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| peranakan mee siam: one grandma's recipe, another grandma's bowl |
I LOVE MY FOOD!!
i am a true Singaporean. And, if you've met any of us, you'll soon realize how much we love our food!! not only do i love food, i also love preparing meals as well :) but i think, most importantly, it's not really about food or recipes, it's about sharing a delightful home-cooked meal with family and friends - it's also about how our lives revolve around our Asian heritage, our culture, our values, our enjoyment in engaging with people we dearly care about - all in the name of good food :)
my blog on home cooked food is online. here's the link: http://nonya-jean.blogspot.com/
here, below, are stories i wrote for Singapore's Celebrity Chef Devagi Sanmugam - two stories from her past, the first, a fond childhood memory:
STORY 1: AMMA'S PINEAPPLE TARTS
(Singapore Celebrity Chef - Devagi Sanmugam - a childhood story written with her...)
My mother (whom we fondly call “Amma”) used to bake the most delicious, mouth-watering and irresistible sweet pineapple tarts in her homemade charcoal oven. She baked them when Grandma visited us once a year, just before we celebrate Deepavali, the Hindu Festival of Lights.
My mother (whom we fondly call “Amma”) used to bake the most delicious, mouth-watering and irresistible sweet pineapple tarts in her homemade charcoal oven. She baked them when Grandma visited us once a year, just before we celebrate Deepavali, the Hindu Festival of Lights.
I remember that both Amma and Grandma would spend the whole morning grating fresh, juicy pineapples into a huge red plastic basin. When they finished, Amma would creep into the wardrobe and tear a piece of white cloth from my father’s unused veshti. She would then wrap the grated pineapples into the cloth and squeeze out as much of the pineapple juice as possible. Nothing Amma made was wasted. She would dilute the pineapple juice and divide it for all of us to drink. What a wonderful treat!
As for the squeezed grated pineapple, Amma would cook them in a huge wok, along with a few cinnamon sticks, cloves and a few pandan leaves tied into a knot. She would also empty a huge jar of sugar into the wok. When she did that, I would be right beside her shouting “So much sugar!” and she would shout back at me to get lost from there.
Amma usually spent about half an hour stirring the pineapple jam over the fire until it turned golden brown. She would then remove the pandan leaves and the spices, place them on a plate and smile quietly to herself as my younger brother, Makeash, and I rushed to lick the bits of pineapple jam stuck onto the spices and the pandan leaves.
While Amma kneaded the dough, rolled it into little round balls and stamped the rolled dough with a pineapple tart cutter, Grandma was busy rolling the pineapple jam into marble-sized balls. When they were done, Amma and Grandma would start assembling the pineapple tarts. At the same time, Amma would get Makeash and me to use the remaining dough to decorate the pineapple tarts. Sometimes we would make alphabets, usually the first letter of our own names, and other times, little polka dots.
Amma arranged these tarts inside an aluminium pot and the pot was placed over a charcoal stove. On the pot cover, Amma put heated charcoal and sand so that the heat can bake the tarts from the top and bottom of the pot. This was her self-invented homemade charcoal oven.
The smell of baking pineapple tarts was incredibly breathtaking! It made us hungry! As for Amma, she would know when the tarts were ready, just by smelling. We would stick closely to Amma, especially when she removed the pineapple tarts from the pot to cool. Once cooled, our mouths would be busy as our fingers reached out for those delicious, freshly baked, melt-in-the-mouth tarts! Amma stored the rest in an airtight jar for Deepavali. We usually had about 3 to 4 large jars full of pineapple tarts but Amma knew we kids could easily finish up everything before Deepavali. So, she would personally “guard” the tarts unless she went to the wet market. When Amma needed to go to the market, she would put all these jars near my grandma’s bedside bench to prevent us from stealing the tarts.
But we stole those tarts anyway! When Amma left the house, Makeash would put his head on Grandma’s lap. Grandma liked this very much and it made her happy to caress his head and tell him what a good boy he was. Meanwhile, I would quietly stand next to the pineapple tarts, all ready for action. When I was in position, Makeash would put his hand into the folds of Grandma’s sari, get hold of one of her sagging breasts and shout “popooooooo”, as if he is pressing a horn of a car. When Grandma screamed at Makeash and waved her hands to slap him, I rushed to take one of the jars, removed about 10 pineapple tarts, closed the jar and returned it to the same spot. Makeash would rush out of Grandma’s clutches once I was done stealing them! We would then find a comfortable spot, split our stash and savour every bite before Amma returned from the market.
(note: Chef Devagi's recipe for Pineapple Tarts can be found online. <CLICK HERE>
Her other recipes can be found here: <MORE CHEF DEVAGI's RECIPES>)
STORY 2: UNCLE MEE GORENG MAN
(Singapore Celebrity Chef - Devagi Sanmugam - a "growing up" story written with her...)
Some familiar street calls of the 60’s and 70’s included the singing of street vendors and coffeeshop “uncles”…
Some familiar street calls of the 60’s and 70’s included the singing of street vendors and coffeeshop “uncles”…
“Na-si Le-mak!”
“Ma Pi Poh!”
“Tay-O chik puay! Coppee, Coppee see!”
“Lelong! Lelong!”(chang chang chang - rhythmic clanging on the gong)
“Garung Guni!” (pok pok - goes a bicycle horn)
“Mee Goreng!” (teng, teng, teng, teng...)
It was indeed one of those most expressive, vibrant times in our local history!
For most, some calls come with great excitement and anticipation, like the “teng teng” sound from the Mee Goreng Man who used to cycle to our HDB estate in the 1970’s.
Uncle Mee Goreng Man (also known as Mamak Mee Goreng) was one of the most popular person at our HDB estate. Everybody eagerly awaited his musical “teng, teng, teng, teng” sound of his spatula banging his wok.
Of course, it wasn’t only the rhythmic entertainment that made him popular. It was his mouth-watering Indian-Muslim version of mee goreng that I crave for in the afternoons as my tea time snack… that spicy, tomato-ish dry mee goreng with crunchy bits of cabbage, tau geh and chye sim, fragrant sliced green chillis and onions, tender tau kuah, curried potatoes, and finally, a fresh egg swirled into the delicious mix at high heat…
When Uncle Mee Goreng Man came by, we’d wave and shout for him from our flat, five storeys up. He’d stop his cart and set up his charcoal stove, hot wok and ingredients while we lowered a basket containing fresh chicken eggs, money and a clean plate for the delicious mee goreng. We made sure he used our chicken eggs as he charged 15 cents for each duck egg (we can get eggs for about 8 to 10 cents per egg). Besides, we felt that chicken eggs are tastier than duck eggs.
While Uncle Mee Goreng Man fried our plate of mee goreng, he made a musical “teng, teng, teng, teng” sound which attracted more and more customers. When all was done, we’d pull up our basket with the freshly cooked plate of mee goreng. It was so freshly hot, delicious and tempting that our neighbours downstairs would sometimes “threaten” to steal our basket – teasingly, of course, all in good, neighbourly fun.
Today, I fry my own plate of mee goreng with prawns and eggs (chicken eggs, of course), and it is truly my honour to share with you my personal version of Uncle Mee Goreng Man’s legacy…
I LOVE MY LEISURE TIME!!
Storybooks, Music, TV, Movies, Internet:
engaging media for live, learn, work & play
my favourite storybooks:
"the little prince" - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's
"the twits" - Roald Dahl
Tennis & Other Games/Sports:
a game for those who enjoy the combination of physical skills as well as strategy.
Photography/Videos:
love capturing "the moment" that can last a lifetime
