Learning From the Masters Themselves

The first time I met Allan, at Rocky Coffee Shop, "godma" intro-d me to him, and my first question was, "Are you guys intending to start classes". This was like 2 years back, before I finally had the privilege of being added to their (Allan & Nigel) facebook count of 1000 friends or so.

So, when Nigel sent out word that classes were commencing, I was rather excited. The butter cake class was fully booked before I could even utter the word CHURN. I expressed an interest to join the 2nd class, which was Chilled Souffles and Mousse.

Strictly speaking, I guess you can't call it a baking class, since there was hardly any baking involved, if by definition baking required an oven or heat. It was a cosy class, so it was like getting privately tutored by the master himself. I felt like Kung Fu Panda under the tutelage of Shih Fu.

While waiting, (for the rest to arrive), I checked out the raw ingredients.

Is this a bird cage ah?

Masak Masak was one of my fellow classmates too. We started with some theory, such as the differences between souffles (SOO-FLAY) and Mousses. Basically one got egg yolk la. Below is ginger taking a spa bath in milk, with the purpose of infusing the milk with the gingery scent, for the Chilled Ginger Souffle.

Souffles involve a lot of whipping of white stuff together, from egg whites, to cream. We were taught the proper techniques of beating properly, so that the egg whites are not to stiff, or not too soft, etc etc.

Oh dear, I can't remember, but I think this was when the cream was folded into the basic souffle mixture. (in this case, coconut)


The masterbaker shows us his beaten cream....stiff, with a small nipple on top.



Again, he shows off his whisk, with egg whites beaten to make the meringue fingers. The sign of doneness is the long pointy tail.



A delicate snip of the foreskin of the bag, to let the white stuff ooze out effortlessly.


Grip and press, steadily.


One doesn't have to stick to fingers, you can also make circular movements to form a nest.





There's something about the melting of chocolate that really warms the heart......it makes you feel that everything is right in the world, especially if its good quality couverture buttons.


A satisfied student licks the spoon which was used to melt the butter, with sighs and moans of esctasy.


The glorious amalagmation of White on Black. Well, brown, actually. It's like a marriage between lemongrass and a caucasian.


Makes you just want to attack that whisk with the dining etiquette of a drunken sailor.



The unmolded chilled ginger souffle with a drizzle of gula melaka syrup. Absolutely divine.


Meringue Fingers, that resemble baked nudibranchs, stripped of their color.

Of course, it was a delightfully entertaining class. And the end product? I loved the ginger souffle and the chocolate mousse. The chilled coconut pudding would be nice if you are a coconut fan, and I since am ambivalent about coconut, except for Bounty chocolates, and chendol, and sago gula melaka, I would rank that my 3rd favourite after the other 2. Well, do check out the Just Heavenly Website for their future class offerings.

Fly Dragon, Kajang

Actually there was no signboard to indicate such a name, so I am not sure if it was written in chinese, or invisible ink. Located in Kajang Prima this double shop occupies one corner, mostly alfresco dining, and intermediate which is airconditioned.

The meal was preceded with a complimentary hearty soup comprising pork, chicken, ham choi, (salted vegetable) which was exceedingly tasty and really gives you that homey feeling. My dietician tells me that the correct way to eat, is to drink a glass of water before a meal, drink nothing during, and drink lots half an hour after. Makes sense, its to lubricate the passageways before, and to flush out later, and not dilute the stomach juices that are digesting the food. So, what about soup? Who knows, it's one of those mysteries, like how the pyramids were built.

Thankfully, when you have 4 hungry mouthlets to feed, the taufu dish came first. I have trained my brood well, they can survive on a simple meal of taufu and rice, or egg and rice. Money saved from not feeding them the western imperialists fast food, big Macs and what not, are channelled into their education fund.

The taufu, in bite size chunks, was very palatable. Swimming in a sea of tasty gravy, and mince meat, its the perfect economical dish to slather over a bowl of rice, and watch the chewdren eat contentedly.

What is it about greens and children? It's like the wicked witch of the west and water. Kids no 1 & 3 at least eat spinach, but when it comes to the harder vegetables, like choy sam and kailan, you can forget it. Nevertheless, the vegetables were lovely, verdant and tender. So green, so much so one wonders if they have been dyed.

Does anyone recall the story of Rapunzel? Her pregnant mother had cravings for the lovely vegetables in the neighbouring garden, belonging to the witch, and asked her husband to go steal them for her. With lovely greens like these, I can understand why a pregnant woman might crave them.

I am sure the pork knuckles were popularised only after the advent of the numerous deutsche gashauses that sprung up like weeds in the late 90s. Before that, chinese pork dishes did not include this in their repertoire. Now not only have they replicated it, but arguably, made it better. At least that's what the older folk say. In-laws who spent some time in Munich recently declares this local version is better by far. Crispy crunchy crackling, buffered from the meat by a layer of gloriously sinful fat. What more can a person want.

Onion rings must have also been an influence of the west. Or was it inspired by Japanese Tempura? Anyway, these rings were accompanying the deepfried chicken, and they go together like the Ring of Power and Frodo.

The chicken was succulent and tasty, and terribly unhealthy, being deepfried and all. Is it any wonder that my cholesterol readings are almost like the scores of a professional ice skater or diver? (as in their scores after a performance)

A steamed fish, tilapia, according to kid no 2, who identifies them by the tail, soaked in a chilli gravy. The fish was exceedingly fresh, and didn't exude that muddy riverine odor that some are inclined to do. Great chow, although I personally would have preferred the fish steamed in a clear sauce.

The bill came up to about RM110, for 6 adults and 3½ children, which I thought was inordinately reasonable.

On another note, I had some extra pastry and apple pie filling so I decided to experiment making an individual small pie in a stainless steel pudding dish. All that was missing was a scoop of Haagen Dazs Vanilla Ice Cream. If haagen dazs is good enough for Nigella, it's good enough for me.

Father's Day @ Chinoz On The Park

It's surprisingly pleasant to while away an afternoon at Chinoz on the Park, and it was on this premise that sis organised Father's day's lunch to be at this particular venue. The scenes that flash before our eyes reminds me of Louis Armstrong's It's A Wonderful World....I see trees of green, skies of blue, ...and definitely we hear babies cry.


I am a sucker for mushroom soup. There is something about it that makes me want to order it. Comfort food I suppose. The chinoz one is up to standard, no complaints. Thick and mushroomy, if not a bit cold. I like piping hot soups, but they seem to be rare, except in chinese coffee shops. Wonder why that is? Maybe the fear of legal suits of from people scalding their tongues.

I'm not sure what this is, but if I'm not mistaken, its a lobster sushi. Looks divine, and apparently tasted so as well.

Sis and hubby had the soft shell crab maki, which also looked very good. This is something I also always order in Zipangu, but didn't feel like sushi-ing on a Saturday afternoon, also, I think the after effects from a Sake Sashimi party was still lingering in my blood stream like a bad experience with a hooker during the war.

Aphrodisiacs for an afternoon session? Seems a bit criminal to waste so much ice for that measly half dozen of oysters. With our polar ice caps melting away, one should do more to conserve ice. Speaking of ice, what IS it with ICE IN URINALS? Can anyone shed light on this phenomena? (For the benefit of our non urinal going folk, some establishments have heaped ice cubes in the urinal). Is it to provide a cold draft to cool down the heated appendage? Or is it to dilute the smell of the pee?

Moving on, wife's chicken and mushroom pie surprisingly came very quickly. Usually they say, oh, this takes 25 minutes, like it's been made from scratch, kinda thing.

The chicken pie filling is delectable. Not overly stuffed with potatoes and fillers. I love the mushrooms accompanying the pie. Oh, the reason I had a taste was wife passed some to me.

I hardly EVER order chicken, because mentally, I think of chicken as "cheap", and somehow doesn't justify RM38, but there are times, when only the most familiar of meats will do, and since it said FREE RANGE CHICKEN THIGH, (if it had been breast, I'd have tossed out the order faster that you can cluck), I decided to go for it. And no regrets. The chicken was succulent, tender yet firm, (those battery chickens sometimes have such horribly soft meat, and some kampung chickens must have been muay thai fighters, all lean and sinewy, and tough as hell), well marinated and well roasted, and the bed of mash it lay on was divine.

Someone's Caesar Salad. I think I am completely off Caesar Salads these days, for whatever reason.

Parents shared this Mussel err...what's that pasta called? Looked nice and tomatoey. The article on Kylie Kwong seemed to imply that Spaghetti Bolognaise originated from China. Is that true?

And finally, to cap off a lovely luncheon, my favourite Black Sesame Ice cream. In order of the best black sesame I've ever had, it would be no1. Isthmus, Northpoint, no 2. Zipangu, 3. Chinoz.
Still good, although ranked no 3.

Happy Belated Father's Day to all the Fathers out there.

Popiah 2008

Every four years, Godma (as in the kids' Godma) hosts a Popiah Party. Why four years? Because, according to her, there is so much work involved, so much so she takes a day to shop and chop, a day to cook and host, and a day to rest. So, unless there is some luminary in town, (usually either Woman I am Scared Of, GMO Lawyer, or His Royal Highness King of the Chinese in Melbourne), we usually just have to wait patiently for that precious invite. In her heyday, perhaps we had it once in two years, but NOW, it's once in FOUR. Heck, another 8 more popiah sessions and we might be dead. Afterall, the average lifespan of the Malaysian Male is 72, by the eighth popiah session from this year, I'd be 73.

Why so rare? Afterall, people sell popiah everyday. When you are a perfectionist, a Bree Van De Kamp, popiah preparation can be exhausting. Peeling off the beansprout root, (WHO DOES THAT THESE DAYS!!!???), the chopping of the garlic to standard sizes, the grinding of chillis with a pestle and mortar, the slow deep frying of the garlic to get it just right, etc etc etc.....GOSH, if it were me, and I had to keep to those exacting standards, I won't even host it once a decade.

Once the announcement has been made, for that hallowed date, then speculation begins. Who are on the guest list? You can be pretty sure who definitely are, but there are some lacunas... so best not to ask, and be surprised on the day itself.







The condiments, deep fried garlic, the hoisin sauce, the very potent homemade chilli sauce, and the deep fried dried shrimp

And I think the turnip was manually sliced....coz apparently a grater makes it soggy. Brrrr, can you imagine slicing turnip and making sure the size is uniform? Tenderly and lovingly cooked in a superior mushroom stock, the turnip (sar kot) is good enough to be eaten on its own.


The vegetables, and the peeled bean sprouts. You will never see peeled bean sprouts when I cook!!!






The stuff for the filling; shredded free range chicken, french beans, taufu (look at how uniformly they're chopped, you'd think she used a ruler to measure each one), and omelette.


In addition, there's her trademark scallop congee, comfort food at its best. I really believe that food made out of love tastes better. (than those without).


A piled roll waiting to be rolled. Once rolled, however, I could no longer take a picture because I was too busy tucking into it.


Altogether, I had 4 popiahs. In our heydays, I think I could scarf down 5 or 6. But anyway, she had also run out of chicken. The chilli paste was ABSOLUTELY divine.




For dessert, I contributed my usual, and by the looks of it, this is my Cake Du Jour or Cake Du Month. Pear and Ginger Upside Down Pudding. With a large dollop of Bulla's 45% Milk Fat Pure Cream, it really is a slice of heaven, if I may say so myself.

So, until THIS event below, I guess we won't be having the legendary popiah party again .... unless WIASO or GMO lawyer manages to wrangle a Winter Olympics popiah party....

Yogging In Yogyakarta

How sweet of Kenny Mah to actually miss my posts....awwww. For that you deserve first line mention.

After the holiday in Camerons with the kids, I needed an adult only holiday, so we were off, just the wife and me, to Yogyakarta, because 1. we wanted to see the Borobodur, (or rather, I wanted to see), 2. it was cheaper than our cuti cuti Malaysia, including the beautiful hotel we booked 3. I was tired of driving, so needed to take a plane.

Our Air Asia flight was delayed for 1.5 hours, and the notification sms came a BIT too late. We were already halfway to the airport. Anyway, I figured it shouldn't be too hard to kill 1.5 hours, mingling with the rakyat, jostling at the Lousy Cheap Cheap Terminal, (LCCT), like we were catching the last helicopter out of Saigon during the fall of Saigon....(Images of me pressing my nose against the barbed wire fence calling out to an imaginary marine spouse come to mind...do they have mariness?)

Twas easy enough, doing the things I normally do to kill time, read the papers, check email (thanks to the wi-fi at Coffee Bean, which was as stable as those old Thai military governments that could be toppled overnight by a coup). I love the RM8 nasi lemak on the flight, but they really are scimping on the rice. Increasing rice& fuel prices must have been the reason. It was like curry chicken with a hint of nasi lemak. As the clouds broke, I could see the city beneath us.

Although timewise, they are behind us, ie, our 1pm is their 12 noon, it gets dark by 6pm, so by the time we got in, it was dark. Dark as it may be, nothing seems brighter than a nice hotel, an executive king room, (like a junior suite), and the trappings that say, "you're in a nice hotel".


Clockwise from left, the bedroom, the living room, the hotel's lounge area, and the toiletries

A fruit platter with pastries to greet us in our room

After settling in, we decided to plunge back into reality, and grabbed a trishaw, (but a hotel trishaw...which I later on discovered, on our last day, cost 4 times more than the normal ones you hail off the street) and did a preliminary recce of the town. The main shopping street, Malioboro, is decked with banners and buntings of J.Co Donuts, with a queue similar to that in Pavilion, if not longer. Horse carriages and trishaws are the main form of public transport. Our 2 hour town ride, plus visits to endless batik shops and t-shirt shops, insisted by the beca (trishaw) driver, cost us RM7-00. Despite the inflationary hotel beca prices. Well, live and let live la. Those beca fellas certainly do not need any Spinning Classes.

One of the specialties of Yogyakarta (of course my first question to the concierge was what is their famous food) is Gudeg, young jackfruit cooked in numerous ways. Below is an example of the one served at the hotel buffet breakfast.

While the buffet breakfast itself is nothing to shout about, I do love the presentations. Jam in a treasure chest. Honey from a honey comb. Nice hor.

And there's a lady concocting all kinds of jamu. I always thought jamu was meant for women who had just given birth, to ahem, tighten back any parts that may have gotten loose in the process of delivery. Oh oh oh, talking about that, I have to mention the Javanese Bridal Spa Treatment.

It entails the burning of a special incense to clean the genitalia, and to remove any unpleasant odors emanating from the ahem ahem....if you have one, that is. (note, BRIDAL spa)....dont believe me? Here's the menu. (children under 18, close your eyes)

The Jamu Woman


The Corridors of the Hotel

As I said, I am amazed how many people have never heard of the Borobodur, apparently the largest Buddhist temple in the world. It's quite amazing, this humungous structure in the middle of nowhere, in tribute to Buddhism.

I am completely STUPA-fied








And considering its age, its remarkably well preserved. Unlike some of my friends. I shall not elaborate on its history, as this is a food blog.

The other fascinating tourist attraction is the Hindu Temple of Prambanan. Partially destroyed in the 2006 earthquake, it is now closed to tourist for closer inspection, but you can still walk around its perimeter, and have a good view.

Don't you think Prambanan looks so mythical? Reminds me of a story of a city that just arose from the seabed.

Some of the foodstuff along the way. If by myself, I probably would have sampled some, but my travelling companion is more wary, and I guess it is harder for a woman to find a loo in case of diarrhoea, whereas men can just plonk it anywhere.

I thought the fried quail looked rather good actually.

With all due respect to our Visit Malaysia Year, actually historically and culturally, I think we kinda pale in comparison. The pic below is their Water Castle, which happened to be closed for cleaning, but filled with water, it is almost kinda reminiscent of a roman bath. Built for the sultan, of course....and the whole complex has underground tunnels that lead to the sea, 27km long, underground mosque, ....large citadels...how fascinating is THAT!

Not Roman, but Yogyakartan



Myriad underground walkways

Unlike Bali, Yogya isn't one big tourist trap, and as such, doesnt really cater for our delicate palates. Either you have the stomach for the local gudegs and nasi padangs, OR, end up eating at the hotel, like unadventurous, spoilt, pampered western tourist.

My prawn bisque soup was excellent. The breads that accompanied the meal were good too. Below is wife's hot and sour soup, which was also not bad.

For the mains, I had the Duck Magret Yogyakarta, supposedly their specialty. I'd say this was a Michelin star rated meal. The duck was tough and rubbery as Michelin tyres! Perhaps it was in the way they sliced it. Large chunks that would choke Linda Lovelace. However the accompanying vegetables and mash were good.

The hotel Grand Mercure by night


And by day

On Day 3, (gosh, is it as tiresome reading this as writing it?) we visited the Kraton, aka the Palace. Interestingly, the Sultan of Yogya is now the governor. Another interesting fact is he has no male heir, and though he could take on 3 more wives, his current wife is a smart intelligent woman, an MP even, who will not entertain the idea, according to our guide, who resembled Linda Hunt. A short forceful speaking lady, .... yeah, I really kept thinking of Linda Hunt.

For dinner, we decided to try the Nyonya Joint across the road from the hotel, TIGA NYONYA. Lovely ambience.

My fresh soursop juice. Yummy.

Lumpia something something. Lumpia must be springroll. Aren't I brilliant.




Soft Shell Crab deep fried with Salted Egg Yolk....not bad, but not as egg yolky as our usual ham dan hai here.


Some rojak dish. Nothing to shout about. The other dish, no photo, is their bakso, which are basically beefballs in soup.







Lots of affordable riverside properties in Yogya.

Anyway, gosh, that was long. Yeah, unlike Bali, Yogya probably is more representative of the real Indonesia. A great majority of them are fairly liberal and broadminded, for example, you get Muslims who sell (and make) statues of Buddha, and it's not uncommon to see statues of the Virgin Mary plonked against a picture of Quranic Verses. The wayang kulit is alive and well, and as the artisan told me, in Indonesia, Budaya (culture) and Agama (religion) are held in equal esteem.