Red Date Honey Tea

I like red dates. I like the natural sweetness, the reddish skin that breaks as I bite into it and the satisfaction of spitting out a clean kernel. Yes, I get a kick out of it. It's a mission I always try to accomplish. Waste not, want not. Every date is precious. ha.

These dates are used often in Chinese soups/desserts/medicines. It's not surprising, considering their health properties. These dates are known to nourish one's blood, calm the mind, aiding in digestion too. But I have to say, I hardly eat dates. The only time I consume them is when I have cheng tng, or those cold white fungus dessert. These two Chinese desserts always have dates in them, well most of the time. It is always a nice surprise to find those with the kernels taken out, making it easier to enjoy the sweet flesh in all its entirety.

So what's the deal about dates now? I guess it's all about curiousity and a keen sense of adventure. Okay maybe not so much adventure.

You know how much I love to try foods in various forms and flavours! So I was naturally eager to try out this red date honey tea I chanced upon at the Korean supermart near my workplace:



Granted there is no tea in it, it makes a refreshing drink.

The best thing is that it really does taste like red dates. Yes, I know that's a given but I think sometimes I feel silly when things I buy end up tasting nothing like what the label says. So I always always look at the ingredient list:




I was confident when I bought this bottle because the first ingredient in the list was red date juice, followed by red date pulp, which was quite evident especially since the bottle was transparent. Check out the abundant red date pieces:



This was a good buy. It wasn't really cheap. I think it was $8.50. But it was worth it. I drink it whenever I need a pick-me-up.




The best part is biting into the red date pieces as you enjoy the drink. You can drink it warm or cold, it's really up to you. I personally like it cold. But the honey tends to be a bit thick and jelly-like, so do dissolve it in hot water first before pouring cold water and ice.

Since I'm at it, with spoon shots, might as well show you my most favourite utensil in the world:



The Spork. It's by this Swedish company called Light My Fire. I bought a cool Light My Fire triangular lunchbox that came with a cool Spork. You can buy a Spork itself for SGD$3.95. If you are living in Singapore and would love to get your hands on one, go to Robinsons. I found it at the Raffles City outlet. More on Sporks and Light My Fire in another post!

Supercool Snacks

I count myself blessed to have wonderful colleagues who are far from bitchy. We manage to breathe the same air without a single shred of politics. It helps that they are a fun bunch who also love food. There's a healthy culture of food sharing in our office and it's cool how we always buy happy food to stock up our pantry with. Most of us are adventurous and are game enough to try anything interesting (as long as it's not an extreme!).

My recent addition to the pantry was pumpkin crisps with white sesame and red date honey. The red date honey really tasted good. Made out of red date juice and mixed with honey, the bottle had slices of red dates which makes for a fun munch. I bought it from our nearby Korean dry goods shop.

Just yesterday, our colleague, who just came back from a business trip to Shanghai, surprised us with an entire pack of Collon minis.

I am not sure how accessible Collon rolls are around the world but I do know that it was one of my favourite after-school snacks back when I was in Primary and Secondary school. I loved the strawberry flavour and would savour the cream slowly after I had nibbled on the biscuit part.

It's been quite a while since I bought myself a box of Collon so imagine the wave of nostalgia that hit when I saw the Collon that my colleague bought.

That's not the only cool thing - it was uber cool that she bought the chestnut flavoured one:



How cool is that???

Trust me, it really tastes like actual chestnut. I was caught by surprise. I expected a mediocre fake chestnut aftertaste. Alas, I underestimated the makers of Collon. The chestnut cream isn't as sweet as the marron cream by the French. This one leans towards our Asian roasted chestnut feel.

Collon rolls are superb. Sometimes it's the littlest, most unassuming junk food that puts a smile to your face. Oh and speaking of little. These Collon packs are so handy because they really are tiny! I measured them and they are only about 2 inches tall!



I actually have alot of supercool snacks I haven't shared with you all. Trust me, there are loads of cool snacks that deserve to be eaten so stay tuned for more snack talk.

Kuzu Mochi

You wouldn't be surprised if you found out which subjects I enjoyed most when I was in secondary school. Apart from English and Literature, the other subject I adored was Home Economics. Although I only took the subject for the first two years of my secondary school life, it certainly made evident, my love for cooking. Even in primary school, I had joined a pretty cool ECA (extra-curricular activity) called Home Management. This after-school activity of sorts lasted about 2 to 3 hours and it was mandatory for us to choose at least one ECA. Well today it's called CCA (co-curricular activity) although I don't see the difference calling it ECA or CCA. So anyway, my Home Managment CCA was pretty useful - we were taught how to fold cocktail napkins, how to set the table and of course, how to cook. I learnt how to bake marble cakes, rock buns, vol au vents, pizza toast and the works. People who meet me for the first time are always fascinated with my immense affection for all things culinary. Some find it intriguing, others find it amusing and till today, I can't really explain how I came to love food; not just the technical aspects but also the historical, scientific and cultural (and some would say artistic) sides of it.

Perhaps I started young, or perhaps it was simply the fact that food is much celebrated in my home. My talented Peranakan father always fed me and my two younger siblings with the best sambal belachan, devil curry, assam pedas, sambal sotong, ayam buah keluak, babi pongteh, etc... His portions were always quite generous. "Eat, eat, there's plenty more in the kitchen, don't worry, just eat", he'll say, in a highly encouraging tone. Dad thought we were too skinny (though I begged to differ, I think we were just nice, normal, healthy kids) and I must say I didn't have any complaints. Us kids were always well fed and I guess I grew to appreciate the deliciousness that ensued after the aromatic wafts of spices that graced our dining area ever so frequently. Such is the beginning of the my love affair with food and it has since evolved into something quite special.

Call me a foodie or an aspiring chef if you wish; to me, I'm just a girl who realised just how amazing our tastebuds are. Perhaps it is a natural process - people who enjoy their food end up in the kitchen because that's the only way they can ensure that their favourite dish won't remain a distant memory even after the restaurant has closed down or standards, dropped. Is it then safe to say that I have indeed stumbled into the kitchen only to find a world of wonder and pure magic? I guess so.

It is very much an adventure, this relationship I have with food. I get an adrenalin rush when something I cook or bake turns out better than I had imagined. But of course there are those times where I just shake my head in disappointment at that sunken cake or horrendous looking mess. Trust me, I have had my fair share of kitchen disasters. No one can avoid it - it might have happened to you once, or twice or thrice, but at the end of the day, you learn that it's okay because there's always next time - or you blame the oven/stove/pan and weather.

There are many reasons for kitchen disasters. One key component is the lack of understanding of the cooking process or of the ingredients. This is where science steps in. Mind you, science was one of my weakest subject. I never really understood why we had to learn osmosis, condensation, and atoms. Okay, let's put it this way: I know science is important and necessary. I just didn't like how it was taught.

Fast forward to today and I will boldly say that if Heston Blumenthal had been my science teacher and used chocolate to explain the nature of molecules, then I would probably have had ample 'A's for my science subjects.

The chef and owner of The Fat Duck (currently the second best restaurant in the world according to the World's Best Restaurants List by Restaurant Magazine) is truly a force to be reckoned with. He is the man behind the controversial egg and bacon ice cream, including his restaurant specials such as snail porridge, beetroot jellies, white chocolate and caviar buttons, grain mustard icecream in red cabbage gazpacho, and crab icecream (yes c-r-a-b. that crustacean famous for its ability to walk sideways).

Mr. Blumenthal, a Michelin starred chef (all of three!) who has been called a chemist/magician/scientist/chef is someone who embraces the power of science to break the normal notions you and I have about food. And yet, he doesn't quite like the term molecular gastronomy. To him, the term only complexes things. In an interview with the Guardian, he says that 'Molecular makes it sound complicated...and gastronomy makes it sound elitist'. He then lets on that the term was only 'dreamt up in 1992 by a physicist called Nicholas Kurti who needed a fancy name for the science of cooking so he could get a research institute to pay attention to his work'. That was how the term molecular gastronomy was born, obviously more preferred than a pair of seemingly lack-lustre word known simply as kitchen science.

To me, it is amazing how a chef who has no professional culinary training in any institution whatsoever can venture this far, revving on his search for perfection even if it means using nitrogen, hydrocolloids, and music. Yes music. He is apparently working with Sony to 'push sound at diners in a particular way while they are eating', therefore creating a 'multi-sensory experience' which he believes eating is all about.

Tell me if you aren't already hyped up. I know I am. I've heard about Mr. Blumenthal and his creative approach to food but it is only recently that I've taken a deeper interest. That was when I chanced upon some episodes of his show Kitchen Chemistry. Each programme is only 20 minutes long but is jam packed with loads of interesting facts and techniques ignorant fools like me aren't aware of. It made me sit up and take a second look. Adding water to chocolate - that won't send you to hell, that's what I learnt. Another thing I found out: dark chocolate and blue cheese were made for each other. Talk about a scandalous union. Now this is what an adventurous kitchen venture is about. This man sure knows his stuff. In case you were wondering, the forces that brought dark chocolate and blue cheese together are strongly supported by science (in this case, chemistry). Go watch the programme to find out more.

True enough, I am overwhelmed with awe and excitement. It's not as if I haven't seen or heard of molecular gastromony, of the fusion between science and food. Call it an epiphany if you wish, but Mr. Blumenthal has ignited a sudden passion in me, one that I didn't know existed - a much more rooted interest in science and the way we can use it to optimise taste and experiences in foods we always thought as mundane.

Do I regret not trying harder at science in school? Nah, I don't think so. I believe we were all made for different things but that doesn't mean we cannot be aware of the unknown. Sometimes, it is the way we encounter it. Some ways are more impactful than others and I think right now is the perfect time for me to expose myself to the beauty of utilising science in the kitchen.

Trust me, when you are aware of the intricacies of the things you hold dear, you tend to appreciate it more, and the same can be said for me, now.

I tried to find a simple illustration to explain what I mean and this is the best I could come up with: kuzu mochi.

Don't laugh! I know it sounds really simple and you might think it has got nothing to do with science or anything Mr. Blumenthal has whipped up in his own laboratory of a kitchen. But hear me out.

Now, I'm sure you might have come across arrowroot flour. This is a type of starch that's taken from the arrowroot and it is usually used as a thickener.

I was recently given some arrowroot starch but it didn't come in a flour-like form. Instead, the packet was filled with clumps of white that looked more like crushed chalk pieces than anything else. I was naturally very curious and turned over the packet and saw that it was called kuzu starch.

The major problem I had was that the packet had only Japanese instructions. Yes it was a product from Japan and I did stare at the instructions for quite a while, hoping that the Japanese characters would miraculously make sense to me. I tried hard to fanthom what to do with the starch. I was given three 150g packets and didn't want to waste them so I bravely went home to try and use it the way it was depicted on the packet. It did help that there were illustrations of the method on the packet. But like I said, it came with only Japanese instructions.

After about an hour of furrowed eyebrows and shrouded mystery, I decided to jump right into the unknown and use the starch as common sense would have me do. Some mixing of water and starch was required it seem. Fine, let's mix it, yes it's dissolving, good. Now there appears to be sugar involved, okay, add that in. Mix it, okay, that's done. Now heat it and stir it.

NOW that's the tricky part. Heat can make or break your food. Yes it has that power. I have seen my fair share of burnt clumps and coagulated lumps. If you cook, you would know that the moment you overheat something, it is irreversible. So there I was, stirring and stirring and looking quite bewildered and lost. Seriously, if you stood next to me, you would have known that whatever was in that pot could more or less be in the bin soon enough.

But I had faith. I thought that it was okay, that science is science but if I put my love into it, I could make this work. The recipe supposedly gave you kuzu mochi. I had no problems making my bean paste so all I had to do was to not screw up the kuzu starch part.

To cut the long story short, I discovered that love itself cannot save an overheated starch mixture and that I shouldn't try to read Japanese.

What was a determined person like me to do? Figure out a way to read the recipe properly of course. The only way to do that is to translate the Japanese characters into proper English. How was I going to do that? Get someone who understands both Japanese and English to translate it for me? Yep but who can do that for me?

Thankfully, I remembered a Japanese friend I made via this humble blog of mind. She's a sweet lady and her name's even sweeter: Yumiko. We've only communicated via emails but we hit it off because of our common love for food. So anyway, I decided that I really wanted to make this kuzu mochi and overcome my scientific mistake and prove to myself that it is possible for me to make food and science work.

I scanned the packet and sent Yumiko the Japanese instructions and within a few days, I got an email from her with the clearly translated instructions dictated in English. After checking out the recipe, I realised I had gotten the steps mixed up. You see what I mean when I repeat how important it is to truly understand the technique and ingredient that you're using? I believe the same thing rings true in a lab as it does in a kitchen. I was to find that out when I tried the recipe for a second time.

The second time was much better. It wasn't perfect but it was better than the first. I ended up with kuzu mochi that resembled the drawing on the packet but somehow I am still not satisfied.




If you think I'm going to start talking about my third attempt, I'm sorry but there is none. I stopped at the second attempt and yes I know I still have that third packet of kuzu starch.

Maybe I will use it soon, and this time with sharper awareness of the science that makes it possible for the starch to gel, for it to be semi-translucent, for it to have such a chewy yet clean texture. Thinking about it now makes me want to kick myself for not having the brains to realise the beauty of science sooner. Yes I am quite stubborn and I used to think science wasn't my cup of tea. Little did I realise that many years down the road, I would be right here, in my own kitchen, playing with baking powder, eggs and butter, and of course kuzu starch, creating my own edible 'scientific experiments' that come in the form of cupcakes, mochi and brownies.

If only my science teacher was as unconventional as Heston Blumenthal and had used chocolate, and ice cream to explain science to me. Maybe, maybe then I could have scored in science. Well that's just a maybe.

No, I'm not going to turn my kitchen into a laboratory. Instead, I'm going to see cooking in a new light. I might not have what it takes to be like Mr. Blumenthal but that does not mean I cannot explore food the way he does.

I am for kitchen science. I am for innovation and exploration. I am for dark chocolate and blue cheese. Now here's the challenge - to make that molten chocolate blue cheese cake just like Blumenthal. The day I master that dessert is the day I go to kitchen science heaven.

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How to make Kuzu An-mochi （葛あんもち）

(Kuzu An-mochi means Mochi made from kuzu root starch with sweet adzuki bean paste inside; also called “Kuzu Manju” in Japan)

Ingredients:
(葛粉)Kuzu root starch 50 gram (1 package)
(水)Water 200 cc
(砂糖)Sugar 80 gram
(こしあん)Koshi-an (ready-made) 250 gram
(sweet, smooth paste of adzuki beans)

Directions
1.In a saucepan, put in kuzu and add water slowly, mixing to dissolve kuzu completely in water. Then add sugar to it and mix thoroughly.

2.Cook it over a medium heat. Stir quickly and frequently with a wooden spatula to mix well. When the color turns milky white, remove the pan from the heat.

3. While hot, using a spatula divide the mixture into several parts in about equal measure and make each into a patty. Make small balls of Koshi-an with your hands (like when making meatballs) and wrap each ball with a kuzu patty. Round each up into a ball with your wet hands. (Make sure Koshi-an is in the center wrapped completely by the Kuzu outside)

4. Spread a wet towel across the bottom of a steam cooker. Onto the wet towel place the balls from Step 3 with enough room between one another. Steam them for 5-6 minutes until the kuzu-mochi become translucent.

5. Remove the steamer from the heat and pour cold water all over the cooked mochi rounds to rapidly cool them down.

6. Wrap them each around with a cherry leaf (make sure to soak the leaves in salt water for a few hours or wash them with strong salt water before use) to make them.

Taiwan - Part 3

Five months on and I still miss Taiwan. Granted that I was only there for 15 days, I should be so over it. But you see, the thing about Taiwan is this: it's quite unforgettable.

I can only think of two main reasons. Firstly, I spent most (all 12 of it) of the 15 days up in the mountains. Secondly, I'm a sentimental person, one who cherishes memories so much so that I collect keepsakes from every holiday that I've been on. I always bring a journal with me and note down the highlights of my trips and this Taiwan trip, it was no different. Stuffed in my bag all the time even as I walked up steep mountain slopes was a journal with a purple coloured velvety-textured cover that I had bought from Borders. I was too lazy to snap a shot of it so you'll have to imagine.

Journaling helps to jog one's memory and that is probably why I will never forget Taiwan. I have the pages of my journal open in front of me as I type this. Oh and you know what they say about holidays and all - it's the company you're with that makes a difference. Allow me to just say how glad I was to be up in the mountains with four of my most favourite ladies in the world: Grannie, Xiao yi (youngest aunt), Krystle (my dear cousin) and Christine (my angel of a sister). Yep, it really was quite an estrogen-driven trip I'd say. Ha.

So pardon me for posting up part 3 so late. I've been caught up with other stuff and totally forgot about this post. I suppose it's better late than never. I just know that I would rather share this beautiful side of Taiwan with you than have these photos stay neglected in the depths of the hard drive in my laptop.

According to my journal, I was at Li Shan 22 December last year and this is where I'll continue from, in this third part of my lovely Taiwan trip.

For starters, here's a photo of the cool place we stayed at which was called Swallow Castle:




I'd say the coolest thing about the place has got to be their electric bed warmer. You know the ones you see them use in Korean dramas? It looks like a comforter and it's placed on the bed under the sheets. Now don't ask me why I associate them with Korean dramas! It's true - I checked and found out that the one they had was made in Korea. See I told you! Anyway, up in the mountains where it gets really chilly at night, an electric bed warmer is as close to heaven as you can get. I actually found it quite hard to leave the bed in the mornings.

Okay moving on from bed warmers, to breakfast. We had our breakfast here for the two mornings we were at Swallow Castle, and the breakfast area was so cosy it felt like I was in my own home:



Breakfast in Taiwan is always a porridge affair. Hotels and inns usually provide porridge and side dishes like fermented beancurd:



Don't baulk at that photo! It really is yummy. Oops, I forgot that my tastebuds are weird. Yep I love things that most people hate. Perfect example: blue cheese.

Here's my sister and aunt busy over breakfast. You can see the variety of dishes offered:



There's cabbage, fried anchovies with peanuts, Chinese black fungus, the fermented beancurd thing and some other red thing (sorry I forgot what it's made of!). Oh my aunt and I loved the fermented beancurd so much we bought a few jars (yes, Swallow Castle sells their own homemade fermented beancurd). We have since finished it (duh, it's been five months!) and are craving for more. Anyone going to Taiwan soon? ;)

A little introduction about Li Shan. Li Shan, translated to English, would literally be Pear Mountain and that is not without reason. There are many fruit farms on Li Shan and the biggest one I believe is Fushoushan Farm which Christine and I managed to go to, after hiking up more than 4km.

The view on top of Li Shan is beautiful and breathtaking. It seemed almost foreign though, considering how much of a city life I've had in Singapore, with more concrete jungle in my surroundings than actual mountains and fruit farms.






We were quite amazed at the size of the fruit farms and I started wishing I had my own fruit farm. Hmmm what a lovely thought. I guess that could happen, if I one day decide to run away from the city and plant myself in the mountains (I could always come back to Li Shan eh) and grow my own pears and apples and live quite happily.

Of course to do that, I would have to find out more about the mountain don't I? So I did, and I went to the Li Shan visitor center




Krystle and Grannie




And in the process, I thought what better way to imagine myself living on the mountain than to dress up like one of them. Okay they don't really dress like that. Those tribal outfits are worn by the tribes living deeper in the mountains. At the visitor centre, I got to learn alot more about their way of life too



Like how they lived in wooden huts. Ah-huh, no kidding.




Of course they had to shoot animals for food. I tried my hand at that, although imaginary, it was quite fun.




They no stoves of course, only woodfire.

Yep, you could see how intrigued I was. I'm not sure if I'd survive in a tribe. Maybe I will?

Anyway, back to the fruits. I told you about the abundance of fruit farms didn't I? So obviously there would be loads of fruits for sale:



And that's not all. There are many fruit stalls all over the place. I just didn't bother taking photos of all of them.

One fruit stall owner was quite the entrepreneur. He sold other stuff like hot comforting pear soup and barbecued meats:







Including entire quails. Yes, quails. I ate some. They were delicious. You will notice that I avoided posting a photo of me eating it. Yea, I think you wouldn't understand why I found it tasty. It did feel weird, I'll admit. Especially since it still has its head intact. Well what can I say, I'm adventurous, to a certain extent (read: will not eat worms or maggots).

After that yummy snack, we walked about to take in the sights...











It's really easy to take beautiful pictures when the surroundings are so damn gorgeous. These shots you see were taken when I was going up the mountain to the huge Fushoushan at the top of Li Shan.

There were plenty of pretty flowers and plants... and of course dandelions!






I love dandelions mostly because they are fun. I love to blow at them at watch the small fluffs fly away.

Oh and acorns too:



Big fan of acorns. I still have those you see up there. Yep, I'm a 'hoarder'. I hoard old and weird memorabilias and keep them till I find out how useless they are 10 years down the road and decide to chuck them.

This is one of my favourite shots:



Somehow, it doesn't look like Taiwan. It feels as if I was in the woods in a huge forest.

Here's an abandoned church:




And a flea market of sorts! It reminds me of our pasar malam here:



One cool thing about being up in the mountains is the 'random-ness' of things. Out of nowhere, at the least expected places, there will be things and people and stuff you won't think would be there. I'm not sure if I make any sense. May not, but hopefully you get my drift. Here's a random stall set up by a lady who seemed to be selling fish soup. I love how you can have the mountains in the backdrop.



And guess what, I saved the best for the last.....

The PEARS we picked out fresh from the farm!



Okay, we didn't mean to steal them! They were ripe ones which fell to the ground so rather than have them rot or birds peck at them, we decided it would be better in our stomachs and so we cleaned them and had them after dinner.



I have alot more photos but it'll be impossible to post them all up so I picked out only the most interesting and beautiful ones.

There will be a part four, and five and six.... I promise.

Don't you just want to go to Taiwan right now? I know I want to fly there on a broomstick this very instant. I miss those pears.

The Miele Guide

I know I know, it's been weeks since I last posted!

But I have a very good reason. A reason that I'm rather proud of. It's not only because I truly believe in it but also because of the hope it brings to Asia, to those in the culinary profession or basically anyone who campaigns good food.

Regular readers might be aware that I've been working full-time as an editorial consultant since January. I haven't revealed much of what I do but today all shall be revealed.

And here I present to you, The Miele Guide - Asia's first truly independent restaurant guide.

We just launched Phase 2 - where YOU get to tell us which are Asia's best restaurants. Please do cast your votes online at our beautifully designed site.

Allow me to credit the hardworking team who helped make this a reality. Who better to get the first mention than the bosses. I do give it to him and S for sticking to their guns and putting money where their mouths are. I'm learning plenty from them and of course it helps to have bosses who understand your love for food especially since they themselves are major foodies. And then there's my wonderful colleague, P, who's the associate publisher. I've never seen anyone as commited to her job as her. She's one of those thoughtful individuals who wake up early just to buy 5 boxes of paus and egg tarts for the entire office for breakfast.

Of course there's also the ultra-talented web team made up of A, (who's better known as Popagandhi) the web consultant, a capable web designer and a smart web programmer. The three of them have been clocking in long hours prior to the launch day, along with P and I must say they did a great job. Seriously. I'm impressed at how they turn an idea into pixels and html. What can I say, I'm quite the html-idiot. That's why my blog is so plain and simple.

When I first joined the team, I knew it was going to be a ride but I didn't expect it to be this amazing. Right now I'm more than excited about the guide, the doors it opens and of the recognition of Asia's culinary gems. It's been long overdue I say.

So how do you vote and change culinary history? You have to first register - it's easy peasy, takes you less than the amount of time you take to tie your shoe laces, or cream your butter and sugar. Now, here's the icing on the cake - every person who votes stands to win one of three uber cool prizes that will dazzle you. Winners will be able to dine with a friend at the top-ranked restaurants in Singapore, Hong Kong, and Tokyo (respectively). On top of that, you'll enjoy a 2-night stay at a five-star hotel in each city.

What's the voting process like? First of all, you have a maximum of 10 votes and if you live in one of the 16 Asian countries we're covering, you can only vote for up to 3 restaurants in your home-country. Best yet, you need not kill trees with physical voting a la pen and paper. We are definitely tree lovers so you can only vote online and it's really very simple. All you have to do is choose the country whose restaurants you wish to vote for and you'll see the restaurant shortlist. You can then select your choice retaurants or nominate those that are not already in the list.

Trust me, it's one of the most, if not, only democratic process ever implemented by a restaurant guide. Which gives you more reason to VOTE NOW.

Want to know how The Miele Guide came to be? Read Chubby's Hubby's story. Still want more? read his latest post about the guide.

Visit The Miele Guide's website today to find out more. You can also pre-order the guide at our shop. While you're at it, how about joining our facebook group? That way you won't be kept in the dark. Trust me, with The Miele Guide, it's all about transparency, and credibility.

Here's to good food, fine company and a beautiful slim red guide that will forever change the history of restaurants in Asia.

We love Pho

I recently posted about phở, my love for it and a certain person who loves phở so much he decided to turn it into art.

Meet Mr. Cuong Phu Le, Asian-Australian Community Cultural Development Officer of Casula Powerhouse Arts Centre in Sydney. Yes he's pictured above in a really cute I love phở shirt.

Those of you who attended the talk at the National Museum would be familiar with Mr. Cuong. I was most certainly inspired by him. You can see how he manages to fuse his interest for food and culture and present it to the lay person on the street with such enthusiasium that you can't help but be infected with the phở love bug.

I was helping out at the talk and managed to snap some shots just for you:











Yes, everyone had a hot bowl of phở at the end. It was quite a big portion and it actually tasted rather good.



I'm sure you're now wishing you had come! Ah well there's always next time. Anyway, the food was just a bonus. The talk was the highlight and it certainly was enlightening.

Just because he is the founder and curator of the I love Phở visual arts exhibition (which I hope makes it to Singapore eventually!), people expect him to know where to find the best phở. It's an occupational hazard! But Cuong doesn't mind it because it just gives him the perfect excuse to go suss out phở everywhere he goes!

He did just that in Singapore as well. I was tasked to bring Cuong around the island to find the best phở.

Okay, maybe not the best one because I got to admit that I myself have not eaten all the phở there is to be found here so I'm not the best judge. But I did do some research and we checked out Pho 24 and Va Va Voom.

Why these two places? Well Pho 24 is actually a franchise from Vietnam. Va Va Voom is a Vietnamese concept eatery I frequent occasionally when I'm craving for a hot bowl of phở. Oh and it was nearby. We were strapped for time that's why!

I don't have photos from Pho 24. I guess I was a bit disappointed that the beef phở wasn't ready when we arrived around 11:30am. They supposedly stew their soups for 24 hours with 24 different spices. Hmmm so maybe that's why their beef soup wasn't ready? We had the chicken phở instead. It wasn't too bad but it was my first time tasting chicken phở so I didn't have much to say.

So off we went to Va Va Voom to fix our craving for beef phở.





This Hue Spicy Beef noodle uses a clear spicy broth and the noodles are the same as the ones used in laksa. They're round, semi opaque and made from rice flour.

I did of course ask Cuong how he liked his beef phở. He did say it wasn't too bad but he wished it had more ginger in it. I never knew that the phở in Vietnam had ginger in it. At least now I know.

Looks like I wasn't the only one taking photos of the food..



Just too bad our tummies weren't bottomless or we could have gone on and visited other Vietnamese restaurants for more phở.

Anyway, do feel free to feedback to me if you are absolutely sure you have found the best phở in Singapore. I'll be sure to try it myself!

And if you're free this Saturday, do head on down to The National Museum at 3pm for a very delicious and enriching talk on "Chocolate in the 18th Century". Regional pastry consultant of Valrhona Vincent Bourdin will be giving the talk.

Here's more info:

An Enlightened Age: Chocolate in the 18th Century
In the 18th century, chocolate's popularity reached across Europe and the Americas. It was a time of great upheavals in society that influenced who got to enjoy chocolate and who didn't, and of advances in technology that made possible the first chocolate bars. In this workshop, learn how the history of chocolate reflects the changes in society in the 18th century.
3 May 2008, 3pm, Salon, $10

Tickets for "An Enlightened Age: Chocolate in the 18th century" can be booked online at www.nationalmuseum.sg (go to Online Booking Page) or at the Visitor Services Counter at the National Museum of Singapore (93 Stamford Road Singapore 178897). Tickets are S$10 each.