Bibendum’s Guide

What a better way to start this year’s blog with not only a facelift but also the newest addition to the restaurant recognition scene. The first Hong Kong/Macau Michelin Guide, given to me by my friend, Nicholas. [Thanks!]

The most sought after recognition for chefs. This little book may have ‘made’ many chefs, but broken a few as well. Apart from recognizing the efforts and consistency of the chefs, it increases the business level for them too, so I am told.

There is no denying this – for a chef to be awarded that elusive star would be just like winning the presidential election. There is no feeling like that in the world because you have been striving for what you believe in from the beginning of your career path, but it all comes with strings attached and it is in maintaining one’s ‘star’ when the actual stress and real hard work comes in.  To quote Gordon Ramsay, “People say three-star cooking is safe, but it isn’t. It’s the most dangerous thing I know.”

Taking a brief look, this world-famous Red Guide first came about in 1900 in France, when it was published for the sole purpose of offering a free guide to motorists for sights to see, lodging and restaurants during their cross-country motoring trips.

However in 1920, the guide was no longer given free, it was marketed and published a wide selection of hotels and restaurants. The selection was decided by a group of touring clubs and readers. 1926, the first Michelin Star was awarded to places where “one dines well”. This was promptly followed by the awarding of 2 and 3 stars.

It has come along long way since then after taking a break during the world war in 1939 and being revived in 1945. In the 1950s, the guide was expanded to countries out of France, such as Spain and Switzerland. To date, the Red Book with the famous Bibendum has made its way throughout major cities and countries in the world – Paris, Netherlands, Luxembourg, Germany, Spain & Portugal, Great Britain & Ireland, Italy, Las Vegas, New York, San Francisco, London, Switzerland and now, Tokyo, Hong Kong & Macau.

The Michelin Guide rates the starred restaurants by the number of stars obviously, from 1 star (a very good restaurant in its own category), 2 stars (excellent cuisine, worth a detour) & 3 stars (exceptional cuisine worth a special journey). The Red Guide also recognizes restaurants that serve good quality food at good prices (not higher than $300), known as Bib Gourmand. It is all about the food, if stars are awarded or not.

As they say, “Cuisines in any style of restaurant and of any nationality are eligible for a star. The decoration, service and comfort levels have no bearing on the award.” There are ratings for the comfort of the restaurants as well.

As the Red Guide has docked in Asia, we wonder the next destination it will be heading. To be honest, if it is going to be making its way back home (Singapore), then the self-proclaimed ‘celebrity chefs’ there should have a game plan of concentrating on the food and service rather than the strings attached to their egos.

Cooking Chart

This chart that I have come up with has actually been playing in my head for a couple of years now. It really was inspired a few years back when I was reading through an INICON PDF document, “An introduction to technological applications of Molecular Gastronomy” which was posted online. A very important read that really curved my culinary thinking and sight along with 3 other books from 2 different authors.

Taking the basic natural elements of Gas, Liquid and Solid, a table could be formed in which one could study the simple process of dispersion, applied correctly in food preparation.

Eg. Liquid + Gas = (gas dispersed into a liquid) / a thickened solution + nitrous oxide = a foam discharged from a cream siphon.

The possibilities are wide and only limited to tests and the imagination.

I am taking this applied concept and idea with the following table. This comprises multiple cooking processes. When we cook a veal cheek for example, we colour it, then submerge it into a flavoured solution and cooked till it is soft and tender (solid dispersed into a liquid).

Traditionally they say,
1.    Colour the meat so it does not give a pale finish. Caramelization.
2.    Cook in a stock so it gets a nice flavour.
3.    Cook till it gets really soft like butter.

Now to evaluate,

1.    This is obviously wrong; as we know that (in this case) to colour a piece of meat is for its flavour as it is released into the solution during the final cooking. The colouring is a result of the Maillard process. Browning has nothing to do with Caramelization. The Maillard process is the chemical reaction of meat turning brown, this occurs at any temperature. (Any increase of 10 degrees doubles the speed of the reaction). If glycine and glucose are dissolved in boiling water it stays clear, then turns a slight yellow and eventually turns brown. And in this conversion the result of colouring meat releases the utmost important odorant, in which we all relate to – “charred flavour” either from a piece of meat or fish etc (compare a white chicken stock to a browned chicken stock). Caramelization has nothing to do with browning. When sucrose is heated it dissociates into simple sugars  (fructose residue and glucose residue). The activated fructose reacts with other simple sugars to form long chains known as FRUCTOSE DIANHYDRIDES. Odorant molecules are formed, brown molecules are formed and the common caramel is obtained. (Caramels are not limited to just sucrose; glucose caramels, fructose caramels could also give us a wide range of possibilities as they all have different odours and flavours.

2.    Yes and no. Now we all know that if a piece of meat is cooked in water for a long period of time the water gets flavoured, leaving a less then flavourful piece of meat. Now to consider this first, the important factor to braising will be temperature. This must be kept below boiling point to prevent the outer portions of the meat from being badly overcooked. Often, braises are cooked in a low oven with the usual specified temperature range from 165 – 175 degrees (F) in a cover. However this will raise it to a boil unless it is uncovered. The chamber should be kept below 200 degrees Fahrenheit. Leaving the braise uncovered will allow cooling evaporation. The braising liquid concentrates creating flavour (therefore using an already flavoured solution is important). At the same time, the meat cooking releases flavour (in the form of liquid from the meat) into the solution in which it is cooked. As the proteins coagulate due to heat, fibrils squeeze out some of the water they had contained and shrink, a thin elastic sheet of connective tissue around each muscle cell then squeezes the unbound water out of the end of the cells (this can be easily tested for observation: vacuum pack a piece of meat, cook en sous vide and you can see the end result of the amount of liquid released – coagulation resulting from heat). Now the important point of braising is cooling down the cooked meats in the solution. As it cools, the meat will absorb a certain amount of the solution which will intensify the flavour of the meat itself.

3.    Absolutely. A piece of meat is made up of many individual muscle cells or fibres. These fibres are filled with many fibrils, which are made up of actin and myosin. When a muscle contracts, the filaments of actin and myosin slide past each other. Selecting the cut of meat for braising is as important as it is to know how to cook it.  Lean meat is made up of about 75% water, 20% protein and 3% fat. As explained, cooking will squeeze out the liquid from a piece of meat. So in choosing a piece of meat which is not as lean and contains more proteins and fat ratio to water would be much more ideal for braising, say comparing a piece of cheek to a cut of tenderloin. A piece of cheek definitely will match up to contain a bigger ratio of collagen, which will transform into gelatin as a result of heat. If cooked well, the result will produce a soft texture, yet slight bounce from the gelatin and overall satisfyingly moist mouth feel.

References:
1. On Food and Cooking, The Science and Lore of the Kitchen by Harold McGee.
2. An Introduction to Technological Applications of Molecular Gastronomy, INICON, online PDF article. http://www.inicon.net/

This is just an example where taking this basic principal and applying it to the table will aid the chef for multiple cooking possibilities.

Click to view the full chart.

( K-15) Based on the chart, oven roasting is followed by scalding where in this case is scalding of hot oil. This is a process that is used for Chinese Roast Duck. And so on, a mix of multiple cooking processes would benefit the chef for an ideal end result. Tender interior with a crisp surface, etc.

Tangyuan

Tangyuan (also known as Kuih Ee) is a Chinese dessert made from glutinous rice flour. It is traditionally eaten on Dong Zhi, the Winter Solstice Festival.  Dong Zhi signals the start of winter and was celebrated as the start of the Chinese New Year, a long, long time ago.  That is why some Chinese still eat tangyuan on Dong Zhi, whereas others eat it during Chinese New Year (either on the first day, or on Chap Goh Mei, the 15th and last day of the first lunar month).

Tangyuan symbolizes ‘sweet reunion’ – its round shape a symbol of completeness, harmony and unity within the family, so it is sometimes also eaten during other special occasions when family members come together, such as during the Lantern Festival, or birthdays.

Some of our elders also believe that the eating of tangyuan is to remind us that we’re a year older, and to look forward to the coming year, perhaps with a resolution to do better, or just a wish for a fulfilling year ahead.

Basic tangyuan are plain (no filling) and very simple to make (glutinous rice flour + water + optional food colouring = dough –> formed into small balls, cooked in boiling water, and served in a syrup or sweet dessert soup).  Some prefer tangyuan with filling, such as red bean or black sesame paste.

Niangao

There are many variations of niangao (usually based on region – Shanghai, Hong Kong, Singapore, etc), so I’ll just blog about the one I’m most familiar with – niangao from Singapore (also known as Tee Kueh or Kuih Bakul in Malaysia). Niangao is a sort of sweet ‘cake’ or ‘pudding’, made from glutinous rice flour.

Although commercially available all year round, it is especially eaten during Chinese New Year for its auspicious meaning.  The words nian gao literally mean “year cake”, but gao also means “high”, so symbolically, it means something like “higher each year”.  Thus, it is eaten or given to others during Chinese New Year – that time of year when auspicious greetings and wishes for happiness, prosperity, good health, good fortune, and ANYTHING else GOOD, are… well… good.

Some Chinese display niangao in their kitchens a week before the Chinese New Year.  This is because there’s a belief that the Kitchen God returns to heaven before the new year with a ‘household report’, kind of like ‘em HACCP guys. And like Santa, he knows if you’ve been good or bad.  So some folk offer this super sticky and sweet rice cake to the Kitchen God so that it glues his mouth shut and he has nothing to report to ‘headquarters’, or perhaps so that only sweet words will come out of his mouth!

We weren’t able to make our annual trip back to Singapore and Malaysia this year and Dubai isn’t exactly a place you’d easily find goodies from home to usher in the Lunar New Year.  Apart from mandarins, pineapples and a very hard pomelo, almost everything else symbolic of Chinese New Year had to be handmade.  From decorations to CNY snacks and goodies.

I finally found CM Supermarket (a small minimart in Karama that sells Thai food products), and paid an arm and a leg for some banana leaves.  I found out the next day that it’s also sold at the huge Lulu Hypermarket in Al Barsha for much cheaper.  Anyway, inspired with these leaves, I decided to try my hand at making niangao.  I wasted my first batch by following an absolutely bogus recipe from a magazine, which was actually a carbon copy of a recipe from another “recipe” book that we actually paid good money for.  Don’t you just hate these fake recipes?!!

Anyway, I finally combined a few niangao recipes sourced from the Internet and surprisingly managed to get it (quite) right.  You definitey need a lot of arm strength to stir the super thick mixture of flour, water, sugar and gula melaka (palm sugar).  The mixture was very lumpy so I had to manually ‘de-lump’ it till I got a smooth, silky texture.  And I just wasn’t able to keep the surface of the ‘cake’ dry while it was steaming in the pot, even after covering it with muslin and parchment.  So it looked quite gross after it was done.  However, the ugly duckling actually turned out nice after it was left to cool and set in the fridge for a day.

We only used it for display throughout the new year for its symbolism.  But of course, it can be eaten.  Even if its got a bit of mould on the surface, you can slice off the nasty bits.  And if it has become too hard, it can be re-steamed.  One way my Mom prepares tee kueh as a snack back home is to cut it into small pieces, steam it till softened, then roll in grated coconut (with a bit of salt).  A bit like Kuih Kosui.  Another popular way of eating niangao is when it’s cut into thick slices, sandwiched between a slice of sweet potato and yam, dipped in batter and deep-fried.  Delish!  Nothing the Kitchen God can complain about for sure.

Ingredients & Method

Banana leaves – boiled to soften and to remove waxy residue, then cut into strips to line ramekin or cake tin.  Best if it’s long enough so that the strips can be folded over the edge of the tin on the outside. Tie a string around the edge to keep the leaves in place. Brush the leaves with a bit of vegetable oil.

330g castor sugar + 170g gula melaka (can be substituted with brown sugar, or simply use 500g castor, brown or palm sugar).  Personally, I like the flavour from the palm sugar, and it gives the niangao a richer and deeper colour too.

Melt the sugar with 1 + 1/3 cups of water + 2-3 pandan (pandanus) leaves. Leave syrup to cool.

500g glutinous rice flour – sift into a large mixing bowl. Mix in 1-2 tbs vegetable/corn oil.  Make a well in the center and add in the cooled syrup, then stir/mix well till a smooth and creamy texture is achieved.

Pour into ramekin/cake tins.  Cover with muslin or parchment and steam for 5 – 8 hours.  Let cool, then keep in refridgerator to set. Makes 1 medium-sized (15cm diameter cake tin) and 2 small (ramekin-sized) cakes.

Ben improved on my recipe at work the next day and produced much better results.  And armed with the right kitchen tools, he didn’t have to worry about lumps and such.  Here’s his recipe (enough to feed a few kitchen gods and their many minstrels).

• 3000g glutinous rice flour
• 600g corn oil
• 3000g castor sugar
• 3000g water
• 5 pandan leaves

1. 1. Make syrup with sugar, water and leaves.  Leave to cool till at least below 6 degrees Celcius.
2. 2. Remove pandan leaves and add oil to syrup.
3. 3. Add flour and mix well.
4. 4. Strain the mixture and let it sit for 3 hours.
5. 5. Steam for 9 hours.