Say (Feta) Cheese! -Eating in Greece

Have you ever had that feeling of just utter bliss and awe, mixed with a little sense of incredulity that such bliss and awe can exist?

I felt exactly that in Greece, watching the sun set over the horizon in Oia. We were freezing our asses off (yes, despite the sun. A case of extremely strong sea breezes, high altitudes, and over-optimistic clothing), wondering why the sun refused to set when it was already 730pm. Yet at the same time, not really caring that it's not setting yet, because the scene before us was just too beautiful. The sea, a few hundred feet below us, was so so blue, fading up into the skies, and that little glowing bubble of a sun was bathing everything in its rosy rays. And then I felt it again, standing at the top of the volcano in Santorini, watching the vast expanse of sea/sky and majestic islands stretch across my eyes. And then again, as I breathed in the salty-sweet air and felt the fine licorice-coloured sand between my aching toes at the black beach, though I may have been slightly disoriented after trekking more than 10km up and down the roads of Santorini following the crazy advice of the hostel owner.

All that worked up a giant appetite. We were two very hungry tiny asian girls in Greece.

Gyros/souvlaki, ultimate Greek fast food. Chunks of fatty lamb shaved off a rotating slab, topped with oily fries and wrapped in a toasted pita. Not my usual kind of food, but there's always an occasional place for artery-clogging yum in a healthy diet. Stressing about

"unhealthy" food is more unhealthy than just eating it.

Greece has a fabulous variety of appetisers/sides for sharing, much like the tapas of Spain, or the dimsum of Hong Kong, just that they were called mezze. Just for starters, we had

dolmades (stuffed vine leaves), tzatziki (cucumber yogurt dip), fried marrow balls, baked aubergine with tomato, horta (sauteed wild greens), the greek salad (see feta slab)

baked aubergine dish again, this time with sweet feta, and mini spanakopitas

large spankopita (spinach and feta pie)

fried Santorini tomato balls, fava dip

Looks pretty impressive, but often the dishes were really simple, giving attention to the ingredient itself, with nothing more than (lots of) Greek olive oil, herbs, and a squeeze of lemon to bring out the natural fresh flavours.

On the island of Paros, traditionally a fishing town, we of course had to order grilled seafood. At one place, the owner came out with the catch of the day on a plate, the mackerel still smooth and shiny and its eyes wide and glossy, for us to approve of its freshness. Without doubt, it was delicious later.

Mackerel, simply grilled with the aforementioned essentials, evoo/lemon/parsley.

More seafood! Shrimp and mussel saganaki, grilled octopus (I ate this for you, Susan :p ).

Aubergine (i.e. eggplant) was huge in Greece, I've had more eggplant the past week than I have had in a month, or months really, since the past wintry months haven't been the right time to find aubergines in the farmers' market. Everyone knows the Greek national dish, the signature moussaka, but there was also this amazing dish of aubergine rolls that can only be described as "wow".

Aubergine, stuffed with feta and herbs, fried in a light batter, then smothered with a rich tomato gravy and baked so the flavours and textures all melded together wonderfully

It was called 'Mama Mia'! Mama was a character herself, radiating warmth and cheekiness, exclaiming over every customer (all the ladies were "sex bombs", all the men were "my love"), much like a proud mama welcoming guests into her home. It was hard not to fall in love with her and her food. Actually, its hard not to fall in love with Greece herself. The gorgeous sights, the culture, the atmosphere, the combination of good food and greedy, giggly company.

Rice-stuffed roast peppers and tomatoes

Now stuffed and back in London, I'm already wondering where the sun went ):

General news: I'm killing mummyicancook's facebook page after my one week trial. Too much work for too few fans, sadly. Keeping twitter because it's, scarily, quite a lot of addictive, time-wasting fun.

Quinoa Tabouli, and Going Over to the Dark Side

Technology doesn't like me, and the feeling is mutual. I took the longest time to be persuaded to get facebook for myself back in school when everyone had it already. It was a miracle I started blogging. And for the longest time, I've resisted getting twitter (Why would anyone care what I'm doing at this minute? Why's there a word limit? What's a #? Cute bird I guess.)

I don't know why, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to hate it, but I've gone over to the dark side. If anyone would like to follow me (as in Mummy, I can cook) on facebook or twitter, please do.

I'm also going over to the much brighter Greece next week, so there will be no news from me for a week on the blog. Oh, and facebook and twitter. I'm starting to question my decision already. Onto happier thoughts, I'm really excited to get a much-needed break after a crazy school term, and in sunny Greece with her gorgeous beaches and fascinating history and most of all, her food. I've already done my research i.e. highlighted the signature Greek dishes, chowhoundedthe must-eat places, and annotated, circled and double-underlined the foods I want to eat.

Here's a little bit of Greece before I fly. Tabouli is usually made with bulgur wheat, but I don't have that, so I used quinoa instead. It's has similar tiny fluffy nutty grains, while being gluten-free and incredibly high in everything good for you (though with all whole grains, do soak to ease digestion). Don't dismiss it as some yucky health food store "thing"; it has a delicious nutty flavour and I also use it as an alternative to couscous for moroccan-style food.

Quinoa Tabouli

serves 4-6 as a mezze

Ingredients

1/4 cup uncooked quinoa (rinsed and preferably soaked for a few hours)

3 large handfuls of parsley

1 handful of mint

2 stalks spring onions (or 1/2 a red onion, but an asian kitchen = spring onions)

1 large tomato*

4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

juice of 1 lemon

unrefined sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, to taste

*At Pimlico farmer's market, we have organic tomatoes from The Tomato Stall, pretty much throughout the year. I don't know how they do it, I think it's some greenhouse technology, coupled with apparently really good weather at the Isle of Wight. But I find the tomatoes have only started becoming sweeter and juicier this past week, hurrah!

Method

1. First, cook the quinoa. I like to saute the grains in a little oil first to release its nutty flavour before adding water, bringing to a boil, and letting it simmer till just cooked, about 10 min +/-. To keep it light and 'al dente', I typically add less than twice the amount of quinoa, especially since I also soak it. Fluff and leave to cool.

2. Then prepare the rest of the salad by chopping the vegetables and herbs up finely.

3. Combine evoo, lemon, salt and pepper, and mix with everything else.

That's it! Super easy and refreshing, you can mix up a larger batch at a go and chuck it in the fridge, having it whenever you want to feel virtuous. You'll notice there's very little quinoa in this, but I read that authentic tabouli is like that, very much a refreshing salad on a hot day, and a very light side to accompany heavier mains. It's a burst of green freshness after what seems like forever on the root vegetable front. Here's to the sun!

Soto Ayam, Malay Chicken Soup (for the Soul)

When you get showers one day, sun the next, winds on another, you know the seasons are changing. Then again, that's possibly the case for London all year round. The fickle weather gives us all something in common, aside from the economy and the Olympics, to whine about at least. But also with the changing seasons, comes the snotty noses and sore throats. When I'm down with a bout of flu, or when I just need a little boost of immunity to soothe my paranoia, or even when I'm just after a comforting bowl of warmth, there's nothing like chicken soup.

The power of "Grandma's chicken soup" is not just a placebo effect. I've written about making homemade stock/bone broths before, how the slow-cooking of meat and bones draws out both delicious flavour and health-giving nutrients. Every culture has their own version of chicken soup, and back in Singapore, the Malays have their chicken soup infused with fragrant herbs and spices. Soto ayam, or mee soto (i.e. with noodles), was always a simple favourite from the school canteen in primary school.

Malay Spiced Chicken Soup (Soto Ayam)

recipe adapted from the brilliant 3hungrytummies

makes enough stock for 2-3 servings

Ingredients

1 large free-range pastured chicken carcass (you can use a whole chicken and double the ingredients, but this is even more so frugal)

2 litres of water

1 large onion, minced

1 cinnamon stick

4 cloves

2 star anise

1 bay leaf

1 lemongrass, bashed

unrefined sea salt, to taste

for the spice mix

1" piece of ginger

4 cloves garlic

1 heaped tbsp coriander

1 tbsp cumin

1 tbsp turmeric

1 tbsp white peppercorns

to serve (basic version, read below for other toppings)

rice vermicelli, soaked in cold water for 15 min

shredded chicken from above

handful of beansprouts

fresh coriander leaves

crispy fried shallots

Method

1. Pound/blitz the ingredients for the spice mix together. Rub the chicken carcass with the spice mix.

2. Saute the onion till lightly browned, then add the chicken carcass, along with the rest of the ingredients. Add the water, bring to a boil, skim off any scum that rises to the top, and then let simmer for 2h on a low heat.

3. Remove the carcass, pick at the remaining cooked meat and shred. Strain the broth to remove the spices.

4. Blanch the rice vermicelli and beansprouts in boiling water very quickly (less than a min), dish into a bowl, and pour a ladle of hot chicken broth over. Top with the shredded chicken, coriander, and crispy fried shallots, and serve immediately, with some chilli on the side if desired.

Ah, chicken soup, soto ayam especially. It's also often had with pressed rice cakes lontong, hard-boiled eggs and potato croquettes bergedil, and topped with extra chilli paste. The simplest "school canteen" version is usually just like what I've done though; noodles, beansprouts, shredded chicken, a sparse sprig of coriander because the kids remove it anyway.

Just a whiff of the fragrant asian herbs and the musky depth and aroma of the spices nourishes the soul, but a slurp of it nourishes the body instantly. I love reading about traditional (food) therapy, and traditional chinese medicine suggest warming pungent foods in spring to get your qi and blood moving, so this is actually a delicious way to get your dose of medicine.

Mint and Mustard Meatballs (they're green!)

Cumin Mustard Meatballs with Mint Pesto

It's St Patrick's Day tomorrow, i.e. a day to get merry and celebrate all things Irish and green! I unfortunately don't have anything remarkably Irish to share. I remember making shepherd's pie last year, but even then, I added lots of masala spices and called it Indian shepherd's pie, a bastardisation yes, but still one of my most triumphant recipes. I do have something green though. And involving lamb. And a bit of an alliteration.

Cumin Mustard Meatballs

Ingredients

300g free-range minced lamb

1 small onion, minced

1 heaped tbsp dijon mustard

1 tsp ground cumin

1 tbsp gram flour (i.e. chickpea flour)

generous grind of unrefined sea salt and black pepper

a little ghee (or olive oil)

Method

1. Combine ingredients together, and mix till it forms a paste. Roll into little walnut-sized balls with wet hands.

2. Fry in ghee on a medium-hot pan, making sure to get a nice sear and caramelisation on the outside, then lower the heat, flipping/rolling the meatballs as they cook. If you don't want to give them so much attention, you can probably also chuck them into the oven for 15-20 min at 200 degrees celsius.

Mint Pesto (no cheese)

Ingredients

2 large handfuls of mint leaves

1 small handful of toasted almonds (or pine nuts, more expensive)

2 cloves garlic

generous pinch of unrefined sea salt, freshly ground black pepper

your favourite extra virgin olive oil

squeeze of lemon

1. Combine all the ingredients except lemon in the food processor, adding the evoo as you g, enough to make a smooth paste. Finish with a squeeze of lemon. You can also do it by hand if you're enthusiastic.

2. This will keep in the fridge for a couple of days if submerged under oil, and is brilliant to dress salads or goat's cheese or as the finishing touch to soups/pastas/risotto or just with good bread.

I know they aren't perfectly and beautifully spherical, but they don't have to be; they're rough and homemade and yummy anyway. These aren't the traditional Italian meatballs that everyone associates meatballs with, made with eggs and breadcrumbs and slowly simmered in tomato sauce; think Indian kofta meatballs, bound instead with chickpea flour and with a hint of aromatic cumin. Cumin and mint go really well together, I first tried this combination with fresh peas; it was a total revelation, and I now find it almost natural to reach for cumin when I use mint. I really liked the tangy heat that mustard added, so now I may just add that to the equation too!

Happy St Patrick's Day, and Happy Mothering Sunday too (in Singapore we celebrate Mother's Day in May, but hello mummy anyway if you're reading this) !

Blue Eggs and Purple Broccoli

I did this for next month's East End Life newsletter, and thought it would be fun to share here on the blog too. This one was a feature on Animal Farm, a brilliant mixed-livestock farm set in the rolling hills of Bellingdon. They do excellent meat (wild boar, rare breed beef, sheep etc.), and they also rear many different varieties of free-range poultry so you can usually find a mix of gorgeous duck eggs, glossy deep brown eggs from Burford Brown hens, and delightfully pale blue-tinted Cotswold Legbar eggs!

As much as I love my omelettes and fancy frittatas, I felt I would be somewhat letting the chickens down if I just break their beautiful golden yolks up, so I decided to lightly boil them and appreciate the delicious subtle flavour differences among the different eggs.

Soft-Boiled Eggs with Sesame Roasted Broccoli Soldiers

Ingredients

3-4 large free-range eggs, a mix

1 large handful of purple sprouting broccoli

1 tsp good soy sauce (traditionally fermented, I used tamari here)

1/2 tsp toasted sesame oil

1 tsp sesame seeds

extra virgin olive oil, enough to coat

Method

1. For the soft-boiled eggs, put room temperature eggs in a single layer in a saucepan with enough cold water to cover. Bring to a boil over high heat, and once boiling, take off the heat and let sit in the hot water for 4 min exactly. Immediately remove to a bowl of ice-cold water, to stop the cooking. (See here for how to boil eggs.)

2. Break the broccoli into roughly equal stalks. Toss with rest of ingredients except sesame seeds. Spread in an even layer on a greased baking tray.

3. Roast for about 10-15 min at 180 degrees celsius or till lightly browned at the edges. Scatter sesame seeds over to toast about 5 min towards the end.

This is actually an old recipe, I did it almost exactly a year ago, with normal broccoli, but tis' the season for purple sprouting broccoli! It's one of the simple favourites I return to. Sometimes I have the soft-boiled egg with sourdough toast soldiers, sometimes with seasonal vegetable soldiers; either way, you can't go wrong with oozy golden yolk from a happy hen!

Jasmine Rice Pudding with Poached Rhubarb

In the farmers' market right now, and quite likely in the shops pretty soon, are the gorgeous rosy pink stalks of the first of rhubarb. It's the one other thing besides purple sprouting broccoli that's in season in this lull between winter and spring.

This rhubarb is 'forced', which sounds kind of bad, but actually just mean they are grown in darkened sheds. They are actually more succulent and prettier than the sturdier outdoor-grown mottled green stalks. Before coming to Londom, I've never seen rhubarb or even heard of them, let alone taste them, and my first try eating them plainly cooked (sans sweetener) left my mouth puckered at its sourness. But subsequent attempts roasting or poaching them with some sugar or honey changed my mind and I'm in love with this sour fruit-vegetable.

Since the cold winds and rain have returned after a week of surprisingly sunny weather, I'm not going to do anything involving sorbets or jelly, nor strawberries (oh when will you arrive?). Rice is my ultimate comfort food, whether for savoury or sweet. I don't buy pudding rice; I simply use jasmine rice, cooked much like congee, but with a rich stir of thick coconut milk instead of milk, much like I do for traditional black sticky rice pudding. I know the traditional british rice pudding is baked in the oven and has a 'skin' on top; I do't know about you but I really, don't fancy skin.

Coconut Jasmine Rice Pudding
serves 2 greedy people, or up to 4
Ingredients
1/2 cup jasmine rice, rinsed twice and drained
1 cup water
1 cup coconut milk
1/2 cup coconut cream (i.e. the thick portion floating on top)
1 cinnamon stick
pinch of unrefined sea salt

Method
1. In a saucepan, combine rice with water, coconut milk, cinnamon and salt. Bring to a boil over medium high heat. Reduce heat to low and let simmer, stirring occasionally for 30 minutes, till it's cooked to a soft creamy consistency.
2.Remove from heat, before stirring in the coconut cream and let cool, or you can chill extra in the fridge for a cold pudding.

Poached Rhubarb with Ginger

1 pound rhubarb stalks

250ml water

1 thumb-sized piece of ginger

3-4 tbsp unrefined cane sugar

Method

1. Bring sugar, water and ginger to a simmer in a wide pan, till sugar dissolves.

2. Trim and cut rhubarb stalks into 1" long pieces and add to the ginger syrup. Bring to a simmer again, for just another 1-2 minutes. You want the rhubarb tender but not falling apart into a compote/mush.

3. Serve warm, or cool if you like, with the rice pudding, and you can also keep the extra in the fridge to top porridge or pancakes (sourdough crepes!) or plain Greek yogurt.

A scoop of creamy pudding with the faint fragrance of jasmine rice, the richness of coconut milk, and the sweet-sharpness of rhubarb,with just that little heat from the ginger, was all I needed on that cold rainy day. Oh, and a big warm fluffy pillow, and the temporary make-belief that I had no schoolwork due. Ah, bliss.

I'm submitting this to the One Ingredient (Rhubarb) Challenge hosted by Working London Mummy this month, and How to Cook Good Food on alternate months!

Steamed Whole Flounder (the sizzling Cantonese way)

Whole fish with partially broken tail (see point 4 below)

Just finished a design brief for school which included drawing, in near-microscopic detail, a whole lot of fishes. I see scales and gills and fins everywhere now.

On the bright side, I can properly tell a plaice from a dover sole from a lemon sole and flounders. They are all British flatfishes, with both eyes on one side which makes them look quite odd, and eating-wise, they all have a similar delicate flaky texture. Whether they are more oval or diamond-shaped, or whether they have spots etc help tell them apart, though frankly, the price is the best way to tell them apart. This is why I say, skip the plaice and dover soles, and go for the lemon soles (actually not a sole but a winter flounder) and flounders! A flounder is not only a cheaper option, but also a more sustainable option, and frankly, pretty similar taste and texture-wise. At £5/kg, this freshly caught flounder that I got from Pimlico farmers' market was a bargain!

I steamed the whole fish Cantonese-style, i.e. with hot oil poured over after the fish is steamed; you'll get what I mean by sizzling when you watch the video! (Er it's only 2 seconds but I couldn't resist recording the sound hah.) This step is not just for fun, it's what elevates the dish!

Cantonese-Style Steamed Whole Flounder

serves 2 as a side

Ingredients

1 whole flounder, about 400g

1 tsp unrefined sea salt

1" ginger, finely sliced

1 stalks spring onion, finely shredded

(opt) 1 red chilli, finely sliced

1 tbsp Shaoxing rice wine

3 tbsp good soy sauce (traditionally brewed and fermented)

1 tbsp mix of toasted sesame oil + 1 tbsp groundnut oil

handful of chopped coriander leaves

Method

1. Wash fish and pat dry, then rub evenly with salt and rice wine. Place fish over two chopsticks set over a plate. This will make for more even cooking.

2. Set up a steamer by putting a rack into a wok/pot over boiling water, and set the plate of fish on the rack (make sure it doesn't touch the water). Steam over high heat until just cooked, about 12 min for mine.

3. Carefully transfer the cooked fish to a new plate. You don't want the old plate and the fishy cooking liquid.

4. Scatter the spring onions, chilli and ginger over, then drizzle over the soy sauce.

5. Heat the oil in a pan until smoking, then immediately pour over the fish. Garnish with coriander, and serve straight away with rice.

The fine, flaky flesh of the flounder is really suited to this delicate steaming method. Soy sauce, ginger, spring onions, are all very simple chinese-cooking essentials, but they all come together brilliantly with the fish, and the final step of sizzling hot sesame oil just adds the final flourish. Keeping the fish on the bone also helps to keep it extra moist and tender, much like how meat kept on the bone is juicier. I know it freaks some people out, but growing up in a Chinese household, a whole steamed fish makes quite a common appearance on the dinner table. I tend to relish seeing the head and tail with my fish.

My food in print (:

East End Life Newsletter (Feb 2012)

See recipe for Scottish Shepherd's Pie (Haggis Pie with Swede Crust)

Flavour Magazine (Feb 2012)

See recipe for Steamed Cabbage Dim Sum Dumplings

I've been doing a lot of "I'm 21 years old oh my god" moaning recently. I'm at the stage where I start worrying about my future and what I want to do with my life when I graduate. When I'm not thinking about food, I think about graphic design at central saint martins, and I've still got more than a year to go in my degree and to continue thinking. I do know I want to do something related to food. What that is exactly, I have no idea. But I'm happy anyway to be doing a bit of food writing for now- not paid, but it's exciting to see my food in print, and it helps generate publicity for the farmers' market. Just wanted to share this with all you lovely people who read this space (: