u m a m i

Start your day right.

                        

It is 6 pm and totally dark outside. The weather is more agreeable, i.e. not too cold but rain drizzles continually which is OK as I am mostly indoors. Tomorrow is the first day of November, also All Saints' Day in the Catholic calendar and a public holiday for all. This morning I saw prune-stuffed pork loin in the market, it'll be perfect for lunch tomorrow. The roasting juices will go well with bread and we can then finish with aged Comté and maybe break out the new straw box of Vacherin Mont D'or.

And then I really need to knuckle down and sew. Because the binding for Mummy's giant green quilt needs to be attached by mid month or we'll never finish on time for our trip home next month. Therefore posting will be a bit erratic.

In the meantime, I am pleased to report that I've acquired a good habit. Eating breakfast. It's trivial news but important to me because I now have the time to enjoy breakfast. In the past it was always too hot, or there was simply no time, or nothing suitable to eat. Here, the tummy's adjusted to the French lunch hour of 1.00 pm or later, made possible with a little base of something nutritious and sustaining like fruits, oatmeal, bits of cheese, toast or something sweet. Please enjoy the pictures that appears in this (newly learned) pictobrowser:

Rome I

                        

Everyone told me I had to visit the Trevi Fountain, throw a coin inside and make a wish that I will return to this city. C was sceptical, she's never done the coin thing and look at her, she's back on her third trip. Still, ever indulgent, she put up with my curiosity and wonder at being in Italy for the very first time in my life; and wouldn't you know it, on the day of our visit, someone decided to turn the water red. I scrambled up an elevated step to take a picture like all the other tourists.

                      

Now that I have some time to settle down and look at the pictures of the brief trip, my best food memory of Italy is of how far the Italians take simple ingredients like flour, oil and salt. Take this bakery item, before it was shattered into pieces it was a large round disc called Croccantella, looking very much like a giant poppadom. It is very crispy, and seasoned lavishly with extra virgin olive oil and salt. We picked greedily at the most oily and salty pieces; two days later when I was too full to have dinner I picked up the bag to nibble on the less loved bits and to my surprise found that it was still as crisp and crunchy as the day we bought it.

                      

Our bed & breakfast Casa Banzo was a palazzo built way back in the mid 18th century. The public areas retain a faded grandeur especially in the receiving hall and dining room, the blue walls outside and within the courtyard change their tone with the shadows and sun, very picturesque. Our ground floor courtyard room was quiet, spacious and clean, tastefully decorated with a mix of old (lace/antique fabric-lined wardrobe) and new (Ik*a clock). The location smack in the Campo de'Fiori area may be touristy but very convenient for sightseeing, best of all the price was a reasonable 140 euros per night. The only downside, for me that is, was the water system, the hot and cold taps were not always cooperative.

Rome is not a cheap city to visit, sure it is cheaper than Paris but not by very much. About the only thing which seemed to cost little is olive oil, which was drizzled generously over the fried egg I requested for my breakfast. Not as dramatically perfumed as the oils I like to buy back in Paris, but just as fruity and more often than not, so fresh it is closer to a drink than an oil. At breakfast the owners dole out butter by the mini packs, which earned a few raised eyebrows but later I realised that butter is quite a rare commodity. Bakery items are made with olive oil more often than not, their fruity and aromatic flavours pairing beautifully with apples, fruits, almonds, pinenuts and the all the other mainstays of Italian sweets.

                     

Like this cake cut from a pan, it looks very rustic, a far cry from the pretty-pretty confections that is the standard in Paris. The taste, a sweet and subtle blend of chestnuts, honey and olive oil. C called it the Italian mooncake, I quite agreed. Back in Paris, we're using our olive oils with impunity, loads of it with a squeeze of lemon juice and a sprinkle of sea salt make happy reminders of the all too brief holiday.

What else did we enjoy eating? It'll have to wait until the next post, until then, have a good weekend.                  

Odori

                   

Two things on my mind right now. First, how to keep warm. It's three-layered clothings, socks and even gloves on. The bedrooms are warm enough but not the living and dining rooms, and our dinky portable heaters are not keeping up with the high ceilings and stone walls. Wish we can kidnap the building's manager and make him experience for himself how cold the apartment really is. Seriously we've been on their case since June and all they've done is sent in people to make quotations. It's never cheap enough, yet they seem to have no qualms about collecting our very hefty rent. Hrmmph!

The other issue is hydration. The air is super dry and my skin gets so wrinkly and itchy that I have to apply lotion twice a day and turn on the humidifier when I sleep. It's not my habit to drink a lot so I've had to make sure we have lots of soups, teas and congees scattered in the weekly menu to boost the water intake.

Therefore, all thoughts turn to truly warming foods. Last night it was duck and vegetable curry. And stir-fried fresh scallops at the so-called bargain price of 15 euros for 3 kilos worth. Tonight we're having spice-rubbed fried lamb chops, I am on a grilled lamb phase right now. It'll go well with grilled marinated peppers and some clear vegetable soup I'm sure. Chicken congee for Friday night dinner. I'm organised and plan my menu early on in the week, a bit strange but well, that's how it is in our household.

Maybe this weekend we will go to our favourite Korean restaurant which serves a super-delicious spicy hotpot starring fish roe, lots and lots of it, accompanied by a riotous selection of other bits of seafood. The name is Odori, it's a bit out of the way in the depths of the 15th arrondissement but well worth the trek. Every dish that we've tried had ranged from good to excellent- pajeons layered thickly with scallions, generous helpings of banchans, slickly and slippery chap jae with loads of vegetables, homely stews all served with patience and smiles. I can't think of anywhere better for eating in this weather, well, save for my favourite noodle house, which has inexplicably stayed closed these recent weeks.

Odori, 18 rue Letellier, 15th. T: 01 45 77 88 12. M: Emile Zola oe La Motte Piquet Grenelle. Closed Mondays.

                  

Glad to be back

Rome was great. The ruins, the piazzas, the green topiary-like trees (names, anyone?), pizzas and amazing Italian wines. Our B&B that was a former palazzo. Gregarious old ladies in black. Deep fried foods. Artichokes. Barolo, mmmm.

Still, we're truly glad to be back home. And none more so than my poor sister C. Her 4.30 pm flight was cancelled because of the air-traffic controllers' strike. Cancelled. Without notice. Without alternative recourse. She was only able to leave with a 6 am flight this morning. I was thankful that my flight left at 7.50 pm, only 15 minutes later than scheduled.

Though the holiday was super, getting there and returning home were low points. Transport strikes. Long queues everywhere. Being at the mercy of indifferent workers such as a super-bitchy signora with fake tan who actually sneered at a hapless French passenger and made fun of a Chinese traveller who couldn't speak Italian or French. Confusion. Miscommunications. My boarding pass said gate B3, the TV screen said B9. At B9, travellers on a Lufthansa flight realised a little too late that their gate should have been B1. Mad dashes and groans of dismay all round. Just when I think I am getting used to living in Europe, along comes something like transport woes to rough it up again. C'est la vie!

And on a very positive note, this morning I saw a comment from Dale, a reader who made Yuk Si from a recipe I posted way back in July 2004. My mum will be really tickled to learn that her recipe was turned into an art performance!

Hi,

I tried your recipe except with kangaroo meat.
I'm Australian after all. I made a sweet version which was
very acceptable in taste, i just need to practice the texture,
although i got it right, but need to work on the crispy/fluffy
side of it.

I actually made it for an ART performance and then made a
desert for the audience to try!! :)

THANKS for your info!

Dale.

P.S. It's cold here. Forget autumn, it's bloody winter already. A cold wind is blowing through most of Europe and we're not spared. I have to wear ski cap, socks, long sleeved tops and long pants to sleep. Mimi point blank refuses her bed, preferring the bottom of ours instead, and her appetite is bigger now- well, rabbit stew for breakfast would do that to one- and she is now so long her clothes no longer fit! Rufus gets her wardrobe and struts like a tinkling popinjay.

Easing into Autumn

                        

The daylight hours are getting very short, the wind is 'fresh' as the locals put it, and the body craves something warm. Instead of the usual braises and stews that most cookbooks call for, we are still eating our usual homestyle Chinese foods, but with definite slants towards warming foods. Such as congees in their various permutations. Above is a version with beef balls and a walloping swirl of Guiness Marmite. We usually have congees with pork ribs or chicken but tried beef balls because of a picture that Su-Lin (of foodblog Tamarind and Thyme) posted in Flickr.

                        

And soups of course. This season's favourite is a riff on the old confinement (post-partum ostracisation month for Chinese women) menu favourite Ginger Chicken Soup. A clear broth of chicken, ginger and conpoy as a base, then bolstered with some vegetables, wood ear fungus and sheets of rice noodles to make it a meal-in-a-bowl. Though some may argue that cabbage is strictly speaking a cooling food. Whatever.

                      

Ginger is the top ingredient in our shopping list. The freshest and cheapest I found at Tang Frères. Sausage and pork steamed over a bed of ginger does wonders in warming the body and easing joint aches and pains. Young spinach cooked in vegetable stock refreshes the palate and is full of good vitamins.

                     

Here thinly sliced matchstick ginger pops up again, this time fried to a crispy gold. If the ginger is not too old, the heat is gentler and the taste is half-sweet, half-spicy. Good eaten as a snack or as a topping for Sardine Beehoon.

                     

Another beehoon dish, this time stirfried with strips of beef, vegetables and kimchi. Kimchi has plenty of Korean peppers and garlic, natural body warmers. We have been eating quite a lot of simple one-dish meals because with husband often away on his business trips, we can go easy on the cooking and eat lightly.                                 

                      

Still, nothing perks up noodle dishes like a little snacky side dish. Potstickers for example, and falafels, made according to the Mark Bittman video in NYTimes but we halved the parsley and added cayenne and paprika to up the spice factor.

                      

And when all else fail, dress warmly and cover up well. If possible, travel to a place with warmer weather such as Rome which is where C and I are heading for tomorrow. Ciao!

update 8.38 pm Paris time: the weather in Rome will turn colder this weekend. And who knows whether I'll be able to get to the airport in time what with the transport strike and blocked roads. Fingers crossed....

                      

The art of Cookie Tins

                        

C likes cookie tins. She uses it for storing dried goods and pantry staples much like we use Tupperware, surely an environmentally sound idea. Here we have some tins gathered from Belgium, Berlin and Aachen. They were bought as souvenirs or came as gifts from friends. My favourite is the Tintin one, don't the Thomson twins just crack you up?

Hari Raya in Paris

                   

One of the first, and best thing I did was to sign up as a member of the Malaysian Association in France (MAF). The association is very active in organising gatherings for fellow Malaysians and their families e.g. a CNY lunch, charity bazaars, games and Merdeka Day celebrations.

For an important festival like Hari Raya they invited members to the Hari Raya Open House celebrations at the Malaysian Ambassador's residence. In true spirit of Malaysian hospitality people can just turn up, shake the Ambassador's hand, wish one another "Selamat Hari Raya"and after waiting a respectable interval, queue up for free food. Yes, free food in Paris, unbelievable but completely true.

Husband and I were excited, we were hoping that there would be satay. Turned out that satay was not on the menu, but something even better was available, i.e. Beef Rendang. With Lemang. Also Char Beehoon, Ayam Masak Merah, Ketupat and Achar. The falafel wasn't in the menu, we brought a batch to share. There were also some simple cakes and among the beverages, freshly brewed teh tarik.

The queue for the food moved slowly but it was worth the long wait for a taste of home, well actually I nearly shrieked out in joy after taking the first bite of the rendang. Like, move over 7-hour mijotes de boeuf, hello melting beef pieces coated in glorious spicy coconut cream reduction. My tastebuds, I swear, were hi-fiving with the sauce, so exuberant was their reacquaintance. It wasn't the best rendang I've ever tasted but for sure it was the most happy-making version.

To my friends and readers, I would like to wish you all a Selamat Hari Raya too!

Yes really I am that shallow

Post updated 14 Oct with picture, as requested.

                  

The article below made me laugh, it is a refreshing view of all that current navel-gazing fashion consciousness of our times.

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/10/14/magazine/14style-new-t.html?ex=1350014400&en=6267de8a7e6f7ab6&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink

I should know, last night as I was walking I saw from the corner of my eyes a silver wristlet pouch bag thing dangling from a female hand. I did not even glance upwards to catch her face, all I knew was that I had to have something like that too. It would be just nice for wallet and phone when I go to the markets, because let's face it, these days I am more housewife than social animal, so after our dinner (succulent oven-baked cockles, delicious fish soup, highly indifferent service at Le Bistrot de Marius, too pissed off to order coffee and desserts) we went over to Publicis and I bought myself one as well. In green distressed leather.

The cat and fish pouch, by the way, used to be my office lunch bag- we put a few essentials in it (mobile phone, change, ID, tissue, lipstick) for popping into the cafeteria. Back in the days when I had a job to go to.

Tip of the day

                        

                        

I don't know about other people, but I am the clumsy sort who always seem to have difficulty eating noodles with heaped toppings e.g. wantan or zhajiang mian, mee pok etc. Inevitably the snarly noodles tangle up, the ingredients do not merge for maximal sauce-noodle ratio, not without a bit of a struggle anyway, and the hands holding the chopsticks gets so sore from all the work. Occasionally I resorted to snipping the noodles with scissors, or used a fork instead. All that tug-of-war though, is in the past, for recently I've discovered a simple and neat alternative.

                               

See the lower left corner where some babi sioh peeks through? Instead of placing all the good stuff on top of the noodles, why not arrange the ingredients in layers. Two layers of each should do the trick for an easier mix-and-eat, and the presentation is far more elegant. This trick works well with pastas and rice dishes too.

P.S. GG pickled the green chillis herself. Crunchy, hot, sour, sweet. Goes great with all sorts of noodle dishes.

Revisiting Josephine "Chez Dumonet"

                        

Two weeks ago, C swept into town for a super-quick weekend. She wanted confit de canard so I took her to Josephine Chez Dumonet. It was a thoroughly enjoyable lunch, just like my first visit. The baguette with butter was very good, we munched through nearly two baskets. So was the baby bowls of gazpacho. My sister loved the duck, skin crisped perfectly and the meat none too salty, just right.

                        

Me, I decided to try Foie de Veau or calf liver. Cooked medium rare or pink as they say it here. It came in a whopping big piece which the waiter reassured me was considered just a 'petite' version. Haha. Panfried exterior gorgeous to look at and provided just the slightest crisp resistance before teeth sank into melting sweet liver. Not too gamey, but earthy and savoury enough to not pretend that it is anything other than an organ meat, in a really good way of course. Hardly needed its accompaniment of fluffy buttery mash but definitely was much enhanced when napped with its delicious sauce of raspberry vinegar. The sweet-tanginess of the sauce, like a subtle balsamic vinegar, helped cut much of the liver's richness and before I knew it, I had worked through almost the entire thing. Looking around, every other table ordered it too, mainly the men, so in a fit of ladylike guilt I left behind a small piece. Besides, we had already ordered dessert, their famous souffle.

                      

C wanted their mille-feuille too, but they said no, it would be too much. How right they were, for the souffle was not served in a dainty fashion. It came to us puffed grandly over a big soup bowl and a side glass of Grand Marnier. (My sister still takes pictures, very good ones, with her very old manual Canon, and she was impressed enough to want a photo.) We dug in, and it was lovely. Not too sweet as souffles can get, the liquer helped immensively. Still, we are both not really souffle worshippers and couldn't finish it which left a little wiggle room in the tummy for their excellent mignardises.

Next time it'll definitely have to be the mille-feuilles.