Aspartame's the Name of the Game

Opportunities: as abundant as the snow capped Swiss Alps

I had my first swirl of diet coke over eight years ago and have come to like its taste better than regular sugared coca cola. It is strange how one's taste buds get acclimatized to the change in flavour. But for years it has been diet coke, diet pepsi, soft drinks with no added sugar, water and tea, with aspartame.

Well, this tiny world of permissible drinks grew a lot larger after I had a brain wave: if I add the artificial sweetener to hot tea, with a slice of lemon, and add ice to it, I'd get sugar free iced lemon tea! And that means I can do the same for my homemade lemonade, limeade, lemon barley, etc. And all I need do is follow one simple rule: one packet or tablet of artificial sugar is equivalent to one teaspoonful of regular cane sugar.

Once I've established the suitability of aspartame in my list of home brews, I realised that I can sprinkle powdered artificial sugars over my fresh crunchy vine-sweetened raspberries and blue berries, and so no longer feel sinful when I add that scoop of double cream. Similarly, I've swapped aspartame for the icing sugar used to balance a spicy yoghurt sauce for my rack of herb-infused roast lamb.

And if you think about it, the opportunities for substituting this humble artificial sweetener for real sugar is endless. The only other rule you have to remember is this: tablets of this miracle chemical are fine when you're whipping up a piping hot liquid-like or sauce-infused dish. Otherwise, it pays to keep both forms of aspartame at hand, as the powdered form dissolves as easily into a dish as icing sugar does. Just remember to stir the powder thoroughly into the dish in the pan.  

The only noticable difference is when you're substituting brown sugar. Then you might need to add a little cinnamon, along with the chemical sweetener, into the mains or desserts.

Bye Bye Couscous

Even wild ducks'll follow a trail of cauliflower crumbs

Going past 35 was an unforgettable occasion for me: that’s when I discovered that I didn’t have all of my father’s genes. Like him, I used to think that you can soak me in a tub of oil and I wouldn’t get even a gram fatter. But within 8 months, I’d gained 10 kilos and in all the wrong places.

That was when I put myself on a modified Atkins’ diet: I could eat all the proteins, fats, fruits and veggies I want. But complex carbohydrates of all forms were tabooed from gracing my dining table - which meant that I didn’t need to opt using only egg whites to prepare a frittata, as I wouldn’t chow down on the crust enveloping a quiche Lorraine.

That I’m again attempting to get back on this diet plan is evident as it is a heaven sent when I stumbled upon a modern French recipe that substituted the starchy coucous with finely pureed cauliflower florets. And the swap was a major success as those who weren’t told never for a moment even doubted that they were enjoying genuine coucous, as the ground down cauliflower florets perfectly mimicked the taste and texture of the carbohydrate known the world over.

In many aspects, this substitution reminds me of all the mock meat Chinese vegetarians have perfected with their tofu substitute. And just as the consumption of tofu offers added health benefits, a meal served with cauliflower “couscous” has the added advantage of building up the body’s store of anti-cancer nutrients.

But the greatest joy in stumbling upon this vegetable’s winsome disguise is the realization that I no longer needed to keep stocked up on actual couscous for years on end. After all, I present a meal including couscous every seven or eight months down the road. The pureed cauliflower has become the staple swap, and I can’t wait to try this out with other recipes that have stuck to using starchy couscous.

A Wok-less Pursuit

Varying your spices is more important

Picture this: a cook was gleefully chopping off the head and feet of a raw chicken, before marinating it with spices and then placing it in a pot. When she was asked why she had discarded those parts of her bird, she said that that was how her mom had always cooked the dish. When the old lady was asked for the reason, she replied that it was because her pot was too small to fit the whole chook!

Given the above example, it is, therefore, very frustrating to hear a London-based Chinese chef insist that one needs a wok to dish up dishes with its origins from China, or that a rice cooker is equally crucial. Or that one definitely needs a tagine to make authentic Middle Eastern dishes. What they should have said is that they have grown used to using these cooking tools and wouldn’t think of doing their dishes any other way.  

For you see, I’ve always used only western pots and pans while I lived in the United Kingdom. A deep pot works as well for steaming rice in ramekins, deep frying wanton dumplings, blanching gai lans, stewing a curry and stir frying Singapore noodles. And when the depth of the cooking utensil isn’t essential, I can even stir fry black peppered beef in an ordinary frying pan.

So what you really need are pots of different sizes: with the number invited for dinner determining the size of this cooking implement; and one trusty frying pan, with an anti-splatter to keep the heated butter from flying in all directions, and dirtying the cook top or ruining your favourite blouse.

With just these you’ll be ready to cook up a storm for almost all cuisines under the sun!

Horne Your Own Specialties

Santorini's specialty: White against a blue backdrop

While many restaurants can lay claim to fame where their pancakes are concerned, doing so with the way they make their crepes is another ball game altogether. This is a finesse few eateries here have mastered to perfection. But to my delight, I can beg to defer with the way DB Bistro serves up this dessert.

Its berry compote is as divine on the palate as if they’ve been whipped up immediately after picking the fruit from the bush. And they actually serve that along with genuine fresh cream. But what makes Daniel Boulud’s serving a piece de resistance is his heavenly waive thin crepes: you are almost inspired to wax lyrical about how its slightly crisp periphery is no culinary imperfection; rather the gastronomical aria will have lost its soul without it.

And the greatest complement I can give this chef is by refraining from any attempt to replicate his dessert in my own kitchen. Then I give hubby the wonderful opportunity to take me to this bistro for the sole delight of partaking Boulud’s sweet magic, accompanied by a decided pink toast of kir royale.

In turn, that liberates me to perfect my own intoxicating specialties when we invite guests over for dinner. So if the night is hot and humid, I’ll offer a refreshing melody of strawberries and blue berries, generously wintered over with icing sugar and to be dipped into decidedly wicked double cream. If dusk brings in a hearty breeze, guests can indulge in a chilled New York cheese cake that’s smothered with whipped cream and plated drizzled with deliciously light mixed berry compote. But when Thor decides to bucket down, there’s always a piping hot apple strudel that’s liberally spiked with dry sherry and served with enough heavy cream to light a warm glow within each of us.

And unlike crepes, these desserts of mine require preparation before the guests arrive; freeing me to do what a hostess should spend most of the time doing: engaged in animated conversation with our guests.

Then my decision guarantees DB Bistro we’ll be there whenever we crave its crepes. 

Save the Dish

As worth saving as the Parthenon

Inverness has a hip and trendy restaurant, with quite a good standing among the locals and attracts as many vacationers as does the famed Loch Ness monster. And so it obviously became the first place hubby and I chose to dine during our week’s vacation in the ruggedly beautiful Scottish Highlands.

But my bubble of eager anticipation was quickly punctured when my mains arrived. Well, the John Dory was grilled to perfection and aesthetically garnished with finely chopped fresh chilli. However, as I’ve always said, “The test is in the taste”. And in that crucial area this establishment’s attempt at fusion cuisine has much to be desired: one just doesn’t make flakes of chilli the main ingredient, no matter whether it’s fresh from the greenhouse and organically nurtured to fruition on the vine.

Now, I did inform the wait staff about the severe lack in flavour. But I turned down their suggestion that I pick another mains which their chef would prepare in lieu. Rather, I asked that some of the chilli flakes be removed and the fillet salt-and-peppered as well and be re-served with a fresh slice of lemon. That saved the dish!

While I had to add flavours to the fish, I had to save last night’s Greek chef’s Lebanese take on lamb cutlets by moderating the amount of spices he had used. You see, he had creatively turned a raita into a spicy yogurt sauce. But his decision on being liberal in his use of a variety of intense middle-eastern spices has turned the yoghurt awfully bitter; as if finely ground charcoal bits had been added.

But toning down the use of spice couldn’t take all the bitterness out of his sauce. To do that without cutting down the spiciness even further, it was erased by generously mixing in icing sugar. And the resultant spicy sweetness offered a wonderful contrast when lovingly poured over the roasted pink lamb. 

Relish the Swap

Checking out the fine lines dividing chutneys, jams and relish.

India is renowned for its numerous surprises that await visitors to this South Asian country. And many who have been there enthusiastically encourage others to journey through its immense diversity of culture, architecture and the natural to savour its layers and complexity.

Little wonder then that the same can be said of its variety of traditional chutneys. That they are delicious is an understatement upheld by the fact that they were prized Indian exports to Europe and the whole world since the 17^th century. And eventually, the Anglo-Saxon communities came up with their own versions, especially the fruity variations.

And they have taken to include it as a vital ingredient for recipes, making the red meat dishes even more luxuriously delicious: the crumbed lamb noisettes seal the coating of sweetly tart mango and apple fruit chutney onto the loins and into the bones. And the curried meatballs enjoy the balance between the hot and spicy with the appealingly saccharine.

But before you go load up with an enviable range of fruity chutneys to subtly vary the taste of both these dishes, you would be delighted to know that chutneys are actually a category of relish, in which belongs the jams as well. So freely stir into the freshly minced beef and sausage mixture the apricot chutney, and melt into its spicy gravy wickedly purplish black current jam; which was added only after the lid refused to pop off the newly bottled fig and orange relish.

Then the difference in both sugary components provides a successful depth of sweetish contrast between the finely ground up meat mixture and the heartily spicy gravy – and it’ll transcend as a dish above others that you already truly relish!

The Economics of Cooking

Won't MAN power be more economical?

Although shopping’s a Singapore pastime, I’m not an avid fan of this sport. I shop only when there’s a purpose to do so. Then I’ll keep at it till I find the ONE outfit. And that may well mean ten trips down to the shops in Orchard Road and the heartlands before I find THE dress I am happy to carry off for that special occasion. And if the guest list for the second function differs from the first, I’m simply delighted that I can put it on again.

And that is how I view what’s still available in the pantry or fridge. If I have another 8 eggs, and there’s half a fresh crunchy capsicum left, my thoughts are about making a mouth-watering vegetarian frittata for lunch. But if I’m lost for ideas, I’ll turn to cook books that list recipes following a lengthy index by minor ingredients, like say bananas. Then I’ll draw inspiration to blend eastern and Mediterranean recipes before deep frying the rapidly ripening fruit.

Still, more often than not I’ll randomly browse the diverse recipe books in my possession till I find a new concoction I’ll like to try, but not to the tee. So if the untried pasta dish calls for a melody of mushrooms, and handfuls of fresh basil and rosemary, I’ll happily swap what’s needed with what’s left in the fridge: julienned shitake and bacon for the varied mushrooms. And koo chye and coriander leaves for the herbs; giving rise to a newly created symphony of flavours smoothly blended with the mixed powder of fragrant, jazzy spices I’d retained unchanged. 

Rules to Bending the Rules

Even Veronian rules couldn't bar Romeo from Juliet  

During all my years of compulsory education (eons ago), my primary motto was to frequently play hooky, the secondary to find occasions where I could bend the school rules. Back then I never believed in being a blind follower of institutional codes of conduct. The ones, and they were few and far between, I’d toe the line had better make better sense than common sense.  

And it’s the rule I apply when I study a recipe. So I fail to understand why the Jewish heritage of preparing piroshki needs me to first separately chop up the onions, salmon and mushrooms in butter. Nor for what comes after: separately pan fry these ingredients. Or even the next two steps that follow that: deglaze the pan with cream and mix what’s been deglazed from the pan up with the cooked ingredients. And have teaspoon-sized portions of this mixture wrapped in dough for baking in the oven.

Wouldn’t a smooth paste resulting from pureeing the raw onions, mushrooms and salmon together lend an evenly intertwined sensation to the palate? And wouldn’t you be able to maintain this smooth even texture by folding into the raw mince the double cream and melted butter? And wouldn’t enveloping fresh wanton skins over spoonfuls of the final mixture ensure the mince gets thoroughly cooked at the same quick time it would take the skins to crisp up when deep fried?   

And the only additional rule I’d have applied to breaking away from Jewish traditions is the realization that the Chinese heritage of preparing dim sums successfully ensures that I’d only have to cook all the fresh ingredients once, whether deep fried, pan fried or steamed.

A Little Slice of Heaven

Hear the church bells ring on your birthday

If something decidedly sweet strikes your fancy in the morning, your greenest pasture will be an al fresco breakfast at Graze, surrounded by lush greenery and the tranquility of watching the koi ambling in the pond as you toss them their share of freshly baked bread.

Now that is candy coating to what they can actually serve to placate your demands for that sugar rush to your brains: If you’re into something that’s still light and refreshing, order their basket of multi-coloured temperate fruit that’s smothered with freshly made Greek yoghurt, laced through with a divine serving of honey-toned maple syrup. But if you’re in a decadent mood, toss a coin to decide whether you’ll go for the banana-and-bacon-packed pancakes or the strawberries-and-chocolate-loaded waffles. Yes, both will rise to the occasion of quenching your thirst for heaven’s nectar.

But if that morning happens to fall on your birthday, then the sweetest slice of heaven is a decadent breakfast in bed. Imagine waking up to the aromatic scents of banana walnut bread French toasting in butter on the frying pan. And just minutes later having these egg laden slices of oven toasted spread served up powdered over with a liberal splash of icing sugar and drenched in a luscious serving of maple syrup – accompanied by piping hot crispy banana fritters done in the Spanish style and nestled by a huge sinful scoop of the finest vanilla ice cream.

Then the freshly squeezed orange juice will taste ever more the sweeter. And the steaming hot white pomegranate tea that follows has surely been specially delivered by your guardian angels.

But the sweetest of heavenly sweets is an extra extravagant good morning kiss from hubby when he appears with the specially laden breakfast tray. 

Coat Not with Eggs

Flour glue: So good Mr. Spider will spin his web with it

There is a Balinese-like terrace along Lorong Chuan with a particularly splendid air-well: sunbirds have for years been building their twiggy-like nests amidst the leafy green canopy of bamboo. And you can stand by the windows on the third level to watch, at eye-level, mummy birds feed their gluttonous chicks.

You can even watch the newly grown adult female and male bring in the twigs to thatch together their love nest. And you’ll soon realize that it’s their weavings skills that hold all the twigs together: No glue required what so ever!

That cannot be said when I’m making meatballs. The recipes where I’ve succeeded in pan frying the meatballs without them disintegrating during the cooking process all include adding a fresh egg into the mince - just as breadcrumbs won’t fall off the lamb cutlets when the chunks of meat on t-bone are first coated with the beaten contribution freshly laid by some well-feathered hen.

So imagine my surprise when the definitive Italian cookbook, “The Silver Spoon”, recommends that I hold half a kilogram of minced beef together with four tablespoonfuls of béchamel sauce! Well, surprise, surprise: it worked! And it did even after adding 250g of freshly grated parmesan into the mix of meat. And those few spoonfuls of beige creamy gravy and the heavily-handed inclusion of fragrant cheese almost transform this meatball dish into a close encounter with yummy lasagna, minus the pasta.

For those of you who are into kitchen science, the béchamel miracle is no miracle indeed. For what goes into the milk-and-butter base in this sauce is lots of fine grains of flour dissolved and then thickened by heat. So it actually works on the same principle of adding dissolved corn starch to bulk up the rich gravy that will, when generously poured, splendidly cling onto the roasted rack of juicy, tender lamb.

So here’s great news if the doctor’s advised you to lay off the eggs and the béchamel sauce: you can cook the flour in water till it thickens, and use that as the gel that holds the minced meat together. And the bread crumbs as crusty coating over the rack of nicely pinked lamb. To top that, the prize for this substitution is that the flavours from the egg or béchamel are no longer there to distract from the fundamental experience of savoring the meatiness of the dish.  

Jams from the Tropics

Be adventurous: Floral jams anyone?

Fruit bats in my neighbourhood are absolutely having a field day year round – the houses with trees laden with owner-unwanted ripe mangoes or jambus out number the fingers I have on one hand. What’s not feasted upon by these adorable creatures of the night have only one fate – falling hard onto the ground, splattering the walkways with their nectarine juices. And I can’t help but wonder why no neighbour has harvested these wonderful fruit and turned them into jams. Is it because tropical fruit doesn’t offer a delicious flavour when jammed?

Well, this misgiving was well and truly laid to rest by the newly appointed chef at the Alila Resort in Ubud. His new breakfast menu includes a wonderful array of jams made from fruit naturally growing in Bali. His coconut jam is not a poor imitation of kaya jam: he has finely grated the milky white coconut flesh, and the slivers have withstood the jamming process. So when spread on toast, there is an amazingly sharp contrast in texture as well as taste.   

But that sensation is surpassed by his papaya jam. The fruity pulp disintegrates and becomes smoothly blended with the cane sugars during the jamming process; and out-classes his superb coconut jam by leaps and bounds. It truly pampers your taste buds the way marmalade or black berry jams do.

So if your garden’s shrubs have ripe papaya, pineapples or mangoes, rescue them from the same fate faced by my neighbours’ fruit trees. And toss them into the cauldrons of boiling sugars, stirring heartily as the potions brew; stopping only when scoops of these jams jell on a cold saucer.

Once bottled in sterilized jars, giving some of them away is a great way of saying ‘thanks’ for the dinner invitation. In Singapore, that gesture will be more novel than giving your dinner hosts a bottle of wine. And, given that food outshines alcohol as Singaporeans’ first love, it is highly likely to be more appreciated as well.

Trends Spotting

Take note: frogs mate only during the rainy seasons

The definitive cookbook in Australia has to be Stephanie Alexander's "The Cook's Companion". And it's encyclopedic proportions out rival Julia Child's first recipes-and-tips laden two volumes: the endearingly renown  Australian chef has included a section much in line with the idea of wine pairings. In her case, it was the ingenious inclusion of an exhaustive list of ingredients known to pair up well with a specific produce.

And this innovative idea actually liberates the novice cook to daringly modify Stephanie's suggested recipes to better suit her family's special food preferences. So if parsley severely disagrees with little Tom, you can confidently replace this herb, as used in her pan-fried fish with browned butter sauce, with another in the list - say dill, oregano or rosemary - without compromising on the flavours promised with this dish.

Now is this the only way in which a home cook can pick up the fine art of pairing ingredients? Well, that's a definite "no"; and I'm not about to suggest attending a cooking course. Instead, just take your time testing out new recipes created by a wide variation of chefs, over an equally diverse range of cuisines. Then, it will dawn on you that it is this particular set of  ingredients that are usually preferred by celebrity chefs to form a delightfully close and successful matrimony with, say, salmon.  

So you'll confidently liberally spread tangy sour cream and fresh cream cheese over rye bread to balance it with the intense flavours offered by a topping of smoked salmon and brine-soaked capers. For dinner, you'll drizzle a sauce with mashed peas as the base onto sizzling pan seared ocean-fresh salmon fillets. Or chuck out the peas, and sear the cut of pink salmon with potent sage instead. Just remember to juice it with a slice of zesty lemon.

A Feast for the Eyes

Sweet nectar: irresistibly pink 

Dans le Noir in Paris shrouds its diners in total darkness to heighten their appreciation of the taste and texture of modern French cuisine. But as chef Michael Smith soon discovers, in his TV series "Chef Abroad", that for some food offered by this novel dining concept, what you can't see you can't taste as well. Truly this is testimony that you feast first with your eyes.

As you well know, the Japanese buy into first pleasuring your sight big time. And, to my greatest delight, so does Malaysia's celebrity chef Wan: in his "Best Wan" cooking TV series, he dishes his piping hot squid in black ink onto a plate decorated with fiery red chillis and a generous swirl of said ink round its distinctively white porcelain edge And so transforms unassuming pitch darkness to the promise of a sumptuous affair. And in that one ingenious stroke of the ink brush, he has successfully put to rest the common mis-conception that his country's national cuisine cannot compete in the same visual league as Japanese cuisine.

But what comes through most clearly in his cooking show is this: simple home cooking can surpass passing the taste test by first tantalizing hubby with a humble peasants' spaghetti that's handsomely heaped with a cheese-infused bolognese sauce; which in turn is sparingly garnished with fresh leafy sprigs of charmingly green tarragon.

And you can even transform a curry dish from being visually mundane to an artistic inspiration by plating the fluffy fragrant rice in a ramekin, with fanned out blanched snow peas peeping seductively from a hearty helping of a spiced up, coconut-laced concoction of cherry tomatoes and thickly sliced chicken.

Then hubby will happily question the need of ever having to dine out when dining in offers an equally delightful festive feast. But when an evening at a classy restaurant is called for during say a birthday or wedding anniversary, he'll pay you the greatest compliment by not ordering from the menu what you have pleasured all his senses at home.