Places I Miss

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And probably don’t exist anymore…

A real Kopi Tiam, with lau ah pek’s talking about horse racing at the top of their voices.

A true Hawker Centre, with ka-chuak crunching underfoot, where the food is served on colourful melamine plates that you throw in a big wash basin after you’re finished. Plastic chopsticks in a big ceramic pot on every round table with rigid, backless plastic stools cemented into the ground. And a lot of aunties tut-tutting waiting for your table. Oh sorry, THEIR table cos you shouldn’t take so long, you know… Typified by Newton Circus (probably razed to the ground now) and Lau Pa Sat (before gentrification).

A full-on seafood place on East Coast Parkway. Chilli crabs! I’d have gotten married in Singapore if they would have let me have it at a chilli crab craphouse. Yeah, fat luck.

You can keep your gourmet Michelin-starred gastropubs, fancy French bistros, and your air-conditioned “food courts”. I want the old-school open-air, fan-overhead, noisy, busy, rude, chaotic makan places of my nostalgia.

Time to switch on the Singlish, shock the husband, slap on the sunblock, and swan back into the country that threw me out1 a decade and a half ago.

1 They didn’t technically throw me out, but there was no future for me there.

I am craving

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aka How akatsukira would spend her last day on earth.

Breakfast:

  • Roti prata
  • Tau huey (sweetened bean curd)
  • Soya bean milk (see above) with you tiao (chinese churros)
  • Nasi Lemak
  • Teh Tarik (or even just ginger tea)
  • Teochew porridge
  • Taiwanese porridge
  • Dan tart
  • Soon Kueh
  • Chwee Kueh
  • Kaya on white plastic bread
  • Bak Kut Teh (in Johor)

Lunch:

  • Hokkien Mee
  • Laksa
  • Mee Goreng
  • Mee Siam
  • Mee Rubus
  • Dempsey Rd Banana Leaf Curry
  • Pohpiah
  • Char Kway Teow
  • Kueh Chap

Afternoon snack:

  • Tanjong Rhu Char Siew Bao
  • “Carrot cake” (the savory turnip variety)
  • Tau Sah Beng
  • Chendol
  • Ice Kacang
  • Otah
  • Coconut Water
  • More Dim Sum
  • Goreng Pisang
  • Ah Boling
  • Muah Chee
  • Peranakan Kueh

Dinner:

  • Chilli Crab
  • Steamboat
  • Hainanese Chicken Rice
  • Laksa again; this time Penang-style
  • More Hokkien Mee, with extra prawns and lime

Supper:

  • Satay
  • Lontong
  • Anything from Lau Pa Sat
  • Is Newton Circus still open? Anything from there too.
  • Yong Tau Fu
  • Ahh… Grilled stingray!

Makan1! Then die happy…

1 Guess where I’m headed after a 12 year absence…

Grant Proposals

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Academic research is pretty much funded by investigators panhandling, using the medium of grant applications. These suck up more than 50% of ones effort in times of poor funding. I’d like to propose a new method of grant applications: the 140 character limit Tweet.

Dear Funding Body, Plz gimme sum munny. My lab iz broke and we need dollahs to buy science. KTHXBAI.

Unravel me

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Unravel me, i missed a stitch, i’m now at the end of the row, a constant pain.

My first attempt at yarn-based crafts was an unmitigated disaster. Back when I was a wee lass, my mother gave me a crochet hook, some garish pink acrylic yarn, and told me to crochet up a round coaster. I ended up with a doll-sized beanie (but with no doll to put it on). Suffice to say, the bug did not bite (although the mosquitoes never stopped).

Then I started seeing chotda’s yarn stash on Flickr, and realised that even I could not knit or crochet to save my life, I could at least partake in yarn pr0n (and a bit of stroking on the side). This momentary infatuation (aka work-avoidance) will pass…

But in the meantime, I have joined Ravelry.com, and you can find me at my usual moniker if you’re a knit-wit too.

She’s a big girl now

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It’s 2 years to the Superbowl Sunday when we met Queen Kirinopolophagus. She was, and remains, a super-dominant, passive-aggressive, eternally-shedding, attention-seeking, loveable, loyal, luscious, ludicrous specimen of Canis lupus.

Here she is on her birthday:

Painted dog

And she’s knackered from chasing balls on the beach here:

exhausted dog

Here’s her looking a little worried (she remains fearful of all cameras even when I’m holding her favourite chicken):

huff huff

My dog is ginger, and I love her:

thar she glows

More gratuitous dog photos on Kirin’s Flickr set.

Subarashi Sukiyaki

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Sukiyaki in preparation

I’ve jabbered on about sukiyaki before, so here’s a quick run-down of the “how to”:

  1. Prepare the ingredients. This dish needs to be cooked at the dining table, and it’s best to have everything ready. We buy the beef pre-sliced. The flower-shaped gluten-thingy² needs to be rehydrated (soak briefly, a few min, and squeeze lightly). Slice the negi (spring onion, but a lot bigger than the regular spring onion) and yaki-tofu (broil some firm tofu if you can’t buy pre-grilled tofu), and cut the shirataki (noodle form of konnyaku) into bite-sized pieces. There’s some enokitake under the flower-shaped gluten-thingy too, but looking too bedraggled to be photographed; shiitake works too.  If you can get a hold of shungiku (edible chrysanthemum leaves), all the better since they add a rather “fresh” taste to what is otherwise a pretty heavy dish. I’ve used “chinese/napa cabbage” and it works too; makes it sweeter. One day I’ll try dandelion leaves. Or not.
  2. After setting up the table with a portable gas stove and a sturdy pot (make sure the sake or tea are ready too!), start by frying a few slices of negi in some oil (beef fat if you want an even earlier heart attack) and add a few slices of beef. The aim is to cook just enough for everyone at the table to get a few mouthfuls before everything is over-cooked, so don’t stick the whole shebang in.
  3. And we cook it “Kansai”-style³ just because I’m too lazy to pre-mix a sauce. According to my trusty Japanese Home Cooking manual, 3 tbsp of mirin, 3 tbsp of sugar and 3 tbsp of soya sauce are added to the pan as the beef sizzles away. I shudder at the thought of so much sugar, and only ever add 1 tbsp at most. And maybe a little less soya sauce too. We usually add a dribble of water to compensate for the lower volume of soya sauce.
  4. Before the beef is fully-cooked (ie when it’s still a wee bitty red), add a bit of everything else (green veg last) and let it all simmer away while you…
  5. Fight for the beef! Dip in raw egg if you like.
  6. Repeat ad infinitum. Actually, don’t. You might explode.

¹ I’ve heard of folks slicing frozen steak to get it thin enough. We will explore this when Nijiya is no longer an option.

² I think it’s called “fu”, but don’t quote me on that one. I call it gluten-thingy. It’s not usually flower-shaped. I just bought that on a whim. I think the traditional style is tubular. The cookbook has “wheels” of fu. Or gluten-thingy.

³I will have to ask my Japanese colleagues about whether they really cook it Kanto vs Kansai style. But I know the answer will not be straight-forward. You know, it never is with scientists… We always have to give the objective answer.

Earthquake indicators

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Not having grown up in an earthquake-prone country, I feel somewhat unsure whenever one happens. Not that I’ve noticed many since moving to LA 3 years ago; only the two 5.0+ “moderate” earthquakes in recent months.

Even so, I’m never sure it’s really happening. During the first one in July 2008, I was at my cell culture hood and only cottoned on to what was happening when I saw the sloshing water in our giant sonicator bath. It was then confirmed when the 2 Japanese postdocs ran in and ducked under the sturdy lab benches in case of aftershocks.

Today’s was another “was that real?” moment. This time, I was kinda sure. A quick check of the “Jurassic Park” effect in my water bottle assured me I wasn’t just dizzy. A few minutes later, it popped up on the USGS site, but that was a few minutes too long for someone as inexperienced as me. I need to know if I should duck under my desk a lot quicker than that.

My proposed solution? I’m going to autoclave some ddH2O in a wide diameter bottle and just leave it on my table. Far more reliable than the interwebs.

Beef Stroggy

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Beef Strogakurimustew

Went a bit mad buying weekday lunch ingredients in the supermarket last week. Cooked pounds of chicken thigh, pounds of carrots, and pounds of ham and beans, leaving behind half a cow in the fridge. The critical question today was not whether I could get the RO1 edited in time, nor whether I’d remember to submit the internal mini grant, but: What to do with 2 lbs of beef that’s been in the fridge for 4 days and getting a wee bit oxidised?

Eh. Beef Stroganoff / Stroganov. Enough to feed a bleeding army.

  • 1.5 – 2 lb beef. I think the cut was round top. No doubt Stroganoff puritans are turning in their graves.
  • Crap loads of muchrooms. Equivalent to 3 times the volume of beef, weight undetermined.
  • 1 mega onion with a green shoot growing out the top. I think that makes it better, no?
  • Flour. Lots of flour. And then another few tablespoons.
  • Butter. A few tablespoons.
  • Mustard powder, Colemans will do.
  • Nutmeg. Do I hear more Stroganoffians turning in said graves?
  • Pepper
  • Stock of some sort. Had fresh ham stock, but decided on the milder chicken bouillon instead. About 2 cups.
  • Milk. About 1 cup.
  1. Sliced the crap loads of mushrooms and chopped onions. Ended up with 2 heaped dinner plates of muchrooms¹. Kept onions separate, natch.
  2. Sliced beef with a little more care. Mainly sliced along the grain, and then into thinner strips also along the grain. Went a bit gaga towards the end and sliced against the grain. Bloody obvious which slices those were when we finally ate.
  3. As was slicing beef, threw slices into gigantic dish with flour liberally sprinkled with mustard powder and grated nutmeg. Only a pinch of nutmeg, mind. Bloody loads of mustard powder though. About 3 tsp in ~half a cup of flour. Could have done with more.
  4. Heated up buckets of oil in large saute pan. Maybe not buckets, but enough to half-submerge the thinnish beef slices. Prob half an inch high.
  5. Over medium-high gas, fried the beef in small batches. SMALL BATCHES CRITICAL. Yes. Well. But took bloody ages, dinnit? Got bored, didn’t I? Fried the last batch crowded. Came out more blah. Very important to note here that I like my beef fried hard and fast. Otherwise the inside turns to stone. Like being stared at by Medussa.
  6. Set fried beef aside. Worked on onion next. In direct contrast to the way I like to cook beef, I sauteed the onions gently. They were babied.
  7. Set onions aside too. Got to work on the mushrooms. Filled surface of pan with mushrooms. Wondered what to do with the other bloody ton. As mushrooms shrank, added more, and more, and more, and more… Note to self: use all 4 burners next time and we’ll eat before midnight.
  8. Gave up on idea of using saute pan. Got soup pot out and unceremoniously dumped the fried onions, mushrooms and beef in there. But rinsed out pan with some stock first to get the lovely juices out.
  9. Made roux in separate pan. 3 tbsp butter, melted. 3 tbsp flour, whisked in. 1 cup milk, whisked in. And from there I sort of lost count of liquid that went it. It could have been 1 cup of stock or 2. My brain was truly starved of glucose by then.
  10. Dumped sloppy roux over beef, mushrooms and onions. It could have been prettier.
  11. Realized that I had to be a little more gentle, or the entire dinner-for-an-army could end up splattered all over the kitchen walls. Turned heat to v v low. Like less than simmer low.
  12. Splooshed some cream on. The whole point of this exercise was to get rid of stuff in the fridge. There was the half-a-cow. Done. There was the entire field of mushrooms. Gone. And then, there was this half pint of cream that we’ve been trying really really hard to get rid of. The surplus from a Christmas chocolate mousse. It’s gone in our tea, coffee, and even in Milo. At least we didn’t have it with our breakfast cereal². And still there’s more. It’s the never-ending half pint of cream. Anyway, it’s gone now.
  13. Served up over some gohan. Because we’re Fobby like that.
  14. Went a bit gaga and posted heinous, sacrilegious fake Beef Stroganoff recipe on blog.
  15. Gave up and had Milo. With cream³.

¹ Intended. Sorry.

² Someone I knew used to have Crunchy Nut Cornflakes with single cream. Wonder if he’s still alive.

³ There’s another unopened half pint still in the fridge. Best by the 15th. In need of way to use it up without leading to immediate arterial blockage.

Morro Bay

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Dog on Strand Sunny Morro Bay
You're Driftwood undaunted
beach tennis exhausted dog

Morro Bay, Thanksgiving weekend, 2008.

Pootled up CA-1 to escape LA and the lab. The main purpose of our trip was to hit the dog-friendly beach: Morro Strand State Beach, that we’d been to the previous summer. As memory served, it was very very long, and full of dogs and surfers. It had not, as expected, changed at all; the perfect dog beach.

Morro Bay is exactly the kind of small Californian town we’d imagined before arriving in LA. It’s like Elie and Pittenweem in Fife, Scotland, although parts of it felt more like Anstruther without the fish and chip shops. But much, much warmer and sunnier, of course. But from snippets of local conversation eavesdropped in the shops, its dependence on tourism may kill it sooner than later. Nearby Pismo Beach has newer, fancier, higher-throughput resort-style hotels, as opposed to the low-key motels that populate Morro Bay. But that, for us, was the very charm of the place. Bustling without being overwhelming. And it was pretty busy Thanksgiving weekend, going by the queues to get into all the breakfast places.

Many dog-friendly places in Morro Bay; lots of patio seating both on the main touristm stretch of Embacadero as well as in town on Main St. And as an added bonus, a street Christmas fair on our last day. What better way to spend the day than popping Kettle corn while strolling about town and The Rock. Morro Rock is one of those features that looks gorgeous only from afar. As you get closer, you can see where it was dynamited for building materials. Naturally, that has ceased and peregrine falcons are rumoured to live in the crevies. All we saw were the usual squaking gulls. And lots of crazy breakers.

I for one want places like Morro Bay to survive. Its aesthetic is the perfect salve to city life.