Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Swill Anyone?
I couldn't help feeling being looked upon like a pig when I ordered some satay the other day and looked up to find, to my horror, that this relatively new stall had been named 'Swill @ Siglap'. And it is housed in a traditional coffee shop under the name of 'Small But Big'. The shop owner must have been very pleased that one of his stall operators has shared his sense of humour. Some years ago, I came across a coffee shop at one end of Balestier Road under the banner of 'Ban Diao Zi' (半调子）。To be exact, the correct Chinese expression of '半吊子 ’refers to someone who is not perfect or up to the mark. Am I to expect some diluted coffee at that shop? Or perhaps it's a shop for people who are only half good. Wonder if the shop still maintains its humble name today!
Monday, March 9, 2009
Fighting Back At The Right Time
Darren finally resigned. To leave a place where he has carved out quite a reputable niche for himself for a good part of the last three decades, that's not easy! But for no fault of his own, he was pulled out from what he was good at and thrown into a pit where he was mauled and mangled by tigresses very much his junior. He was not given a chance to pick up the new trade at his own pace, but was chided and abused openly for not abiding by the rules of the new den within just a couple of weeks of service. Open insults form a prerogative of those females who have managed to climb to the top, or almost near there. I could still remember the first shout of 'no excuse' hurled at me by a lioness with a deep voice that can terrorise many husbands-to-be. I was new to the job then and was not really guilty of the fault that she had picked at. I had to swallow it simply because I wanted to keep my job in those still tender years. I was in no position to threaten with a resignation within 24 hours as Darren had done. He's got the capital as many would say. I laud him for his guts. In any case, a boss should not take it out on a subordinate just because he or she is under pressure. A boomerang would hit somewhere hard on one of those unlucky days. Anyway, Darren is a free man in all aspects of the word. He has fought back and freedom is his reward.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Tossing Raw Fish Salad on The 15th Day
The Chinese New Year season came to an end with a lunch hosted by an ex-celebrity who has always been a great hostess.
The lunch started off with raw fish salad which is a must during Chinese New Year. 'Lo Yu Sang' (捞鱼生）or 'tossing the raw fish', as it is known in Cantonese, reputedly started more than half a century ago in Singapore. It may have derived from a way of eating fish in villages along the Pearl River in Guangdong Province, China. Anyway, it was said to have originated from a place called Jiangmen, which is just next to Zhongshan, Sun Yat Sen's hometown. Despite its obvious origins, the dish never reached its pinnacle of fame until it caught Singaporeans' fancy. People in Southern China, it seems, do not have the custom of tossing raw fish, not even in gourmet capitals such as Hong Kong, Guangzhou and Macao. But people in Singapore, and now even those in neighbouring Malaysia, are taking to it in a big way. The salad is becoming more colourful, with more ingredients. Raw fish is sometimes replaced by abalones, prawns and clams. I cannot say they are all suitable, though there is an excuse to increase the price more than tenfold if such exotic ingredients are added.
Recently, a Hong Kong food presenter, calling herself Suzie Wong, put on a mocking tone to introduce this dish in a New Year food special programme. She used noodles instead of the carrot strips used in the real thing and offered comments in a tone hinting at the eating standards of Singaporeans. She seems to give the impression that Singaporeans are really a silly bunch in getting hooked by such a dish and calling out auspicious slogans while tossing the salad. It may be Miss Wong's presentation style in hurling abuses at certain shops or dishes in her programme. But when comments are directed at a dish from a foreign source, so popular that it has more or less become a national dish of that place, some tact and sensitivity should be displayed. After all, the dish did not become famous for no reason.
As for the chanting of auspicious expressions while tossing the salad, it's all in the New Year spirit. The belief is the higher the salad is tossed, the more luck it will bring in the coming year, whether in the form of promotions in a career or striking it rich in any kind of draw. It's all for the fun and cheer and nothing to scoff at.
The earliest stall famous for raw fish salad was, as I can remember it, Chiu Kee (钊记), a somewhat insignificant coffee shop at Keong Saik Road (funny, I used to know it as Keong Saik Street， 恭锡街 as in Chinese) . It only became noisy and well lighted up during Chinese New Year when people flocked to the stall for raw fish salad and porridge, a heavenly combination. For the rest of the twelve months, it was relatively quiet. It looked as if it had earned enough during the first fifteen days of the year that it did not need to operate for the rest of the year. The four big chefs came on the scene much later. Anyway, Chiu Kee suddenly closed shop, probably in the seventies. Maybe, the owner decided that he had earned enough.
The lunch started off with raw fish salad which is a must during Chinese New Year. 'Lo Yu Sang' (捞鱼生）or 'tossing the raw fish', as it is known in Cantonese, reputedly started more than half a century ago in Singapore. It may have derived from a way of eating fish in villages along the Pearl River in Guangdong Province, China. Anyway, it was said to have originated from a place called Jiangmen, which is just next to Zhongshan, Sun Yat Sen's hometown. Despite its obvious origins, the dish never reached its pinnacle of fame until it caught Singaporeans' fancy. People in Southern China, it seems, do not have the custom of tossing raw fish, not even in gourmet capitals such as Hong Kong, Guangzhou and Macao. But people in Singapore, and now even those in neighbouring Malaysia, are taking to it in a big way. The salad is becoming more colourful, with more ingredients. Raw fish is sometimes replaced by abalones, prawns and clams. I cannot say they are all suitable, though there is an excuse to increase the price more than tenfold if such exotic ingredients are added.
Recently, a Hong Kong food presenter, calling herself Suzie Wong, put on a mocking tone to introduce this dish in a New Year food special programme. She used noodles instead of the carrot strips used in the real thing and offered comments in a tone hinting at the eating standards of Singaporeans. She seems to give the impression that Singaporeans are really a silly bunch in getting hooked by such a dish and calling out auspicious slogans while tossing the salad. It may be Miss Wong's presentation style in hurling abuses at certain shops or dishes in her programme. But when comments are directed at a dish from a foreign source, so popular that it has more or less become a national dish of that place, some tact and sensitivity should be displayed. After all, the dish did not become famous for no reason.
As for the chanting of auspicious expressions while tossing the salad, it's all in the New Year spirit. The belief is the higher the salad is tossed, the more luck it will bring in the coming year, whether in the form of promotions in a career or striking it rich in any kind of draw. It's all for the fun and cheer and nothing to scoff at.
The earliest stall famous for raw fish salad was, as I can remember it, Chiu Kee (钊记), a somewhat insignificant coffee shop at Keong Saik Road (funny, I used to know it as Keong Saik Street， 恭锡街 as in Chinese) . It only became noisy and well lighted up during Chinese New Year when people flocked to the stall for raw fish salad and porridge, a heavenly combination. For the rest of the twelve months, it was relatively quiet. It looked as if it had earned enough during the first fifteen days of the year that it did not need to operate for the rest of the year. The four big chefs came on the scene much later. Anyway, Chiu Kee suddenly closed shop, probably in the seventies. Maybe, the owner decided that he had earned enough.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Zhuhai --- A Lovely Stop
Ever since budget airlines call at Macao, I've been making stops there en route to Zhuhai and then on to other parts of the vast Guangdong Province in China. There's a world apart between Macao and Zhuhai where costs are concerned although Zhuhai is only a walk across the border checkpoints just as there's a world of difference between Macao and Hong Kong though there's nothing but water in between. In Zhuhai, I could easily find accommodation at about S$20 per person per night or even less. Expect a price range double that in Macao and even more on weekends during which casino clients flock and assemble from far and near though they don't neccesarily need a room for the night. So, after taking the budget flight to Macao, costing a bit more than S$200 for a return flight, including all the extras, if you book early enough, it's only within reason that I take a shuttle bus from the airport right to the Chinese border straightaway and hop over to Zhuhai, luggage and all, to enjoy a night's stay in a room cosy enough at half the price and sumptuous food too within a comparable price range.
There are hotels galore once you set foot on the Gong Bei area just outside the checkpoint. Men and women offering their trolleys to transport your luggage to wherever you want (somewhere not too far of course, not forgetting that they are draining their raw energy for your comfort) rush to your service. Taxi drivers too are there to transfer you to points which are further off. I usually sidestep these human obstacles since I like to stay in hotels which are located nearby within walking distance.
In my latest trip in December 2008, I booked a room in Fu Hai Gang Hotel. This was recommended by a friend who had just left Zhuhai a couple of weeks ago. 'Fu Hai Gang' means 'the blessed port'. This is an old name with a new location, making it an entirely new hotel. I've asked for a smoke-free room so everything was spick and span, including the smell. The room was spacious, as advised by my friend. And all at a promotional price of S$20 per person per night. The only thing that suffers is perhaps the poor surrounding, which doesn't offer really much of a view outside the window, but I didn't really mind since I was out most of the day.
Zhuhai is situated by the sea, so the air is cool and fresh. It has a big marketplace in Gong Bei in the area just off the checkpoint. On the second level of the market building, there's a big restaurant, serving dianxin (or tim-sum) in the morning and restaurant food late into the night. It is customary for restaurants in Zhuhai to offer 40% to 50% discount off the listed price. I wonder if this is done out of keen competition, but during my first stay there, my friend and I were given a 50% discount because we settled the bill before 11a.m. and we paid just a little over S$3 each for seven or eight varieties of dianxin, which I consider a steal, a price never thought of in Singapore.
But that was about three years ago. During that visit, I remember paying only S$7 for a claypot of sea cucumber braised with fish maw (or 'hua jiao'), both expensive items on the gourmet's list. The dish would have cost at least S$28 in Singapore. During this visit, the price even in Zhuhai has gone up to S$9, but the dish is just too delicious to pass up.
Another favourite dish that hails from my mother's hometown of Shunde (or Shun Tak in Cantonese) is the 'inlaid dace'. Cantonese cuisine has reigned supreme in China and many famous dishes come from Shunde. I consider myself half a Shunde original since my late mother was from there. Dace is called 'ling yu' in Chinese and is a river fish, that means a freshwater fish. In this hometown dish, the meat from the centre is dug out without disturbing the skin and is meshed with ingredients like water chestnuts. The fish paste is then inlaid beneath the skin and fried. When the dish is served, the fish is presented as a whole, cut into pieces with some gravy. Little would you expect that the meat of the fish has undergone such a major operation, covered up so immaculately by the entire fish skin. When I savoured it, I marvelled at the skill of the chef more than I enjoyed the taste of the fish itself. As expected, I never failed to order this dish whenever I made the trip to Zhuhai.
Dace is a rare commodity in Singapore, but is readily available from Hong Kong to Guangzhou. I first fell in love with something called the 'dace ball' (or ' ling yu qiu'), fish meat diced with mushrooms, water chestnut and dried orange peel. The dace ball, somewhat bigger than the normal fish balls, are boiled in congee and are normally available in noodle and congee shops in Hong Kong and Macao. This item is also available in similar shops in Singapore, but the taste and, oh the price, are quite different.
Another item which I usually see along the roadside in Gong Bei are guavas --- fresh, green and crisp. I've always thought they are from either Taiwan or Thailand, but they appear in such great numbers that sometimes I think they can be local. Unlicensed street hawkers carry them in baskets and sell them at 10 yuans for 8 or 9 fruits, very reasonable indeed. I always carry a small knife in my luggage for cutting fruits like guavas back in my hotel room. Not every fruit is as easy to handle as bananas and sometimes your stomach may not allow you to take too much bananas.
Zhuhai may not be such a scenic, cultural or historical city, but I love it for its fresh air and good food. I don't mind passing through it everytime I touch down at Macao. It's not as crowded as Shenzhen or Guangzhou. One or two nights passing through will not make one too tired of it. Zhuhai will stay popular as long as Macao maintains its stronghold as a stop for budget airlines.
There are hotels galore once you set foot on the Gong Bei area just outside the checkpoint. Men and women offering their trolleys to transport your luggage to wherever you want (somewhere not too far of course, not forgetting that they are draining their raw energy for your comfort) rush to your service. Taxi drivers too are there to transfer you to points which are further off. I usually sidestep these human obstacles since I like to stay in hotels which are located nearby within walking distance.
In my latest trip in December 2008, I booked a room in Fu Hai Gang Hotel. This was recommended by a friend who had just left Zhuhai a couple of weeks ago. 'Fu Hai Gang' means 'the blessed port'. This is an old name with a new location, making it an entirely new hotel. I've asked for a smoke-free room so everything was spick and span, including the smell. The room was spacious, as advised by my friend. And all at a promotional price of S$20 per person per night. The only thing that suffers is perhaps the poor surrounding, which doesn't offer really much of a view outside the window, but I didn't really mind since I was out most of the day.
Zhuhai is situated by the sea, so the air is cool and fresh. It has a big marketplace in Gong Bei in the area just off the checkpoint. On the second level of the market building, there's a big restaurant, serving dianxin (or tim-sum) in the morning and restaurant food late into the night. It is customary for restaurants in Zhuhai to offer 40% to 50% discount off the listed price. I wonder if this is done out of keen competition, but during my first stay there, my friend and I were given a 50% discount because we settled the bill before 11a.m. and we paid just a little over S$3 each for seven or eight varieties of dianxin, which I consider a steal, a price never thought of in Singapore.
But that was about three years ago. During that visit, I remember paying only S$7 for a claypot of sea cucumber braised with fish maw (or 'hua jiao'), both expensive items on the gourmet's list. The dish would have cost at least S$28 in Singapore. During this visit, the price even in Zhuhai has gone up to S$9, but the dish is just too delicious to pass up.
Another favourite dish that hails from my mother's hometown of Shunde (or Shun Tak in Cantonese) is the 'inlaid dace'. Cantonese cuisine has reigned supreme in China and many famous dishes come from Shunde. I consider myself half a Shunde original since my late mother was from there. Dace is called 'ling yu' in Chinese and is a river fish, that means a freshwater fish. In this hometown dish, the meat from the centre is dug out without disturbing the skin and is meshed with ingredients like water chestnuts. The fish paste is then inlaid beneath the skin and fried. When the dish is served, the fish is presented as a whole, cut into pieces with some gravy. Little would you expect that the meat of the fish has undergone such a major operation, covered up so immaculately by the entire fish skin. When I savoured it, I marvelled at the skill of the chef more than I enjoyed the taste of the fish itself. As expected, I never failed to order this dish whenever I made the trip to Zhuhai.
Dace is a rare commodity in Singapore, but is readily available from Hong Kong to Guangzhou. I first fell in love with something called the 'dace ball' (or ' ling yu qiu'), fish meat diced with mushrooms, water chestnut and dried orange peel. The dace ball, somewhat bigger than the normal fish balls, are boiled in congee and are normally available in noodle and congee shops in Hong Kong and Macao. This item is also available in similar shops in Singapore, but the taste and, oh the price, are quite different.
Another item which I usually see along the roadside in Gong Bei are guavas --- fresh, green and crisp. I've always thought they are from either Taiwan or Thailand, but they appear in such great numbers that sometimes I think they can be local. Unlicensed street hawkers carry them in baskets and sell them at 10 yuans for 8 or 9 fruits, very reasonable indeed. I always carry a small knife in my luggage for cutting fruits like guavas back in my hotel room. Not every fruit is as easy to handle as bananas and sometimes your stomach may not allow you to take too much bananas.
Zhuhai may not be such a scenic, cultural or historical city, but I love it for its fresh air and good food. I don't mind passing through it everytime I touch down at Macao. It's not as crowded as Shenzhen or Guangzhou. One or two nights passing through will not make one too tired of it. Zhuhai will stay popular as long as Macao maintains its stronghold as a stop for budget airlines.
Friday, December 26, 2008
On The Third Day Of Christmas
On this memorable day of my birth, I received two calls when I was enjoying my morning laksa at Amy's in Bedok South. The first was from my daughter, who's on a visit to Hong Kong, her favourite haunt. She likes places which still retain old houses. Hence her love for Hong Kong, Macao and Chinatown in Kuala Lumpur and her annual pilgrimage to at least one of these places.
A few minutes after she conveyed her pleasant wishes, another call came in, this time from a faithful ex-listener, CA, from Kuala Lumpur itself. I received his call with glee, consoled by the fact that I've made a friend out of a fan in that far-off stretch north of my hometown. There I've found more than a handful of ardent listeners who have a relentless love for songs popular in an era so distant and, yes, so discarded, like old buildings, by the young and commanding generation of our own island nation. They dutifully tuned in to my half-hour oldies programme and have made their presence felt by first writing to and then meeting the person behind the turntable through the decade and a half the programme was on air right till last August when the whole station was brought to an involuntary halt by people who have the power to do so.
CA came into the picture in the middle of the show. He started writing letters to me, giving me comments on the songs I've played and making requests for songs I've not. He impressed me with his knowledge on oldies. Songs translated from the English medium are especially his favourites. But, very significantly, I usually failed to get hold of records requested by him. I used to get very annoyed by this as I tried very hard to please my listeners, especially those who took the trouble to write exhaustively to me. It shows the wide repertoire he has in his memory and in contrast, the limits of the collection I have on hand.
It was only about two years ago that I came to meet CA face to face in the annual September gathering of the Malaysian Oldies Club at Lumut. The mutual sincerity was felt. A bond has been established with oldies at the core. The distance between my ex-listeners and me did not suffer despite the rather sudden closure of the station. CA is one of the only few across the Causeway to know my birthday which I 've always kept as a guarded secret. I did not want precious airtime wasted with a chain of names read out for my sake.
Just as I'm about to draw this train of thoughts to a close, I noticed several messages in my mobile phone, containing birthday wishes from Klang's CS and my neighbour, Darren. I thank them all, not the least my daughter, Olivia. It's great to have someone think about you in the midst of her vacation. I would never have thought of calling up someone in the morning of a foreign land. My heartfelt thanks, Daughter. From a pre-septuagenarian dad.
A few minutes after she conveyed her pleasant wishes, another call came in, this time from a faithful ex-listener, CA, from Kuala Lumpur itself. I received his call with glee, consoled by the fact that I've made a friend out of a fan in that far-off stretch north of my hometown. There I've found more than a handful of ardent listeners who have a relentless love for songs popular in an era so distant and, yes, so discarded, like old buildings, by the young and commanding generation of our own island nation. They dutifully tuned in to my half-hour oldies programme and have made their presence felt by first writing to and then meeting the person behind the turntable through the decade and a half the programme was on air right till last August when the whole station was brought to an involuntary halt by people who have the power to do so.
CA came into the picture in the middle of the show. He started writing letters to me, giving me comments on the songs I've played and making requests for songs I've not. He impressed me with his knowledge on oldies. Songs translated from the English medium are especially his favourites. But, very significantly, I usually failed to get hold of records requested by him. I used to get very annoyed by this as I tried very hard to please my listeners, especially those who took the trouble to write exhaustively to me. It shows the wide repertoire he has in his memory and in contrast, the limits of the collection I have on hand.
It was only about two years ago that I came to meet CA face to face in the annual September gathering of the Malaysian Oldies Club at Lumut. The mutual sincerity was felt. A bond has been established with oldies at the core. The distance between my ex-listeners and me did not suffer despite the rather sudden closure of the station. CA is one of the only few across the Causeway to know my birthday which I 've always kept as a guarded secret. I did not want precious airtime wasted with a chain of names read out for my sake.
Just as I'm about to draw this train of thoughts to a close, I noticed several messages in my mobile phone, containing birthday wishes from Klang's CS and my neighbour, Darren. I thank them all, not the least my daughter, Olivia. It's great to have someone think about you in the midst of her vacation. I would never have thought of calling up someone in the morning of a foreign land. My heartfelt thanks, Daughter. From a pre-septuagenarian dad.
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