September 2016

This dinner marks the end of an era because when we were in IKEA the next day, Scott realized that he didn't really like eating on purple plates anymore and decided to buy a set of off-white tableware. We had a juicy beef burger and shortbread for dessert that evening. For the patties: minced beef, chopped red onions, an egg. We used walnut bread which we got from a bakery in the basement of Takashimaya and dressed the burger with some lettuce, tomatoes, and cheddar.

Making a mess with his IKEA hotdog

In a world where rampant consumerism is the norm, choosing a frugal lifestyle can sometimes mean living as an outcast. Apart from being scrooges when it comes to leeks, Scott and I aren't in the habit of spending ridiculous amounts of money on eggs and coffee. Although we admittedly had brunch after our yoga class last Saturday and cannot resist the Torta de Garbanzo from Super Loco, which according to Scott is the shrödinger's cat of sandwiches.

We be brunchin' (2017, OverEasy) 

Scotty and his Torta de Garbanzo

Here's what he had to say about the Torta de Garbanzo when we went there in early September:

On a weekend morning I often get a craving for what can only be described as one of the most transcendental sandwich experiences available on this little red dot or on the wider blue dot that surrounds it (Ie: it's a pretty damn good sandwich)

I've probably had six of these sandwiches in the last six months and here's the gripe. Whilst the ideal of this sandwich is excellence, the inconsistency of formation unsettles me. I've been served two different kinds of bread, three different kinds of chickpea fritter, pickles, no pickles, and any number of different sauces, pastes, and other assorted moistening agents. I never know what I'm gonna get. Whilst some variation is ok, valued even, the core constituents of the sandwich should be consistent. Ie: where the hell are my pickles?

Yesterday I made the happy stroll down to Super Loco to enjoy this public holiday weekend with an iced latte and the aforementioned sandwich. Ordered, I sit there anxious, nervous at what creation will come to me this time. The man comes. It looks reasonable. The plantain chips that usually come on the side have been replaced with tortilla chips; a letdown but I'm gonna concentrate on the sandwich. I lift the lid, the fritter is in its usual awkward shapes and the sauces look different to those previously encountered. But none of these things disturb me as much as the lack of damn pickles. Where are my pickles?! I call the man. I ask, "where are the pickles? This sandwich usually comes with pickles." "No, it don't," comes a response. "Yes it does," I've ordered this sandwich many times, it's written on the menu. "Please can you bring me some pickles," I ask. "Lemme go check." After a couple of minutes, he comes back with a little ramekin full of the missing pickles. A little bit of construction later and we're ready to go. Delicious.

So here's my bugbear. You guys have come up with one of the greatest sandwiches ever conceived. On its day, the bread is soft yet doesn't crumble; the textures within range from creamy, mushy, toothsome, and crunchy (my missing plantain chips); and the flavours spicy but not eye-watering, salivating but not salty, and with the fragrancy of a sexy Mexican woman who has just finished eating. Usually however you might get one or two of these things. I'm never sure whether I'm going to be happy or sad when the plate arrives. Sometimes I question if I should stop ordering the sandwich so it can live on in that perfect conceptual state and not experience the finality that opening the box reveals. TL;DR - please provide checklist to your sandwich artists: chickpea fritter, salad, pickled cactus, chimichurri mayo, plantain chips.

Anyway, instead of brunchin' at some hipster cafe, we usually roll around in bed for three hours. I wake up around 7AM regardless of my bedtime the previous night, so I usually wedge my head in Scott's armpit or breathe down the back of his neck/in his face (depending on his sleeping position), till he gets irritated with me and wakes up. Then we get out of bed to cook eggs.

Not yet.

Not yet.

Not yet.

Note yet.

Not yet.

EAT ME NOW!

Too late.

- Avocados

Lentil stew is the perfect meal when you're on an unpaid internship abroad because it is cheap, easy, and filling. I ate this almost everyday when I was in Antwerp. The basic ingredients: onions, carrots, lentils, turmeric powder, tomato paste. I'd also throw in huge chunks of feta cheese because it was so cheap if you bought it from the Turkish supermarket. Sometimes I'd add lamb if I were feeling rich. Or faint and malnourished. Scott wasn't very impressed by this dish. Lol. Now we have a big bag of lentils sitting in the cupboard.

We were supposed to cook but I ended up working a bit late so Scott got Chinese takeout for dinner. Because Scott is like, tall and has a beard. Like, a man. I always assume he wants to eat a big piece of steak. Because, you know, he's tall and has a beard. Like, a man. But breaking the stereotype, he usually asks for braised tofu and fish porridge, which is very adorable. And duh some roast duck. Cuz, tall and beard. Man.

Eggs and avocados and whatever vegetables we could find in the fridge.

Eggs and avocados and whatever vegetables we could find in the fridge again. I used to hate buying avocados because I'd buy them and then have to wait a week for them to ripen. Only to cut them open and find that they've gone rogue. So annoying. Anyway, we were quite lucky with the bag we bought, but they started going a bit brown towards the end, which is why we mushed the last avocado. For some bizarre reason, Scott didn't try to pass it through the sieve. PSA - avocado with a spritz of lemon, salt and chilli flakes is the way to go.

July 2016

Scott got his flatmate a cookbook by Ferran Adria for Christmas the year before to encourage him to cook more often. Lucky for us, his flatmate kept it out in the living room so we were able to use it too. Scott and I took turns picking a random number between 1 and 31 (there are 31 meals within the book). Then we'd flip to the corresponding meal in the book and try to make it happen.

I found the book to be super helpful because each recipe is generously accompanied with step-by-step photographs, which gives kitchen rookies like myself a better idea of how everything is supposed to look as its all coming together.

Meal #17: baked potatoes with romesco sauce, whiting in salsa verde, and rice pudding. OK, so maybe we only followed the 'baked potatoes' and 'fish' part of the recipe and made everything else up. This was when I first took notice of Scott's compulsion to puree things through a sieve, which I wrote off as dedication initially but then later realized was an obsession. During this time, I also realized that Scotty likes to put chopped spring onions on errrrthang. He's so funny. Everything started making more sense, like how he always, always leaves the supermarket with a bag of spring onions.

Meal #3: vichyssoise, lamb with mustard and mint, and chocolate truffles. There was no chance we were making the cold leek and potato soup, so we made lamb stew with mashed potatoes instead. Scott's insistence on pushing boiled potatoes through a sieve amused me to no end. This was when his particularity about taste, texture, and presentation came to light. But 45 minutes, an aching arm, and lots of sweat later, we had the creamiest mash! A few weeks after this incident we went to Mustafa and bought a hand blender.

We ate the leftovers for breakfast the next morning (we do this a lot). Mixed some chopped vegetables into the mash and fried them like patties in the pan. Scott was still drinking a glass of milk in the mornings at this point... The pretty fuchsia mess is beetroot with a yogurt dressing to go with. My mum always nags at me to "eat the rainbow" to get me to include a variety of fruit and vegetables in my diet so that I get the different minerals and vitamins. Blue is a tough one for us. We eat blueberries and drink blue pea flower tea occasionally. Unfortunately, our blue pea plant (pictured right) isn't doing very well. Any ideas for eating blue?

We stopped using the cookbook soon after because a lot of the meals required like, 5 litres of romesco sauce, which we couldn't be bothered with.

Anyway, one thing I like about Scott is how whenever we go to Shirokiya, he always orders a dish of pickled Japanese cucumber with plum and bonito flakes without fail. [FYI: they moved from Cuppage to CHIJMES :'( ] You know how when you go out to dinner with friends and each person gets to pick a dish from the menu to share with everyone else? I'm the twit who'd order pickled cucumbers and get eye rolls from the rest of the table because not a lot of people can understand the logic of going to a restaurant and ordering a plate of cucumbers.

Anyway, we figured out how to recreate this dish at home. Basically, Japanese cucumbers, sour plum, bonito flakes, sesame seeds. Again, Scott insisted on putting the sour plum through a sieve to get the 'right texture.' But honestly, if you're not fussy and don't have the patience, mushing it with a fork will do the trick. We had it with roast pork - SO YUMMY. I don't really eat pork but I couldn't resist this one. I don't know how Scott did it. I guess on the pan? A bowl of edamame and soba with mushrooms topped with lots of spring onions.

We had banana pancakes one weekend!!!! I LOVE BANANA PANCAKES! Or rather, crepes with bananas on top. Staying true to the 'no measurements' policy we have in the kitchen, I did not know how much flour to put into the batter and ended up putting too much. Not sure if Scott is just not a fan of sweet stuff in the mornings or just not a fan of tough rubbery crepes in general.... We had this one time and then went back to having eggs and vegetables for breakfast.

Salmon omelette!! This was really yummy. Scott did all the chopping and cooking for this one while I pitted the cherries.

Scott made pasta from scratch one evening!!

Sweet potato fries, some vegetables, and fish, which we did two ways. One panfried on the stove with dressing (garlic, herbs, anchovies) on the side, the other we baked in the oven with the dressing. We both preferred the baked one because the raw dressing on the side was a bit overwhelming.

Such a good breakfast this was. Ok, backstory: Scott is quite frugal when it comes to grocery shopping. His shopping outlook is complementary to my mother's "a penny saved is a penny earned" philosophy that I was brought up under, so we are mostly agreeable on when we want to splurge and save. For example, Scott refuses to buy leeks in Singapore where they cost $20/kilo because he knows he can get them for $3/kilo back home. Fortunately, I do not like leeks that much so this hasn't been a source of friction between us. Anyway, I don't know how it happened, but we ended up paying $9 for a broccoli one day. Scott made damn sure we ate every bit of that broccoli =) We ate the head with our leftovers (kebabs from Sufi's at Arab Street) and cheddar cheese. And then the stem and whatever other little bits tossed in salt and olive oil.

Flatbread

I had a love-hate relationship with food while growing up. On a good day, I would only eat food that was prepared by myself or my mother. And even then, I always had a lingering suspicion that my mother was putting sugar and other stuff I did not want into my food. Even up till today, I'm notorious for bombarding her with my inquiries over the dinner table. (What's in this? Did you put soya sauce? Is there cornflour in the gravy? Is this a free-range chicken?) On a bad day, I would eat nothing but sweet potato or yam because I was terrified of refined carbs and sugar.

A few weeks back, I had to fill up a questionnaire for our corporate newsletter about healthy eating where I was prompted for some tips or 'rules' to help others sustain a healthy lifestyle. I giggled thinking back on the rules I'd previously subjected myself to: no carbs, no pork for blood type O, the caveman diet, vegetables only, vegetables and eggs only (I love eggs!), vegetables and eggs and tofu only, green tea and 300 kcal per day.

The rules turned eating - a joyful social activity - into a lonely struggle. Eating out became increasingly difficult, so I started eating at home more. And when tension escalated over the dinner table whenever I'd refuse to eat the food my mother had cooked, I ate alone. I wasn't able to abide by these rules for too long because they were extreme. I became lethargic and moody. And whenever I broke a rule, I would berate myself. So weak! No self-control! Disgusting! Not good enough!

It took me a long time to understand that the control I thought I had, I didn't really have. And even after that epiphany, it took an even longer time to get over the fears and re-establish a balanced relationship with food. But when I finally stopped withholding food from myself, I also stopped withholding love from myself and everything became infinitely better.

I'm glad that there are no more rules today, that I don't have to worry about being judged for eating "weird food," that mealtimes are no longer a great exercise in calculating calories, that I can reminisce on my tuberous roots days and laugh.

But if I had one rule - just one - it would be to eat everything in its natural form, nothing from cans or boxes where possible. (Unless you're making spaghetti bolognese. Then always get bottled tomato paste. And frozen peas in a bag - they're good too.) Processed/ready-to-eat food is one fear I haven't been able to rid myself of. And for good reason. 

Even apples that are too big and too red are scary too, because chemical preservatives and genetically-modified food seem unnatural and against the way of the universe. Scott says golden rice is good, though, because it is enriched with beta-carotene and has saved many lives especially the malnourished in the third world. I haven't read enough about it or thought of a good counter-argument, so my battle is currently against luncheon meat, gummy bears (although I loved them as a kid to the point where all my front teeth were rotten because I ate so much of them), crab sticks, canned sodas, and anything else that I can't really make out consists of what.

Just a word of caution about eating eggs out, always order them sunny-side up. Even though I know I'm eating an egg, some food establishments poach their eggs in advance, stick them in the fridge and then reheat them as and when they are required. And don't get me started on scrambled eggs and the possibility of making them from powdered eggs. Basically, trust nobody! Cook your own eggs! Cook your own meals!

Scotty made flatbread for breakfast one weekend

Adding some salt and herbs to our bread

Despite my many words denouncing processed food, we had our flatbread with chorizo and baked beans. Cheeky cheeky. Everything in moderation! Also on the plate is a fried egg and ribbons made from carrot and cucumber.

Even though dairy is not intended in nature to be human food - it is food for baby cow - and the stark fact that Scott is not a baby cow, he loves his milk and drinks it by the carton. We were only a couple of months into our relationship and it wasn't the right time for my inner control freak to shine, so I passively placed a glass of warm water with honey and lemon to his right. He drank both.