isn’t worth it, but you need to be prepared to spend a great deal of time and energy in making this dish. While I always enjoy the process of cooking and creating, I must admit that it was a stressful dish to make, and by the time I had finished it, my shoulders and neck were so tense that I could barely turn my head. I think a great deal of the stress comes from time management – the timing of all the separate elements of this dish is quite important, and you need to make sure that you pay attention to all of these elements in order to bring them together at their peaks.

The recipe is quite unique and interesting, and in my opinion it’s actually arguable whether it ultimately is a laksa or not. It comes from Thai Street Food by David Thompson, perhaps the best non-native expert on Thai food (other than myself, of course). Certainly, laksa is not a Thai dish. It originates from Malaysia and Singapore, and to a lesser degree from Indonesia. Laksa is in my top three favourite foods in the world, what I call my 'desert island' foods. Everyone has probably asked themselves this hypothetical – if you were placed on a desert island and could only eat one dish for the rest of your life, what would it be? Well, one dish would become monotonous after a while, so I've altered the hypothetical to include three dishes. It’s one of those difficult questions to answer, such as what your favourite movie of all time is, because there are so many dishes that I love. I think the three would be stuffed crust pepperoni pizza (we’re all allowed an unsophisticated dish!), Thai red curry and laksa.

So I’m very familiar with laksa and its basic elements. Further, I lived and worked in Thailand for one and a half years, not to mention all the other times that I have travelled there, so I know a great deal about Thai cuisine. I was going to say that I know the A-Z of Thai cuisine, but it’s such a broad and regional cuisine that I think it’s impossible to cover the gamut of Thai food without immersing yourself in all areas of Thailand for many, many years. Basically, while this recipe is delicious, it’s not really a Thai dish in my opinion. Nowhere in Thailand have I ever come across a laksa – most Thai people don’t even know what laksa is! Further, it certainly isn’t considered a common form of street food, which Thailand is famous for. There are definitely elements of Thai cuisine in the dish, but to label it as not only a laksa but an example of Thai street food is, in my humble opinion, incorrect and a misrepresentation of Thai food. It actually more closely resembles a Thai red curry than a laksa, as the consistency of the ‘soup’ is quite thick, similar to red curries, whereas laksa soup is usually not nearly as viscous.

Saying all that, this dish is certainly worth the effort! The final result is a delicious combination of some of the best flavours of south-east Asian cooking. The fact that it isn’t exactly a laksa or a red curry, but something in between, is actually quite intriguing and provides a unique eating experience for lovers of Asian food. There could be an argument that there are too many competing flavours and elements to the dish, but south-east Asian food can be quite complex and layered. So prepare yourself in advance if you want to make this dish, which I recommend you do, and I recommend you make it as I did over two nights, unless, as I said, you are going to have help in making it. Just enjoy it for what it is – not a traditional Thai recipe, not an example of Thai street food, not really a laksa, but nevertheless a delicious, creative and ultimately fulfilling recipe.

Recipe (serves 2-3):

400g beef flank, cheek, shin or brisket

2 cups coconut milk

2¼ cups coconut cream

3 cups stock or water

Good pinch of salt

3 bay leaves

2 green cardamom pods

3cm cassia bark piece or cinnamon quill

2 pandanus leaves, knotted

2-3 tbs fish sauce

Pinch of white sugar

¼-½ tsp roasted chilli powder

Vegetable oil, for deep-frying

½ cup sliced red shallots

150g firm tofu

250g fresh rice vermicelli or 200g dried rice vermicelli, soaked for 20 mins

3 cups bean sprouts

¼ cup dried prawns, coarsely ground

2 tbs preserved Chinese vegetable (dtang chai) rinsed and drained

3 eggs, hardboiled, shelled and quartered

¼ cup roasted peanuts, coarsely ground

2 tbs chopped spring onions

2 tbs chopped coriander

Wedges of lime & roasted chilli powder to serve

Laksa paste

2 bamboo skewers

5 dried long red chillies

1 tbs coriander seeds

1 tsp cumin seeds

2-3 cloves

5 slices ginger

4 garlic cloves, unpeeled

3-5 dried bird’s eye chillies

Pinch of salt

2 tbs chopped lemongrass

1 tsp Thai shrimp paste

2 tsp curry powder for beef (see below)

Pinch of grated nutmeg

Curry powder for beef

5 long peppers known as pipalli or peepar (optional)

1 tsp black peppercorns

1½ tbs coriander seeds

1 tbs cumin seeds

1 tsp cloves

1 tsp fennel seeds

7 Thai cardamom pods or 4 green cardamom pods, husked

2 tbs turmeric powder

1½ tbs ground ginger

To make the curry powder for beef, grind the whole spices to a powder using a mortar and pestle. Add the turmeric and ginger, then pass the powder through a sieve. Store in the fridge.

Next, make the laksa paste. Soak the skewers in water for about 30 mins. Nip off the stalks of the dried long red chillies, then cut along their length and scrape out the seeds. Soak the chillies in water for about 15 mins until soft.

Meanwhile, separately roast the coriander, cumin and cloves in a dry, heavy-based frying pan, shaking the pan, until aromatic. Grind to a powder using a mortar and pestle.

Thread the ginger and garlic onto individual skewers. Grill all the skewers: the ginger need only be coloured, but the garlic must be charred and the flesh soft. Allow to cool, then peel the garlic.

Drain the soaked chillies, squeezing to extract as much water as possible, then roughly chop them. Rinse the dried bird’s eye chillies to remove any dust. Using a mortar & pestle, pound the long red chillies with the salt and, when reduced to a paste, add the bird’s eye chillies. Continue to pound, adding the lemongrass, galangal, shallots, ginger, garlic and shrimp paste, reducing each one to a fine paste before adding the next. Finally, stir in the ground spices, curry powder and nutmeg.

Place the beef in cling-wrap in the freezer for 30 mins beforehand. Trim the beef and cut into thin slices around 2cm thick. Rinse well and dry.

In a large saucepan or stockpot, bring the coconut milk, 2 cups of the stock and 1 cup of the coconut cream to the boil with the salt. Add the paste and, when it has dissolved, the beef. Simmer gently, stirring occasionally, until the beef is just cooked and beginning to become tender. This could take anywhere between 25-45 mins.

In a dry, heavy-based frying pan, briefly roast the cardamom or bay leaves, cardamom pods and cassia bark/cinnamon quill, then add them to the beef, along with the pandanus. Simmer for another 5 mins, skimming occasionally.

Return the soup to the boil (after the option of straining it) and add the fish sauce, sugar and chilli powder. Add the remaining cup of stock and another cup of the coconut cream. Leave to simmer very gently for several minutes, stirring as needed. It improves if left to stand for an hour or so at this point.

Meanwhile, pour the vegetable oil into a large, stable wok or a wide, heavy-based pan until it is about 2/3 full. Heat the oil over a medium-high flame until it reaches 180 degrees. Deep-fry the shallots in the oil until golden, stirring so they cook evenly, then drain on paper towel. Deep-fry the dried chillies for a few moments, then drain on paper towel. Pat the tofu dry and deep-fry it until it has a golden skin. Once drained, cut tofu into cubes. Reserve the oil as the Laksa may need to be enriched later.

When almost ready to serve, re-heat the soup and check the seasoning – it shouldn’t be too thick. The surface should be dappled with an attractive amount of oil. If not, add 1-2 tbs of the remaining oil.

Bring a large pan of salted water to a boil. Pull apart the rice noodle strands and add to the water, together with 2 cups of the bean sprouts. Simmer for a moment or two then drain and divide among four bowls. Add the beef and ladle over the soup.

Sprinkle the Laksa with the ground dried prawns, preserved Chinese vegetable, quarters of hard-boiled egg, roasted peanuts and the remaining cup of bean sprouts. Garnish each bowl with 1 tbs of the remaining coconut cream, 1 tbs of the deep-fried shallots, and some spring onion and coriander. Serve with wedges of lime and roasted chilli powder.

Cuisine: Thai (arguable)

Source: “Thai Street Food” by David Thompson

Rating: Four stars

Prawn Rougaille

Mauritius is a nation of beautiful tropical islands off the eastern coast of Africa, and it’s no surprise that seafood is dominant in its food culture. As I’ve said before, a nation’s cuisine is a reflection of that nation, particularly its history and culture. In the early days of sea-bound trade, Mauritius became a location along the spice trade between Europe, India and south-East Asia. It was first settled by the Dutch, but was abandoned and came into the hands of the French, both major influences in Mauritian cuisine. After the defeat of Napoleon, the British became the next imperialist power to rule over Mauritius and its people until its independence in 1968. So, like many countries and strategic locations, such as South Africa, India, Sicily and Singapore, a variety of cultures have had their impact upon Mauritius and its own cultural development.

This recipe, Prawn Rougaille, is a reflection of those influences and how they have shaped the cuisine of Mauritius. Within this dish are elements from French, Arabian, Indian and Asian flavours. The dish is very spicy, and it gains its heat from the emergence of chilli in Asian cuisine, brought back by the ships along the spice trading route. The use of coriander in the dish, also a key ingredient in south-east Asian cooking, provides a great balance to the heat from the chillies in the dish, and allows the tender prawns to provide a source of heat, but not overbearing. India, one of the major stops along the spice trade, also exhibits elements of its cuisine in the dish and Mauritian cuisine in general, as the rougaille is served with basmati rice to absorb the sauce and condiment the spicy prawns. Cumin, one of the most widely used spices in Middle Eastern cuisine, is used to provide an earthy depth of flavour to the dish. Finally, French influences abound in the dish, most obviously exhibited by the name of the recipe. Typical ingredients in French cooking such as garlic, parsley, thyme, extra virgin olive oil and white wine are key elements in the rougaille, and provide the real flavours to the dish.

As can be seen, this recipe, a reflection of Mauritius, is a melting pot of cultures coming together to form a unique and delicious form of cuisine. This dish is also an example of why I love cooking and why I’m looking forward to cooking and tasting food from every country and culture in the world. Second only to travelling there, it is perhaps the best way to experience and understand a culture, as food plays a central role throughout every culture in the world, and our passions, beliefs and influences create our cuisine. As for the recipe itself, the one thing I didn’t follow was the instruction to keep the heads of the prawns on. I’m sorry, but that just didn’t sit well with me, as I’m used to discarding the disgusting heads when I peel and de-vein prawns. I must admit that one thing that did surprise me about this dish is how spice it is. I’m not sure why it was so spicy, as I have a high tolerance for spice and, to be perfectly honest, 2 chillies is not a huge amount compared to other dishes that I’ve cooked and found much less spicy. Perhaps I actually added more but can’t remember it, but, although I loved the dish, I actually had to eat it in small spurts because the heat from the chilli was almost overbearing. For those that don’t like spicy foods, you could still use the red chillies but remove the seeds from them, as the seeds provide the real heat. Other than that, the elements of the dish came together beautifully. The French elements came together with the cumin and the rice wonderfully, and show that fusion of different cuisines can achieve delicious results.

Recipe (serves 4):

1kg king prawns, peeled (heads & tails left on)

½kg tomatoes, peeled & chopped

2 red or green chillies, finely chopped

1 tbs garlic, finely diced

½ bunch parsley, finely chopped

2 sprigs of thyme

1 tbs ground cumin

1 tsp white pepper

2 tbs extra virgin olive oil

1 Spanish onion, diced

½ cup white wine

1 tsp salt

1 tsp paprika

½ bunch coriander, chopped

In a frying pan, heat the oil over a medium heat and add the onions and half of the garlic, cooking until golden. Pour in half the wine to soften the onions.

Add the tomatoes and cook for a few minutes over a high heat until the liquid has reduced.

Stir in the salt, pepper, paprika, cumin and a drizzle of olive oil. Add the thyme, parsley and chillies and reduce to a simmer.

In a separate frying pan, fry the remaining garlic in some olive oil. Add the prawns, season with pepper and cook for 2 mins. Pour in the remaining wine to deglaze the pan.

Transfer the prawns to the Rougaille and stir through the coriander. Serve with basmati rice.

Cuisine: Mauritian

Source: www.sbs.com.au  

Rating: Four stars

Aussie Meat Pies

While I certainly am revelling in cooking cuisine from all around the world, I haven’t turned my back on my native cuisine – Australian. I’m sure some people would say that Australia doesn’t have a unique or identifiable cuisine, unlike Thai, Italian, Mexican and Indian. One of the great things about Australia, however, is that it is a very multicultural country, and this is particularly reflected in its culinary tastes. Most Australians eat a variety of different cuisines on a regular basis, and Asian food in particular has a high level of prominence in the Australian food experience. I think it’s a wonderful reflection of how multicultural and diverse Australian society is, particularly in Sydney and Melbourne. And may I say, the quality of Asian food in Australia is drastically higher than it is in North America.

Saying all that, Australia definitely has its own unique dishes and flavours, and I don’t believe anything comes close to a meat pie when considering the fundamental Australian dishes. As I continue to cook food from all around the world, I am endeavouring to cook as many national dishes as possible, as national dishes are a reflection of the nature of that society and culture, and the people of that culture have a strong relationship with those foods. This is certainly the case with Aussie meat pies, which have a ubiquitous presence throughout all of Australia, both in the cities and the “bush”. Meat pies definitely reflect Australian values – they are unpretentious, perfect for socialising with mates, and are wonderful when paired with beer and sport. It doesn’t get much better than going to the footy or the cricket with your mates and having a meat pie and a couple of beers. A prominent visitor to Australia (who I can’t recall at the moment but it may have been Bill Clinton) once said that no one does weekends like Australians. I agree with that statement because, contrary to popular belief outside Australia, Australians are amongst the hardest workers in the world, with some of the longest working hours in the world. As such, we enjoy our weekends, which are invariably filled with sport, socialising and, at the heart of all of these, food.

I absolutely love my meat pies, and along with lamb, they were the things I missed the most when I was living in Thailand (food-wise, that is). There are a variety of meat pies enjoyed in Australia, but the simple beef meat pie with some gravy is the staple and, in my view, the most enjoyable. In a way, they are comparable to American hot dogs. You don’t necessarily always want to know what’s in the meat pie that you’ve just bought – various odd cuts of meat and perhaps even a “golf ball” worth of fat. Well, those concerns are all allayed when you prepare and cook your own meat pies, as you obviously know the source of all the ingredients and you can tailor it to your tastes. This recipe was delicious – so delicious in fact that it didn’t need any tomato sauce to accompany it! I was slightly daunted at the prospect of making pies, as although they look like pretty simple fare, it’s a rather technical process that requires attention to detail to ensure that the meat is perfectly encased within the pastry. I was very proud with how they turned out. Indeed, it’s one of the proudest moments so far of my cooking adventures, and it’s given me the confidence to cook with pastry. Now that I’ve made the basic Aussie meat pie, I will be branching out to make some more delicious and diverse pies not just from Australia, but also from around the world.

Recipe (makes 4 pies):

1 tbs olive oil

1 large brown onion, finely chopped

500g lean beef mince

1 tbs cornflour

4 garlic cloves, finely diced

¾ cup beef stock (or beer)

½ cup tomato sauce

2 tbs Worcestershire sauce

1 tbs barbecue sauce

1 tsp Vegemite

2 sheets frozen, ready-rolled shortcrust pastry, thawed

2 sheets frozen puff pastry, thawed

1 egg, beaten

Heat oil in a saucepan over a medium-high heat. Add the onion and garlic and cook for 3 mins or until soft. Add the mince and cook for 4 mins or until browned.

Mix the cornflour and 1 tbs of stock to form a paste, and add to the pan. Add the stock, sauces and Vegemite and bring to the boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer for 8 mins or until thick. Set aside and let cool.

Preheat oven to 220 degrees Celsius. Place a baking tray into the oven. Grease 4 pie pans than have an 8cm base measurement.

Cut 4 x 15cm circles from the shortcrust pastry, and use to line the bases and sides of the pans. Fill with mince and brush the rims with water. Cut 4 x 15cm circles from the puff pastry and place over the meat. Press to seal. Trim the sides, brush with the beaten egg and season.

Place pies onto the baking tray and bake for 20-25 mins or until golden. Serve.

Cuisine: Australian

Source: www.taste.com.au

Rating: Four stars

Butter Chicken

A friend of mine once said to me that every dish has a story, and butter chicken certainly has a story in my life. One of my best friends is Indian (actually I have a few Indian friends – I’m including Sri Lankan in that category!!!), and we’ve been friends since the first year of highschool. I think it’s generally agreed that everyone believes that their mother’s cooking is the best, and that’s certainly the case with my mother. However, the first time I ate my friend’s mum’s butter chicken, I fell in love with it straight away. It was definitely one of the most delicious meals I had ever eaten in my life, so wonderfully fragrant and authentic. It became a standing arrangement that whenever I went to my friend’s house, his mother would cook butter chicken – I just NEEDED it! So, while I’m obviously biased towards my mother’s cooking and the dishes I grew up with, my friend’s mum came to have a special place in my heart through her beautiful Indian food.

At lunch time at highschool, I would often see my friend’s lunch and want to smack him down with pangs of jealousy. Most of the time he would have delicious-looking Indian food that I presumed were leftovers from dinner the previous evening. Although I must admit that by the last two years of highschool, he seemed to have an inordinate amount of leftover pizza. I suppose I was still envious then, though. Whenever I was at my friend’s house in highschool, I was always waiting for his mum’s food. One of my favourite memories involves when I stayed at my friend’s place overnight as we both undertook the 40 Hour Famine. We were absolutely pathetic! After only a few hours or so, we were already thinking of ways around the ban on eating, and even came up with some alternatives. The two favourite alternatives, to the best of my recollection, were not talking for 40 hours, or not writing for 40 hours. We were particularly excited about the latter, as what would we bloody write on the weekend? Not to mention the fact that it wouldn’t have stopped us from typing something on the computer, not that we were going to do that either. We vacillated and our stomachs grumbled, but we decided to stick it out and we made it through the 40 hours. I remember looking at my watch and waiting for his mum’s food. In a way, I was glad that it wasn’t butter chicken, because I think the sudden switch from no food to the addictive butter chicken would have put me into shock and maybe have even shut down my nervous system. His mum made us a beautiful Chicken Spaghetti Bolognese, and I thought that I would wolf it down within five minutes. As it turned out, I didn’t actually eat that much of it because my stomach had obviously shrunk even within that small period of time. It was still one of the most satisfying meals I have ever eaten, though.

So butter chicken was one of the first recipes that I cooked in this cooking journey. In a way, it’s similar to my Thai red curry with chicken. Red curry is my favourite dish of all time, and trying to cook it to the standard that I was used to in Thailand was virtually impossible. I knew that I would never be able to achieve the same degree of perfection as my friend’s mum, but I now have a lifelong love affair with butter chicken because of her and I was determined to cook it for myself from scratch. I love now making all my pastes and spice mixtures from scratch rather than purchasing pre-packaged jars. I’m sure that there will be times in my life again when I will used jarred sauces, obviously when I’m busy and stressed, but I have enough flexibility in my life at the moment to put a lot of effort into my cooking. This recipe for butter chicken attracted me just by the picture – I had looked for quite a few recipes, and this seemed to look like a very rich and traditional recipe. It was very delicious, and, although Lamb Rogan Josh is also one of my favourite dishes, butter chicken will always be my favourite Indian recipes. I wonder if my friend’s mum will give me her recipe? I suspect he won’t let her. I’m just fortunate to have experienced it, and hope to experience it again soon!

Recipe (serves 2-3):

500g chicken, cubed

1½ tsp garam masala

1 pinch cayenne pepper

1½ tbs cornflour

1/3 cup water

Peanut oil

Sauce

Peanut oil

1 shallot, chopped

½ onion, chopped

3 tbs butter

3 tsp lemon juice

4 garlic cloves

½ tbs ginger

1½ tsp garam masala

1½ tsp chilli powder

1½ tsp ground cumin

1 bay leaf

1/3 cup plain yoghurt

1 1/3 cups cream

1 1/3 cups tomato paste

1 pinch salt

1 pinch pepper 

Heat the oil in a large saucepan over a medium heat. Sauté the shallot, garlic and onion until soft and translucent.

Add the butter, lemon juice, ginger, garam masala, chilli powder, cumin and bay leaf. Stir for 1 minute.

Add the tomato paste and cook for 2 minutes, stirring frequently. Stir in the cream and yoghurt. Reduce the heat to low and simmer for 10 minutes, stirring frequently. Season with salt & pepper. Remove from heat and set aside.

Heat oil in a large, heavy skillet over a medium heat. Cook the chicken for about 10 minutes or until lightly browned.

Reduce the heat and season with garam masala and cayenne pepper. Stir in a few spoonfuls of sauce and simmer until the liquid has reduced.

Add the chicken to the sauce. Add the cornflour and water (pre-mixed) and cook for 5-10 minutes, or until sauce has thickened.

Serve with Jasmine rice and garnish with coriander leaves.

Cuisine: Indian

Source: www.bigoven.com

Rating: Four stars

Beef Rendang

Beef Rendang is one of my favourite dishes, and, at least since I’ve returned from Sydney, I eat it at least once a week, although this was the first time that I cooked it myself. It is one of the most popular dishes in Malaysian cuisine, and it seems to have a level of complexity that Malaysians, or at least those in the know, are able to easily overcome. For instance, there are two great Malaysian restaurants (more life fast-food places if you know what I mean) in the city that I get food from often, specifically Beef Rendang, Laksa and Malaysian Chicken Curry, which I plan to cook next week for my parents. The first one is Laksa House on the bottom level of the Queen Victorian Building (QVB), which I’m sure many of you would be familiar with. The second place, which I think is slightly better than Laksa House, is Malay Chinese Takeaway on Hunter Street near the corner of Castlereagh St. It’s an absolutely no-frills type of place, sort of hole-in-the-wall which you often find the best dishes in when you travel throughout Asia. Indeed, if you get there at 11:55, you can go straight up to the counter and order, but ten minutes later there is a queue of at least 20 people because it’s so popular. Their dishes are authentic and just so delectable, and their Beef Rendang just falls apart.

I do believe that that is the key element, or at least one of the key elements, of Beef Rendang. The beef in all the great rendangs that I have tasted have obviously been slow cooked and are melt in your mouth. There is absolutely no toughness in the meat, and as such the texture is probably my most favourite texture for a meat. One of the other key elements in the dish is the gravy. Firstly, the gravy needs to have those authentic Malay flavours such as lemongrass, chilli, galangal and palm sugar, echoing many of the flavours of Thailand and South-East Asian cuisine in general. The cuisine in South-East Asia is at the same time remarkably diverse and yet reliant upon the same primary herbs and spices. Malaysian cuisine is particularly similar to Indonesian cuisine, and they both have similar but unique versions of well known and much loved dishes such as Nasi Goreng and Laksa. Throughout my cooking adventures to come, I plan to cook the Malaysian, Indonesian and even Bruneian versions of Nasi Goreng so that I can gain a perspective of the different approach to this dish. Anyway, returning to the gravy for the Beef Rendang, it also needs to be thick and sufficient to provide enough moisture to accompany the beef. Sometimes, due to the slow cooking method of the beef which can leech out much of the moisture from the beef, the gravy needs to be close to perfect – too thick and it can make the dish dry; too thin and the richness of the spices is lost and the beef won’t achieve the right texture.  

This particular rendang recipe is from Neil Perry, and given that he is arguably Australia’s best chef, I was excited that I had finally found the perfect recipe for rendang that would give me the beef texture and gravy consistency that I love to buy from places like Malay Chinese Takeaway. Let me say firstly that the dish was quite delicious and I enjoyed it as I do all Asian food. Having said that, it didn’t live up to my expectations, as the gravy was thick but was not voluminous enough to accompany the beef, and the beef didn’t achieve that soft, crumbling texture that is involved with beef rendang. Further, the flavours, while still delicious as I said, were sometimes overwhelmed by the amount of chilli used in the dish, whereas beef rendang is usually not a spicy dish at all. The curry paste calls for 12 long red chillies, and even though they are de-seeded, they provided too much spice for a rendang recipe. Next time, I will cut the amount of chilli in half, and increase the amount of liquid involved in the cooking process. As for the beef, the recipe is ambiguous on the cut of beef required. Obviously, I presumed that a cut of beef suited for stewing or slower cooking, such as blade or chuck steak, were ideal, but the beef didn’t tenderise to the degree that I had wanted. I’m not sure if there are more suitable cuts of beef for a dish such as this. I’m starting to wonder if these Malaysian kitchens have access to a secret type of beef that I have no idea about!!! Can anyone help me out with this? I did see that there is a cut of beef called ‘Gravy Beef’ which seems to imply that it would be suitable for a recipe like this and might tenderise to the point of breaking down, but no matter how long I seem to cook chuck or blade steak, I can never reach that melting consistency in the beef.

While my cooking adventures are about constantly discovering new dishes from different parts of the world, they are also about finding and perfecting recipes that I love. So, I will be looking for another Beef Rendang recipe and will keep cooking it until I find a recipe that I’m happy with it. As ever, I will keep everyone up to date on my cooking travails, and invite comments and suggestions from all.

Recipe (serves 2-3):

800g beef, cubed

150g rendang curry paste (see below)

600ml coconut milk

1½ tbs tamarind paste

6 kaffir lime leaves, crushed

1½ tbs grated palm sugar

Rendang curry paste

15g shrimp paste

1 red onion, roughly chopped

5g fresh turmeric, grated, or 1 tsp ground turmeric

Finely grated zest of 1 lime (kaffir lime best)

40g ginger, finely chopped

40g galangal, finely chopped

1 lemongrass stem, white part only chopped

12 long red chillies, deseeded & chopped

8 garlic cloves, finely chopped

Wrap shrimp paste in foil and roast for about 10 mins in a medium oven or until fragrant.

Blend all paste ingredients together until a smooth paste is formed.

Heat a large wok or pan then add the curry paste and fry for around 3 mins or until fragrant.

Add the beef, coconut milk, tamarind and kaffir lime leaves. Simmer, uncovered, for 1-1½ hours until the meat is tender and the gravy has thickened, stirring frequently.

Finally, add the palm sugar and salt to taste. Serve with Nasi Lemak or steamed rice.

Cuisine: Malaysian

Source: “Good Food” by Neil Perry

Rating: Three and a half stars

Equatorial Guinean Grilled Fish with Three Sauces

When I started this cooking adventure, I wanted to cook food from some of my favourite cuisines, especially Asian and Italian, but as the adventure has progressed I’ve become even more curious about international cuisine and what it says about different cultures all throughout this world. So, through this blog, I plan to cook recipes from every country in the world, while continuing to return often to my favourite cuisines. After all, I really don’t think I can go three meals in a row without one of them being Asian! I now have a list of recipes to cook from every country in the world, and when possible, I’m going to cook what is considered to be the national dish of each country. For instance, I have recipes for Bulgogi from Korea, Bobotie from South Africa, Kormeh Sabzi from Iran and Bacon and Egg Pie from New Zealand. It’s an exciting thought of everything that I have ahead of me, and I really think it lives up to the title of this blog – Dishing Up The World.

This recipe, Equatorial Guinean Grilled Fish with Three sauces, is one of the traditional and staple recipes of that country. As I’ve researched recipes from all around the world, I’ve come to notice many patterns and tastes in various regions. In this case, the importance of peanut butter in Central African cooking has stood out to me. I’d already cooked a dish from Benin that also uses large quantities of peanut butter (Lamb and Peanut Stew), and this dish is yet another example of how common peanut butter, or what Africans often call groundnut, is in their cooking. I’m assuming it’s because it’s quite easy to obtain, it’s native and it’s cheap, as we all know that African cuisine is quite earthy and “of the land”. One of the things that I loved about this dish is that, on one hand it has that very simple, earthy element to it, and yet the three sauces provide such an interesting dimension to the fish and provide so many flavours of Africa.

The fish itself in this recipe is the easy part. The marinade doesn’t take long to prepare. The important thing is to try to achieve the colour that is produced by Palm Oil. I say this because many people refuse to use palm oil for conscientious reasons (deforestation of palm trees) or health reasons (it’s very high in cholesterol, accounting for the wonderful taste of Thai street food!), and it’s extremely difficult to find. I looked in my local Asian and Indian food stores, and they didn’t have any. The reason why you need to think about how to substitute palm oil effectively rather than with just a random oil is that it has a very unique, rich red colour, and this provides a wonderful red/orange sheen to the food. There are two options for substituting palm oil. You could make a simple swap with coconut oil, which I found in my local Indian spice shop, which is rather close to palm oil in terms of flavour, but not colour. Or, and this is the option that I chose, you can use the equivalent amount of peanut oil but stir in some turmeric and paprika to the oil in order to achieve the colour. As you can see from the photo, this did provide the fish with a crisp, orange skin that looked, in my opinion at least, rather appetising.

The fish aside, the real ‘cooking’ involved with this dish is preparing the three sauces, all of which provide a distinct and appetising accompaniment for the fish. Something that has come to annoy me is the lack of availability of scotch bonnet chillies in Australia. This recipe calls for lots of scotch bonnet chillies and habanero chillies, which are much spicier than regular red or green chillies or even bird’s eye chillies. Scotch bonnet chillies seem to be easily available in Europe and North America, but not in Australia. To substitute scotch bonnets, you should use double the amount of green chillies with the seeds in. I still think this doesn’t provide the heat factor that scotch bonnets and habaneros would, as this recipe was surprisingly not spicy, although very delicious. Prior to making the recipe, I anticipated that I would enjoy the peanut sauce the most, followed by the avocado sauce and the spinach sauce coming in last. As it turned out, the spinach sauce was my favourite by quite a clear margin, I think because of the beautiful smoky flavour provided by the smoked salmon. The peanut sauce was also nice, and was much thicker and drier than I thought it would be. While the avocado sauce provided a relatively flavoursome alternative to the other sauces, I did find it rather bland compared to the other two. So it was wonderful to enjoy the tastes of Equatorial Guinea and many elements of their daily cuisine, and recipes such as this that provide a genuine insight into traditional food and preparation are extremely enjoyable to make.

Recipe (serves 4):

4 firm fish steaks, about 200g each (eg kingfish, swordfish, mackerel, barramundi or tuna)

2 garlic cloves, crushed & finely diced

1 scotch bonnet, minced or pounded to a paste (or 2 green chillies)

125ml lime juice

3 tbs coconut oil or palm oil

Salt & pepper to taste

Guinean Peanut Sauce (see below)

Guinean Spinach Sauce (see below)

Guinean Avocado Sauce (see below)

Guinean Peanut Sauce

500ml chicken stock

½ onion, diced

Pinch of oregano

2 garlic cloves, finely diced

1 tsp lemon juice

1 tbs tomato paste

Pinch of cayenne pepper

200ml peanut butter

½ habanero chilli, pounded to a paste (or 1 green chilli)

2 bay leaves

Salt & pepper to taste

3 tbs oil

Guinean Spinach Sauce

300g spinach, de-stemmed and finely chopped

100g smoked fish, flaked

½ large onion, chopped

30ml peanut butter

350ml warm water

180ml palm oil (or peanut oil with some turmeric and paprika for colour)

1 scotch bonnet chilli, left whole but scored (or 2 green chillies)

Guinean Avocado Sauce

200ml beef stock

200ml water

½ chilli, pounded to a paste

½ tomato, chopped

1 tbs lemon juice

1 large avocado, thinly sliced

2 tbs peanut butter

Rinse the fish then drain and pat dry with paper towels. Season the fish liberally with salt & pepper then place in a glass or ceramic baling dish. Add the garlic and chillies, then pour the lime juice over the top. Turn a few times to ensure they’re evenly coated, cover with foil, then place in the fridge to marinate for 1½ hours.

Meanwhile, prepare the sauces. To prepare the peanut sauce, fry the onion and garlic in the oil until soft. Pound the tomato and chilli together into a paste and add to the pan. Fry for a few minutes then add all the remaining ingredients. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook, uncovered, for 30 mins or until desired consistency is reached.

To prepare the spinach sauce, fry the onion in a little of the palm oil until softened. Mix the peanut butter with the water and add to the pot along with the other ingredients. Bring to a boil and simmer for 20 mins or until well thickened. Add the palm oil, remove the chillies and cook for a further 10 mins.

To prepare the avocado sauce, bring the stock to a boil and add all the ingredients except the peanut butter. Reduce to a simmer and cook for 20 mins. Extract 6 tbs of the broth, mix with the peanut butter and return to the pot. Cook for a further 10 mins, and serve warm.

When ready to cook the fish, heat a grill or barbecue. Drain the fish, pat dry and then brush with the palm oil and season with salt & pepper. Cook for about 4 mins per side, arrange on a plate and serve with the sauces.

Cuisine: Equatorial Guinean

Source: www.healthy-life.narod.ru

Rating: Four stars