Tropical Cooking

As fluidly shaped by the rock face

The newly opened Restaurant T in the Chaoyang district in Beijing offers a dining experience fit for a king. The limited edition premium iced sake, which tastes almost like a smooth merlot, is served in delicate glassed cups; individually chosen by the diners from a profusion of colours, design, shapes and sizes. I'm almost inclined to believe that your choice profoundly influences the individualized menu the resident chef customizes to optimize your dinner tete-a-tete.

And he delivers to your heightened expectations right to the tee. The teppanyaki beef melts in your mouth, as any Australian cow raised with the Japanese technique in China should. The luscious spread of tempura is beautifully accompanied by an equally divine spread of dipping sauces, while the taste and texture of his sushi surpass the promised feast his presentation offers.

And as he would create a menu to his diners' discerning palates, I'd comply with whim and fancy of the tropical seasons:  summery dishes when the months are blisteringly hot and coyly humid - like pan-fried fresh salmon fillets dressed with caramelized lemon, with a refreshing mint & zucchini salad on the side. Or a healthy bed of fresh bean sprouts, garden-harvested basil topped with succulent spice-laden chicken and dressed with a Vietnamese inspired cocktail of sensations. And then wander off to cleanse the palate with the potent alcoholic ice-cream concoctions dished out by Udders. 

And when the thunderous relentless monsoons hit in December, I can then luxuriate in more than re-heating freshly baked bread in the oven. Into this gas inferno I'd shove a pyrex of bubbling cheesy salmon, zucchini and spinach macaroni. And complement that with a roasted sweet potato and toasted pine nut green salad, drizzled with warmed honey and potent red wine vinegar swimming in extra-virgin olive oil.  Or slow cook the lamb till it almost falls off its shank! And zoom off after to indulge in a rich Grand Marnier souffle at Au Petit Salut.

     

Off with the Veal

With beef you enter a labyrinth of sensations

I've always said that had I not found Mr Right, I'll like to mature with a different man on my arm when I attend a live theater performance. Yes, I drew inspiration for this from renown local author Catherine Lim as I'd personally, at the Victoria Theater, spied her splendidly dressed, and being escorted by an equally dishy gent. And it would  be a different gentleman each time for her, some as mature as vintage wine, and others newly bottled. And that is where she and I differed: I've always had a distinct preference for bottles taken out of the cellar and dusted before uncorking it. It makes for more interesting dinner conversation.

So is it any wonder then that I'll pass the colourless veal by anytime?

Fortunately, I didn't throw the baby out with the bath water. No, I'd simply swapped the youthful cuts for the more robust flavours of a full bodied medium rare steak. And I can do so without twigging the ingredients that accompany the veal as the original bland cut of meat needs spicing up with rather strong seasonings in the first place.

So to my delight the fresh slab of beef's mature twang simply adds greater pinkish depth after it's been roasted with a delightful repertiore of French herbs and spices, as instructed. The same can be said when the richly red chunks of chuck tender is finely minced with a company of fragrant ingredients the Italians use to whip up a polpette - in this case, a beef polpette worthy as the piece de resistance when hubby brings work mates home for dinner.  

Now before you start thinking that all veal recipes require a battalion of herbs and spices, the meat exchange does as well when the recipe calls for the addition of only a few simple ingredients. You can still "chase the yum" when you serve up a sugared cherry tomato and roughly chopped basil sauce for the grilled slab of ribeye. As you can entice guests to "oo la la" by tossing beautifully aged balsamic vinegar with julienned streaky bacon, very woody porchini mushrooms and French shallots for smothering the pan-fried fillets of beef.

So leave the veal where it belongs: in the chorus line. The humble butcher is getting the mature grass-fed bovine ready as the new stars of your cooking show.

The "Chef"'s Way to Hubby's Heart

So enticing is the beef, you'll even fish for it, if need be

Australian men have an intense love affair with red meat. It seduces their sense of manhood when it’s paired with a richly potent red wine. But if you think they’ll be content to stand by the barbecue pit a couple of times a week to grill the slabs of air flown well marbled beef, you’ll quickly be sadly mistaken. The way to their hearts is by demonstrating the culinary finesse of serving up this succulent meat in a diversity of ways.

So romance your hubby by beginning the week with an Australian favourite: beef and mushroom casserole, generously drenched in what else but an extra dry red! That will definitely put him in the mood for what you’ve put on the menu come Wednesday - a healthier choice of grilled fillet of beef with gremolata. He’ll be cheerful about stoking the charcoal to build a hearty flame, while you’ll have the simple affair of tossing together the freshly chopped parsley with lemony juice and zest. All that you’ll need to remember is being gentle in garnishing the medium rare steaks that he’s prepared, and he’ll yet again offer a toast to your culinary skills.

Then he’ll be in the loving mood for dining in Fridays. So entice him further by looking international for divine inspirations. Sautee the sirloin in the Greek fashion – with sherry soaked horseradish and crush peppercorns. This brewing “potion” will put him in the mood for taking you dancing till the wee hours of the morning.

Well then, the perfect dish for Saturday night is a ribeye shot through with an over-load of caffeine. That’s right, good old expresso! But let’s not leave out the kirsch. It takes nothing more than an added second for that topping to whip up his appetite for seconds. Oh, both are absolutely vital in perking him up to take you on a candle-lit stroll around  MacRitchie Reservior.

And you’ll have won him over to try a Lebanese take on preparing a steak the week following these. Serve it piping hot on olive ciabatta, freshly baked by da Paolo Gastronomia, and he’ll be eating out of your hand. 

The Craft of Cooking

A signature style as divinely crafted as this sunset by God 

Beating the group tour hands down is a self-drive holiday through the Isle of Skye: I absolutely love the luxury of stopping when ever I want at where ever I’m inspired to linger to admire the splendidly multi-coloured sky cresting over majestic mountains, the ancient medieval castle architecture, the local artists creating their next master piece, the wonderfully diverse bird life, or the island’s heavenly divine cuisine – especially that served by Three Chimneys.

Now, in the same league as a holiday, where you go where the road takes you, is a dish you’ve whipped up without strictly toeing the line. You get the same luxuriated freedom to personalize a recipe in ways that will heighten the pleasure of casually dining on a week night with hubby and children in tow. It really boils down to individualizing it, even if it’s a well-loved one, to tantalize the family’s palates, with what’s conveniently available in your well-stocked pantry.

So if those who dine at your table aren’t really into the very, very spicy, cut down on the crushed cardamom seeds when you serve a succulently sweet peachy dessert that’s dressed in a yoghurt jazzed up with a repertoire of Indian spices. And you would automatically tone down the zing from the crushed ginger and red chillies you toss into the curry as well.

At the same time, you have the same splendid liberty to improvise on the preparation and cooking techniques. When time is of the essence, do away with the need to caramelize freshly picked fruit. Try recently canned peaches in sugary syrup instead: it makes a great short cut, which you garnish with the mildly spiced yoghurt. And you’ll refrain from adding into the curry the creamy coconut milk together with the fragrant chicken stock. Do that only after the heated stock has taken its time to cook the chicken well. Then the coconut juices blend smoothly into the curry, further aromatizing it.     

As such, the dishes you’ve crafted in your kitchen becomes your signature style, uniquely your own.   

The Yin and Yang with Pork

Recipes so enticing the centurion leaves his post

Your know what they say: no one makes pizza the way the Italians do. So it becomes a very pleasant surprise when you get served pizza extraordinaire in the very heart of Lucerne. The divinely appointed Hotel des Balances houses an equally divine restaurant that successfully offers in its delectable menu this time-honoured Italian dish.

The secret to its success is in its novel presentation of two beautifully contrasting flavours. The side shaped as yin  has a very subtle sweet "Hawaiian" enticement, while its yang digs deep into Italy's savoury roots.   As such, lunch in this quintessential hotel makes the vacation even more memorable.

I get that same feeling of ecstasy too when I have to make up my mind to how I'll dress or drench the serve of  pork. For unlike beef or lamb, the cuts from this organically farmed animal can be easily marinated in either the yin or yang fashion.

When my palate heavily leans towards the savoury, I'm normally tossed between a gravy rich red curry, generously stirred through with creamy sweet potato, or a Sichuan five-spicy dish that's refreshingly balanced with a cool yoghurt-laden cucumber salad. And as both are as wonderfully seductive to friends and family, I'd often resorted to tossing a coin. Yes, both are really that yummy!

But when I'm in the mood for a yin, my immediate instinct runs towards a cut of white meat glazed with marmalade, no less from Prince Charles' Duchy Originals. Be generous with the glaze and you can almost imagine hubby, with you, dining with royalty. But if you're in the mood for a cosy dinner for two,  then whip up a batch of garden-fresh apple sauce. And ensure that you make enough to daintily smother the juicy cutlets.        

And if you wish to embark on an experience that mirrors the pizza prepared in the Swiss hotel's style, there's always the trusted but inspirational sweet and sour pork chops. Do it well, and you have creatively aspired to salivate over it like most Chinese - oh, it's so delicious it's basically comfort food.

The Flavours of Substitution

Be game: Try brush turkey over quail

“Sherry and marsala… if used in place of port or Madeira… tend to give an un-French flavour to most French recipes.”

                                                     -  Julia Child in Mastering the Art of French Cooking

Fortunately, this culinary rule of thumb doesn’t apply to switching between dry sherry and Chinese rice wine.  You see, though sherry was first potently concocted in the Spanish town, Jerez, it doesn’t do the same damage to New Asian cuisine. In fact, it intensifies the flavour of vermicelli drenched with slivers of beautifully grass-fed beef and asparagus, as charmingly green as a fresh harvest.

This holds true too when you switch between white vinegar and balsamic vinegar: even though there is an obvious change in colour, the test is in the taste. And that it passes with flying colours. When Thai chilli sauce has been carefully drenched with balsamic instead, you would still want it prepared in no order way, as it becomes the perfect foil to generously dip the delightfully coriander-crumbed ginger shrimps in. This New Asian tapas becomes a definite serve during a cocktail party.

Now, in case you begin to think that the above cooking tip doesn’t apply to more traditional cuisines, go ahead and try substituting white wine vinegar with white wine and balsamic vinegar when you serve dinner guests with Shawarma. The Lebanese spiced baked steaks absolutely sing in this new drenching. Accompanied by a glass of cabernet merlot, the evening turns into a loving serenade.

So the trick in avoiding the faux pas mentioned by dearest Julia Child is this: know the taste of the original ingredient well enough to successfully choose a substitute sharing similar flavours. Then you’ll have little worries about being in harmony with the traditional essence of a dish.


And you don't ever have to stock both sherry AND rice wine in your pantry! 

Recipes Re-mixed

As blended as Swiss concrete with the natural.

Shintori reflects what the French Concession is to its city, Shanghai. You walk through a narrow minimalist corridor of lush prolific bamboo and enter a sparsely lit industrial warehouse replete with equally minimalist place settings. But if you were to naturally anticipate that the resident chef has a modern cooking technique along the lines of Heston Blumenthol’s signature philosophy, you’ll be further pleasantly surprised that this restaurant actually serves not just authentic Japanese cuisine, but Far Eastern fare that steps one up on the likes of Tatsu Sushi in Chimjes here. The element of un-expected harmony achieved by deco blending with the cuisine takes you to a whole new plane in fine dining.  

The idea of similarly blending two recipes together took shape quite by accident. After all, everyone knows that “necessity is the mother of invention”. Well, necessity came knocking in the form of all supermarkets having no fresh mussels in stock, when I had already paid for all the other ingredients needed to whip up a time-tested Latin American paellal-like dish. But what’s available were some succulently local prawns looking like they had been freshly hauled up in trawling nets.

The necessity of ensuring that the other ingredients in this wonderfully fragrant dish didn’t overpower the pretty-in-pink prawns meant that they too had to be well marinated before adding them to the cooking rice. The necessity of ensuring the added flavours blends harmoniously with the ingredients, well-loved by the people living far south off San Diego, gave me inspiration to borrow the spices added to a contemporary Australian recipe for barbecued prawns. To my greatest delight, the new fusion surpassed the authentic mussel-ladened dish in charismatically tantalizing our senses - greatly enhancing the pleasure of romantically dining by candle light.  

Enhancing the joy of sharing a meal is itself catalytic in necessitating a blend of the well-loved traditional Australian recipe for curry chicken pie with the South-East Asian way of stewing all forms of curry. Borrowing this technique from ASEAN ensures that the aromatic, chilli-hot spices successfully marinates into the dainty plae-pink cubes of cut-up chicken breasts. That way a generous bite of the piping hot pie oozes with the intoxication of fragrant curry: greatly complemented by hubby’s desire to share the whole pie with work mates.

Summer Picnic

Summers on Kangaroo Island: as lazy as slumbering sea lions 

In "The Flying Picnic", presenter Annabel Croft sets out to recreate Mrs Beeton's recipes for a sumptuous picnic for 40 on the lawn of Woburn Abbey in Bedfordshire, UK - roping the help of chefs who prefer to prepare delicious cuisine in the time-honoured traditional fashion. This focus on using the ingredients and cooking methods of old serves up cuisine delightfully ladened with generous servings of rich cream, and even richer applications of equally creamy butter and fine crystal-clear sugar.

This is well and fine in Bedfordshire as maximum summer temperatures normally gets no higher than the slightly chilly low twenties in Celsius. Or when I need an extra layer during an even more chilly summer on Kangaroo Island. But when I can get a leisurely sun tan in a teeny tiny jet black bikini on one of this island's many pristine and secluded beaches, Mrs Beeton's renown recipes doesn't become my idea for the ideal lazy summer picnic: I want to remain aware of my beautiful surroundings. Be it the lapping waters against a jagged cliff front or the amusing antics of wild shrimp safely trapped in temporary mud pools during low tide.  

So I prefer to load up my trusty rattan basket with absolutely fresh produce from Adelaide's Central Market - cheeses that melt instantaneously in your mouth; vine-ripened (and therefore) extra-juicy sweet strawberries, amazingly peachy peaches and lushly green grapes; as well as freshly cured Mac Wests and crackers almost hot from the oven.

But while Maggie Beer's pates are absolutely superb and would be a wonderful addition to my little stash of  picnic goodies, nothing beats the joy of smearing a generous helping of your own home-made variations on those nifty freshly baked crackers from South Australia's capital. Washing it down with copious amounts of lemonade or lemon barley I have freshly brewed becomes icing on my cake. 

You see, unlike the time-consuming process needed to make yummy cheeses and mouth-watering Mac Wests, pates can be done in a jiffy. And you can vary its taste by working in farm-fresh summer produce: add some tangy lemon zest into the yummy basic chicken liver recipe and, with a culinary eye for detail, top it with thin freshly sliced peaches before you cover it with a subtle gelatin. So that it doesn't distract you from the pate or the peachy essence.    

And time has hardly flown as you concoct your home-made brew. This is especially true when I make my sweet and sour contradiction of a lemonade or lime juice. The trick is in pouring the boiling hot water into a jug of all the secret ingredients that makes these drinks delight my senses while quenching my summer thirst.

Now that, my friends, is what makes a summer vacation idyllic!

Autumn BBQ

The historic B&B's garden:  surpassed by bbqs in the wilderness

If you are ever inclined to a self-drive holiday in Victoria, Australia, I'd highly recommend that you station your self in Bright for the week. Besides being a convenient location to many of the state's attractions, there's a historic Pioneer Mine Manager's House that's now run as a B&B. You get your own personal suite, replete with your private lounge and ensuite - all tastefully decorated to reflect the building's existence in the 1800s.

What I absolutely adore about the place is the provision of a picnic basket filled with all the cutlery and crockery required for a bbq lunch - wine glasses included! So the only pleasurable task we need do is drive off into the wilderness and select an outdoor bbq pit stop in some romantic secluded corner with the best views of the lush green landscape. And the aromatic heat from the running bbq pit, coupled with a glass or two of Victoria's best wines, fuels an inner glow as we're gently caressed by autumn's clime - making the bbq an excellent choice for a leisurely outdoor picnic lunch.  

To pack variety into the week's bbq lunches, select a different scenic spot each time and keep the Australian way of not marinating their meat for just a day or two. Then you have free rein to season, as you like, the particular cut of meat you fancy. And be adventurous with your marinate: spice it up with ingredients that you use for a dish that you normally pan-fry, deep-fry, stew, bake or roast!

To marinate the beef steak, I'd gamely borrowed the fusion-styled sauce for stir-frying beef bee hoon. And out of that hot-plate comes a succulent flavour of east meets west dripping from a slightly but beautifully charred serving of red meat. This culinary experience can be repeated with barbecuing lamb cutlets lovingly smeared with potent herbs and spices that go into roasting a rack of lamb.

Now, there are countless recipes for cooking farmed birds. So steal them to add favour before barbecuing the white meat. Pinch the spicy ingredients from the well-loved Jewish fried chicken thighs - a street food as popular to that community as mango salad is to the Thais. Or sneak the Chinese recipe for crispy duck into preparing quail for the grill and you've taken the first steps to creating your signature cooking style.

And the trick to barbecuing shelled prawns so that they char slightly quickly is to marinate them for some time in freshly squeezed lemon juice; as the fruit's acid will start cooking the prawns, turning them slightly pink. To ensure that the juice contrasts nicely with the other seasonings, it's vital that you pick a recipe that already incorporates lime or lemon juice into the dish. Then the perfectly grilled prawns will harmoniously complement the crisp fresh autumn air too, playing delightfully on all your senses.

Worth the Chill

A Santorini sunset: Un-rivaled save the chilly colours of Skye

Picture this: a quaint little cottage with magnificent views of the sweeping MacLeod loch, with sea lions lazily sunning themselves on an ever small isle where the mystical waters gently lap at its wonderfully fine, barely beige beach. A stone's throw away is a splendidly foilaged woods, as gentle as all the landscape the north of England is reputably renown: no poisonous spiders, no venomous snakes, no murderously fanged wolves. Nothing living within is ever a threat to a leisurely meandering through this whisper-quiet forest.

But surprise, surprise: we have a roaring wood fire going during summer days this further north in the Isle of Skye. And a hearty swig of malt whisky is definitely the way to go after a good trek round the loch and into the woods. My eye balls may bulge and the throat seems christianed by holy fire, but I can now understand fully the love affair Scots have with tipping their glasses neat all year round.

Still it's a marvellous way to get yourself lost in the rainbow-coloured hues of the setting sky. And the memories they bring more than amply make up for the generous layers we swaft ourselves. We'll absolutely volunteer for Rudolph's job if Santa ever decides to bring Christmas cheer to Skye during a chilly June.

Getting a chill also takes a number of middle-eastern vegetable dishes from the ordinary to the extraordinary! Serve them freshly prepared and you won't ever want to take a second mouthful. Leave them refridgerated, over night if you can, and the lowered temperatures potently transforms your first bite into a craving for a second serving.

That the chill is THE crucial ingredient in dishing out a fantastic fattit al hommus draws strength from the liberty this steps gives me in simplifing the recipe effortlessly. Any can of chickpeas will do. Swap the mint for the coriander. Don't toast the pine nuts at all. And generously heap it onto olive ciabatta, rather than trusty pita bread.  

This truth applies to the way some Morrocan vegetables dishes are prepared too. A simple serving of boiled and heavily spiced carrots is made mouth-watering only after camping over night in the fridge. As would a vegetable salad need do to live up to the enticing expectations elicited by the profusion of  colours - fiery red, spritely yellow, lush green and midnight black.

Fat: As Nature Intended

Fat: as natural as Cape le Grand National Park's rock formations

In an episode of “Chef at Home”, Michael Smith sautés his pork chops in a covered saucepan and over a smaller fire to keep the meat from drying out and turning tough. And we’ve to do so as pigs are now farmed to produce leaner muscle. But that takes the fun out of the frying process for me: I love to watch and hear the meat sizzle.

So I’ve replaced my chops with pork belly in all its glory – wobbling in fat and covered in pinkish skin. Boy, can I sear it in high heat! And the crispy crunchy lip smacking crackling that gets laid on blissfully contrasts with the lip-smacking melt-in-your-mouth juices-dripping cut. And it’s perfection whether thickly glazed with warm sweet orange marmalade or flawlessly smothered with savoury crushed tomatoes liberally spliced with garden-fresh basil.   

Fat is the greatest natural tenderizer and packs such lush inherent flavour into a cut of meat; the very reason why well-marbled rib eye is highly priced. And when it’s superbly cooked in the French tradition, its veins of fat lavishly soak up the red wine sauce. Biting into it compares well with a pampering of the senses while wine tasting in Burgundy.    

A Source of Inspiration

Drawn from a horse whisperer's inspiration

I can identify with one episode of Kylie Kwong’s “Cooking with Heart & Soul”. She’d gotten her mum to demonstrate how she cooks Hokkien noodles after showing her new version, obviously drawing inspiration from the elderly lady’s recipe and personalizing it with her “Kyliessential” signature style. 

I’ve done that with my mum’s Chinese-style deep fried chicken, even though it’s delicious as it is. For one, to make the dish healthier, I’ve swapped the wok for the oven. For another, I’ve aromatized the dish with generous helpings of zesty young ginger and molten amber honey. Succulent sweet and tangy chook is the result. Whether it’s succulent or crispy depends on which of two ways I bake the bird.

Similarly, I’ve transformed the German time-honoured black forest cake into a hip and trendy chocolate cherry one by twigging the texture of the chocolaty sponge and being philanthropic with the dark chocolate shavings and juicy pitted cherries. But I’ve kept the spirit of making it true: it still takes as lovingly long.

And while I still cook the Pacific oysters as an American stew, guests wouldn’t think it as one when I serve it. Each cream-bursting plump oyster comes sitting on its shell; cooling it down quickly to make the dining experience not only more pleasurable in the hot tropics, but more refined as well.

A Fruity Affair

En-route to Bandung: Fresh fruit for fritters & cake

I remember a dinner conversation in Auckland in the 1980s, centering on Japan making fish-flavoured ice cream. While there was some debate on whether the Japanese flavour would be as enjoyable as rum and raisin ice cream, I’d sensed there was a general respect that the land of the rising sun was also living off their land. After all, New Zealanders were already proudly filling their really dark chocolate with a surprising dash of kiwi fruit liqueur.

But the unique Kiwi creation I took a particularly fancy with back then was their fruit-laden sandwiches. And it was a culinary twist that I fondly brought back with me. For who wouldn’t be taken with the joyful sensation of succulent strawberry zest bursting out with crisp fresh greens and crunchy streaky bacon? Especially when it’s washed down with ice cold home-made lemon barley?

That orchestrated concerto is in the same culinary league as generously lacing delicate shavings of granny smith apples in a slaw, tastefully balanced with a few handfuls of freshly picked koo chyes – a refreshing accompaniment to a crispy skin sautéed pork belly liberally drenched with a sweet yet tart apple sauce.        

But a cut above this is the divine berry compote served with a feather-light chilled vanilla panna cotta that’s perfect for the hot tropics. A dainty mouthful brings back memories of the punnets of farm-fresh strawberries I’d bought stopping along the back roads on the North Island in kiwi country and the sun-ripened blackberries I’d picked from patches growing wild at the fringe of Tasmania’s bushlands. 

Labour of Love

What honey eaters love labouring over lazy Saturday afternoons  

Planning a self-drive holiday takes an enormous length of time. We spend hours trawling the internet for that perfect self-contained cottage. And finding it only means starting all over again, as we often plan to stay in 2 or 3 scenic locations en route. But it’s time well spent as we can then tailor our trip round solely our interests; like art gallery hopping through the picturesque Isle of Skye, or choosing the windy mountainous St Bernard Pass, over the autoban, to cross the Swiss-Italian border. The fruits of this labour of love are indeed sweet.

Such a philosophy guides the time I now spend in my kitchen. Weekends are only when I indulge in therapeutically ‘slaving’ for hours over the stove. But I do as the love I put in yields a bountiful harvest of textures, flavours and praise. And who wouldn’t purr in contentment after sampling hearty morsels of shelled shrimp & juicy crabmeat creamed in melted cheese and cocooned in pancakes crepe-thin?

Or couldn’t help but make quick inroads into a micro-wave heated slice of pie packed with tender savoury bit-size portions of air-flown strip lion sealed within a feathery light puff pastry? And given me a call afterwards to offer enthusiastic thanks that I’d gotten hubby to take more than his own portion to work?

Still such exquisite recipes simply aren’t for the busy weekday. So thank God we’ve added Saturday to His day of rest: it’s two fantastic days of fussing in the kitchen. 

A Dash of Magic

Arthur's pet monkey: after some cognac-soaked berries 

During a team building workshop at SunRice Culinary School, my hubby stumbled upon a more luscious way to make laska: he’d cheekily poured frothing beer, instead of water, into the brewing pot. Not surprisingly, laughter from the other teams abruptly stopped when they tasted his concoction. The gravy was richer in flavour and colour. And they didn’t need to place the steaming hot noodles into a gravy-laden porcelain spoon either: the splendidly thicker soup clung seductively to the mee streaming down their ivory chopsticks. A snifter has worked its magic in the kitchen yet again.

Just as red wine can cast its spell over a pasta dish. With just a dash, depth to the tomato sauce is added, which in turn intensifies the savoury bacon and marinated olives. The sauce isn’t liquefied either, so every succulent ribbon of spinach fettucini is deliciously coated. The cheese is only there to lift the enchantment from witchery to fairy kingdom. 

Now, you don’t need a cauldron to work sherry’s mystical charm too. The faithful frying pan will do in caramelizing the onions and sautéing the blood-dripping sirloin. As the dry, tart sherry soaks up the juices still coyly clinging to the pan and potently concentrates its herb-infused flavours, culinary wizardry has come into a new age.   

And even Merlin will approve a liberal splash of cognac beyond your mains. Imagine a generous icy cold serving of lush sugary sweet cherries and sun-kissed ripened strawberries oozing with my father’s priced XO cognac. Add a soft, buttery scoop of Ben & Jerry’s ice-cream, and Arthur would have drawn Excalibur from its stone “shackles” a lot sooner.  

Enhancing Flavour

Just like radiant sunshine after an intensified storm

Piping hot pizza with a waffle-thin crispy crust tastes best in the true Italian fashion - sparingly topped with spicy cured salami and whole brine-pickled olives. But when I get served a thick crust, I swear by the American way of a mountain heap of toppings to intensify the savoury coating, balancing the profuse sensation the pastry gives.

This holds true when I stir fry hearty chunks of lamb with the spicy African berbiri. Lamb has such an intense flavour, I’ll do the Ethiopian spiced marinate great injustice by being miserly in proportioning it to the weight of the meat. Unclenching the fist briskly sears a pleasurable coating of spices onto the deeply red meat – cooking it quick enough to keep it tender. 

And when meaty pieces of kampong chicken are barbequed, I’m not a shrew with my Jewish marinate either, especially when the recipe calls for the poultry to be bathed overnight in its seasoning. The slightly charred spices generously covering the crispy skinned meat is such a feast for the eyes it titillates the other senses: Israel has held fast to its promise.       

Join the Crush

An aesthetic crush the New Zealand artist won't live without 

Sushi is marvelous for a quick hassle-free meal out. And I absolutely adore these Japanese “dim sums” when they’re smothered with countless tiny pearly orangey fish roe. Feeling a heap of these spongy “jellies” individually bursting and spilling subtle minute yet tangy juices into the mouth is as thrilling a sensation as an awe-inspiring time in the land of the rising sun. It’s so satisfying I’d polish off any roe left spilt on the plate.  

But that can’t be said about crunching into a mouthful of whole green peppercorns. The juices released as the fruit crack is so pungently intense that my taste buds go into shock. And there after, they’re too numb to savour the prawns the peppercorns garnish.

Fortunately, the recipe has been redeemed since I started sautéing the prawns with freshly crushed peppercorns. Having their juices evenly splicing the shell fish diffuses their flavour with subtlety while marvelously enhancing the composite taste of the dish.    

Squashing an ingredient to smithereens to impart a more subtle flavour works remarkably well when I make my mother-in-law’s cheese biscuits. The garlic is reduced to such fine granules that I can sprinkle just a few onto each cookie – just enough to add a delicate understated aroma, finely enhancing the intoxicating cheesy flavour.

Pasta in My Fashion

Pasta: as intricate on the palate as aboriginal artwork

Living in London had its perks, one of which was the weather: it was most conducive to decking out stylishly in warm layers, replete with fashionable hat, soft genuine leather gloves and ankle-high stiletto boots. The only thing I miss is wearing a mini skirt anytime anywhere.

Now back living in the tropics, I’m happiest in fitting tops with spaghetti strips. Comfort aside, I delight in the caressing contact of sun on skin or the gentle lashing of a cool breeze. Even the pitter patter of a lukewarm shower is welcome. So my shoulders are covered only when I’m off teaching English, in keeping with the image of the profession.

In contrast, I’m sworn off naked pasta, even though some may argue that you dress spaghetti aglio e olio with garlic and olive oil. But that’s like gritty sun screen on your birthday suit while sun-tanning not on a nudist beach, even when the smearing is wanton and extra virginal.

My pasta must be clothed regardless of the season. When it’s a hot dry spell, the truffle fettucini is saucily clad in milky smooth thickened cream, jazzed up with a lemony zing and thoroughly powered with finely grated cheese. When the monsoon hits, the macaroni gets fully swathed in a cheesy sauce so meltingly divine, the piping hot dish just has to be served straight from the oven.

Not a Delicious "Torture"

Brush turkey says "No!" to any form of pain 

The curries Singapore serves are renowned for their spice and heat. Indeed, the spicier and hotter, the better. Oh, my love affair with them is as intense as any true-blooded resident. But though Singaporean born and bred, sitting down to a sumptuous curry meal entails keeping a tissue box at hand: my nose runs a marathon with every gravy-dripping spoonful. Still, it is a “torture” too delicious to desist.

But therein lies the dilemma for families with young children: when mum and dad savour their home-cooked curry, an alternative dish, like sweet and sour pork chops, has to be cooked for the kids. That doubles up kitchen time quite quickly, something time-conscious mums can really do without. And splitting the family along the line of who can’t eat what puts asunder the bonds that come with a communal meal.

Is there a curry that will bring a smile to everyone’s faces? - One that wouldn’t drive junior to quench his burning throat with copious amounts of ice cold water? One that beautifully makes up in flavour what it couldn’t in heat; without compromising the complex layering of spices?

Yes, it’s a biryani that sits in the oven just long enough to tenderize the morsels of air-flown lamb. A biryani served on yellow rice perfumed with stir-fried slivers of onion, garlic and ginger. A biryani that still needs a raita to lovingly refresh the discerning palate: making the communal bonding a truly Indian-inspired experience.

Curry of Oz

Daintree National Park, Queensland: an inspiration for fusion

Far north Queensland is a tropical paradise with hints of the continent on which it sits:   lang lang-like sugarcane plantations line the endless roads. Magically gigantic tree palms amply shade your rainforest walks, where adorable whiptail wallabies disappear into the forest fridges. Breathlessly beautiful sun-kissed beaches skirt oceans streaming with stingers.

Is it any wonder than that its restaurants have mastered the art of uniquely blending Asian spices with Australian home grown produce? And that Bistro3 in Port Douglas serves the crème de la crème in this art form?

Deserving special mention is the trendy bistro’s astounding take on the red curry. Six generous halves of tender succulent Morton Bay bugs swam in a mildly sweet and spicy, smoothly refined orangey Thai-influenced gravy, afloat with tantalizingly fresh and crisp baby bamboo shoots and snow peas. The symphony of flavours rivals Strauss’s waltzes.

Giving Bistro3 a run for its money is an Aussie fish monger’s creative wife. The fresh produce she uses for her lip-smacking green curry is just as unusual:  hearty tender chunks of white fish hauled in by her hubby and blistered cherry tomatoes overflowing with hot juicy pulp. My only quarrel with her recipe is her decision on a mass-produced green curry paste as base. Swapping that with a special selection of needed wet market fresh herbs and spices, personally processed just when I need it, aromatizes this curry with a full bodied twang from the land of smiles.

Rice with the Wind

The rice salad's promise lures sunbirdy from his nectar  

The humble Chinese fried rice is a God-sent when I lived an easy distance from the Botanic Gardens. An easy and tree-lined three-minute walk away is a fabulous takeaway that woks up the yummiest char siew, sweet green peas and crunchy green chilli loaded balanced meal in a tiffin carrier.

But much as I constantly crave it for lunch, I’ve never cooked one up myself. It’s just too much of a hassle to have to boil the plain Jasmine rice before stir-frying that with all the time-honoured ingredients. Lunch should be a breeze to prepare.

“What about using left-over rice?” you may ask. Yes, I do serve plain rice at dinner at times. But I’ve developed a technique of cooking that just enough for two. Then I never have to scrub out the cooked grains still stuck to the bottom of the pot. The unfortunate result is a total absence of rice to leave over.

So I appease my appetite with equally satisfying substitutes that can be prepared at near hurricane speed - like with the astonishingly flavoursome Australian warm rice salad or the marvelously exotic Latin American mussels in rice ladled with rich coconut milk. And are they really appetizing? Well, my mum polished off a very hearty portion of the fragrant rice from down under even though she normally eats like a sparrow and hubby was more than willing to do the South American delicacy two nights in a row.

And you can race with the wind whipping up these dishes: they only take as long as it’s needed to cook the long grains once. Basically, you toss up all the market-fresh ingredients in the pot as they simmer over the fire. Before you know it, you’ll be wolfing them down deliciously piping hot.

Take It Out

Butterfly farm with one visitor too many, marring the experience

What would I put on a 2.5m ledge running the width of my dining room wall? Well, a vase of freshly cut majestic heliconias and showy birds of paradise would be the piece de resistance, as paintings in purple and orange hues hang on an adjacent wall. But that still left 2.48m of ledge insipidly bone bare – not a good look for a white wall.

Now my hubby has inherited a lot of memorabilia from his mother’s estate last year. “Perfect for the ledge,” I thought. And they did take up its length: it wasn’t bare anymore, but my lush tropical floral arrangement didn’t continue to keep centre stage either.

Right, Interior Design principle 101: less is more, stupid!

So I went back to displaying Necia’s beloved treasures in her towering glassed bookcase in the cosy study upstairs – where they rightfully lovingly belong. And replaced them with four definitive pieces of home décor, working on Interior Design principle 102: balance and harmony.  

As such, hubby was again happier, as he was when I decided from the start to leave the chicken liver out of the lasagna al forno; thereby removing the liver’s bitterness from overshadowing the richness of the beefy mince. Now we can savour to contentment the soulful intensity of the meat perfectly sandwiched between mashed plum tomatoes and velvety creamy béchamel sauce, and in total oblivion of the layers of pasta.

He was beaming like a Cheshire cat too, when we took the generous heap of salted butter out of the surprisingly Italian garlic prawns. Immediately, the olive-oil infused gravy took on a lighter and healthier texture. And the dish remained as aromatically balanced and harmoniously tasty; not surprising, as we continued to season it just before plating it. Long after the prawns are gone, a really long-time friend always insists on soaking up every last drop on her plate with fresh warm chunks of olive ciabatta.

An Ingredient Like Titsh

Titsh: more than a feisty spice of life 

The recently landscaped front yard lives up to its drawing plans: water gently drizzles down the granite fence into a quaint pond abloom with water lilies. A fiery red dragon fly comes to sit on the water reeds to contemplate the black larva rock frog’s enjoyment of the serenity, as it sits perched on the door steps of a mystic pagoda, under the shade of a fragrant frangipani tree.

Hubby and I have spent a good number of evenings lounging soaking in the atmosphere, further calmed by vanilla and ylang-ylang scented candles. Ahhh…. such is paradise.

Or so we thought… till Titsh appeared on the scene! The wry kitty stray has made our front yard his home, rubbing his scent on everything and anything we place there: even affectionately rubbing against our legs and running its ticklish tongue along our toes.  

Now we lounge stroking his silky soft fur and tickling him behind his gingery ears. And we wouldn’t have it in any other way: Titsh has spiced our evening serenity with a hearty dose of old-fashioned spontaneous fun.

There are ingredients like Titsh everywhere. Adding it to a tasty recipe you had thought was already into its own, adds added depth. So once you’ve done it, you’ll never leave it out again.

Take the trusty cole slaw, the ever ready companion to a barbeque; providing a refreshing foil to the smoky sensation of well-charred steak. “Yum,” you say? Well, wait till you throw crispy fresh mint leaves from your herb garden into the slaw – it takes on a taste and texture like Spearmint gum: an even more perfect foil to what you dish out of your coal-hot barbeque.

Or what about those ocean fresh mussels swimming in a generous sea of tangy and slightly sweet tomato passata? Yes, it packs a mean taste punch. But the reverberating echo only comes when you throw in the coriander, herb smoking up the “red sea”. You don’t need a glass of white wine with this. But do, if you want to spoil your sweetheart rotten. 

Trading a Bit of the World in for the East

A great "marriage" between fiery spider and the green  

I remember our wedding dinner at The Flutes at the Fort as magical: the Australian cuisine infused with South-East Asian ingredients spoke so much of our own marriage. And I was especially impressed by what it offered for dessert – crème brulee with chempadek ice-cream. The subtle flavour of this potent crunchy Malaysian fruit complimented an already exceptionally yummy trusted brulee without over-powering it – transforming its velvety smooth texture into a divine sensation: I swear I heard angelic singing above the wedding bells.

So transcending was the experience, I was truly inspired to let that magical “marriage” morph into the holy grail in my kitchen.

Instantaneously, Shitake became the mushroom of choice over brown ones and button varieties. And even the lovely flavour and texture of Porcinis can’t hold a candle to the woody pungency and slippery satin flesh of fresh Shitakes. With the Asian mushroom, the meaty goodness of an Australian steak rises beyond its occasion and a refreshingly light Greek vegetarian mossaka gets even refreshingly lighter.

And who says chickpeas are absolutely necessary in a Moroccan fish stew? They do little more than add a contrasting crunch to the stewed fish. Use roasted chestnuts instead. Their concentrated creamy nuttiness layers an added tantalizing dimension onto your taste buds. And even the little ones from China pack a double-whammy crunch.

Little wonder then that this simple hat trick is just that – simple. Pick a recipe from the big wide world, trade one ingredient in for an Asian variety and a dish that’s time-tested as wonderfully nice becomes a match made in the heavens. 

A 10-Minute Roast for Two

So snappy a roast even sheep wouldn't kick a fuss

I used to always get a headache cooking a roast for two: what do you do with all the left over rack of lamb? I’d be sticking the meat into sandwiches, salads and what have you for days after till roast lamb is coming out of both our noses and eyeballs.

Then there’s always the question why I would still need to stick the whole rack in the oven for 40 minutes to 1.5 hours (depending on the recipe), when I really just needed enough succulent flesh for a romantic candle-lit dinner with hubby.

Couple these to a romantic candle-lit dinner in a tropical setting and the silliness of it all becomes down-right ridiculous – now, why would we need the toasty warmth (accumulated in a long oven stay) in a good roast?

Fortunately, I didn’t throw the roast recipes out with the bath water: for instance, I simply started using individual lamb cutlets instead! Each just needs 10 minutes in the oven to become sizzling and succulent - perfect for a warmer climate.

And each is extraordinarily tasty: every mouthful of tender fresh meat has been well-coated in the recipe’s aromatic herbs and spices before their brief sojourn in the oven. As such the recipe’s refreshingly cool sauce we pour over becomes transformed into an appetite-enhancing fringe benefit. 

An Omelete Worthy of its Salt

Eastern Omeletes: Like Honey Too Tempting to Resist

The western omelete holds so much promise – it’s light and fluffy, wonderfully filled with juicy bits of mushrooms, bacon, capsicum, onions and cheese. But consumed on its own the promise remains unfulfilled: you have to salt and pepper it.

Yet that doesn’t completely satisfy. There’s just something unpleasant about chewing on granules of salt in each mouthful of omelete: you get mini blasts of concentrated saltiness overpowering and overshadowing the promise.

Funnily, the secret to fulfilling the western omelete’s promise lies in the traditional way the Far East dishes up their version of this simple dish – you add the salt while you are making the omelet. This gives the salt granules time to dissolve and evenly permeate the whole dish.

Wonderfully, every morsel becomes evenly tasty but not from saltiness: the dissolved salt becomes disguised in intensifying the flavours of the woody mushrooms, savoury bacon, freshly crisp capsicum, sweet onions and creamy cheese!

The Journey Begins

Sunsets on Bruny Island: Just like our home cooking  

My dad worked in the travel industry till retirement and as a little girl, I’d watch his planes take off from the former Paya Lebar airport’s viewing gallery with wide-eyed wonder, mesmerized by what out-there holds: this was one “silver-finned fish” drawn by the enchanting lure of a global adventure that entices all the senses.

So it is indeed my good fortune that my hubby shares my passion enough to travel during his vacations after winging afar extensively for business, as it is his palate is as internationally appreciative as mine. And this is translated into a mutual expectation of similar experiences at home - at our dining table and occasionally what gets packed into the lunch box to take to work.

This, in turn, has fuelled my love for lugging home cook books from across the globe, cooking, experimenting and personalizing. Flames to this fire have been fanned by complements I’ve received from dinner guests, friends who come for lunch and hubby’s colleagues over the years too, some with an interest in my recipes and cooking tips or to watch me apply them over the stove or in the oven. In fact, a few are keen enough to sign up for whatever cookery classes I wish to start.

So if you have a zeal for great food from across the different continents, you can do more than zip around the world for its gastronomical secrets and delights: Revealing them to you is my ultimate pleasure. You are warmly invited to relish the thoughts I pen here and embark on a culinary journey of shared recipes, exchanged by email.