Burnt Sugar & Cardamom Pot De Creme

(continued) Chapter 5: New York (2012 - 2018)

Sometimes, it’s hard to hit the brakes on your pace of life…

It was summer 2015, my business was at it’s peak, we were traveling a ton, we felt quite settled, and we were happy. Despite all this, NYC never really felt like home. People say NYC gives implants a 2 year grace period - once you’ve been there for 2 years, either you can never leave, or it was not meant to be. We had already been there close to 4 years, so we realised we somehow fell in the second category. We often contemplated moving, and discussed where we would go - would it be back to Hong Kong (as we very much loved it), or would we gamble with a new destination like London. But moving isn’t easy, and it almost always needs a catalyst. A catalyst were graciously given as I fell pregnant in late 2015.

We knew we always wanted kid(s), but having never grown up around many babies, I didn’t quite knew what it entailed. Plus, the thought of doing it without my mum was, to say the least, excruciating. But we were excited of welcoming a new family member - I hosted almost all the way through my pregnancy, and told my guests that I would be back to hosting 2-3 months postpartum. And as for being a parent, I was petrified of a lot of things but very confident that, if anything, I would nail the ability to feed my child.

Wrong on both counts.

Our daughter was born in June 2016. It was a lot of unknowns. A lot of trials and errors. And a lot of self revelations. The biggest being that I was not as patient a person as I had always thought of myself to be. And while I always knew I was a type A personality, I didn’t know the extent of it till after becoming a parent! Feeding a toddler has it’s challenges, and I suddenly found my culinary skills being tossed to the ground. It also took me 7 months to get back to hosting, and when I did, I burnt out in 3 months - hosting till late + barely sleeping to make it for the morning feed was a killer combination - not in a good way. It also suddenly became clear that we appreciated being around family, and wanted our daughter to grow up knowing her cousins and extended family - the push we needed to make our move a reality in the near future.

It was not all rosy, but it was eye opening.

I learnt that rejected food doesn’t make me a bad cook, or being able to finally get out for a ‘morning run’ at 2pm isn’t necessarily a downer. That date nights are so much more incredible when few and far apart, and planning a schedule only to have it out the window first thing in the morning is OK. That sometimes not having control is actually relaxing, and there is nothing perfect about any parent. That it is ok to slow down sometimes….

After summer 2017, I reduced the frequency of my supperclubs and vowed to balance work and parenting. I needed both to have their corners, but both to remain fun. The next year flew by, and by summer 2018, we were deep in discussions about moving. That was our last summer in NYC.

Closing this chapter of our life today with a dessert recipe that I often call bittersweet - quite literally as I discovered it accidentally when I burnt my caramel and it turned slightly bitter, and figuratively as I served it on my very first and last supperclub in NYC. And very much like parenting, it is the mistake and the measured in it, that make it just right.

And those tiny hands you see in the last pic, that are not so tiny anymore, are of that very baby girl who taught me to slow down…

Ingredients

1 cup heavy cream

1 1/2 cups whole milk + 2 tbsp

1 tbsp custard powder or corn starch

1/2 cup brown sugar to caramelise + 4-5 tbsp more

5-6 pods of cardamom, slightly crushed

4 egg yolks

1/2 tsp chai masala (optional)

Method

Grease a small non stick tray and keep aside. Add 1/2 cup sugar to a non stick pan and slowly heat so the sugar starts to melt. Do not stir it, and let it melt completely. Swirl it around once to see if all the crystals have melted. Increase the heat very slightly, and wait for the sugar to start caramelising (bubbling). Let it go for a few secs after the bubbles appear (this will burn the sugar just a little- you can smell the slightly burning smell!) and immediately turn off the heat. Pour it into the greased pan and let it cool completely (please be super careful pouring hot melted sugar out as it can cause major burns). Once cooled, break the crystals, with the back of spoon or a rolling pin, and store in an airtight container.

Dissolve the custard powder/corn starch in 2 tbsp milk & keep aside.

Beat the egg yolks with a pinch of salt in a large bowl, and keep aside.

In a deep bottomed pot, mix the milk, cream, cardamom, chai masala (if using) and the remaining sugar and bring to a simmer on medium heat. Don’t let it boil, and stir at regular intervals. Turn off heat and cool slightly. Once cooled, pour mixture slowly over the egg yolks, stirring constantly. Mix well, and return the mixture to the pot.

Now comes the laborious part, but trust me, it’s totally worth the effort! Heat the mixture on low heat, stirring constantly, till it begins to thicken. Do not increase the heat or stop stirring, otherwise the egg yolks can curdle, leaving you with a custard scramble. It should take about 10-12 minutes for the mixture to start thickening. Now slowly add the custard powder mixture, and continue to stir for another 2-3 minutes. The mixture will thicken even further and start to resemble a flowy custard. Do not overcook.

Transfer to small ramekins or dessert pots and chill overnight. Serve with a dollop of whipped cream, crushed biscuits or pomegranate seeds!

Polenta Upma with Chili Prawns

(continued) Chapter 5: New York (2012 - 2018)

Things always happen for a reason.

A motto I live & swear by. Every little incident in our life works itself up to a moment that’s just supposed to be.

In summer of 2014, we took a road trip on the western part of Canada. We had initially planned on going to South America or Japan, but visas and other complications had resulted in us looking at something closer to home, with easier logistics. Since Canada wasn’t out first choice of destination, we had been a little laid back in our research (which, for those who know us, is very unlike us!). We had seen a bit of the US and (ignorantly) felt it’ll be similar. But hey, the best experiences are the ones that are undesigned.

The trip did not disappoint, and every turn took us by surprise. From the scenery and hiking, to the people, and all the Airbnb’s we booked, everything was beyond expectation. Everyone was so helpful that at first we were anxious - I mean why did the young fella at the gas station offer to take our credit card in to the shop to try and swipe it, when it continuously refused to work at the pump. Turns out, he thought we could use a hand. We would never do that in NYC.

It was the first time we used Airbnb - little did I know then what a significant part of me it’ll become in the future. One such last minute reservation was at a quaint apartment in Canmore, near Banff. Since we hadn’t done much planning, we were booking as we traveled. Being summer, there was not much left near Banff, and we could only find a private room at this accommodation. Skeptical at first since there were few reviews, we decided to go ahead and book. The owner was meant to be there during our stay, but last minute he decided to go spend time with family, and wrote to us apologising that he won’t be there to greet us. We could have his entire place. Another surprise!

His place was beautiful. From thoughtful touches and a balcony that overlooked foxes and deer, to a running trail nearby which ran through fields (and we later found out, through an area of bears!), it was a relaxing last leg of our journey. One of the nights, we decided to stay in and cook. I messaged the owner asking if it was ok to use the kitchen, and if he had any basic spices/condiments I could use. He sent back just a smiley face. And followed a few minutes later with a note “Open the door next to the kitchen counter”. So I did. What lay beyond was a chef’s dream come true! A walk in wardrobe of spices, sauces, legumes and everything else you’d ever need under the sun to cook. I was a kid in a candy shop. How lucky did we get!

We cranked up the music, opened a few bottles of wine, and had the best meal + evening of our lives. My husband and I still think back on that evening with such fondness. A meal that was unplanned, but so memorable. A stay that was unplanned, but we wouldn’t trade it for any other. A trip that was so unplanned, but is on top of our adventures now.

Till date, we still refer to that meal as “Let’s cook the Canmore dinner!”

Today I share the no-recipe recipe of the dish I cooked that night - Polenta Upma with Chili Prawns - and remind you that one day you will look back at the most insignificant moments of your life, and be in awe of how clearly you remember them. Because, they were just meant to be.

(The dish itself is inspired by the famous “shrimp and grits” - a popular Southern American dish. As I love to do, I have added an Indian twist to it by cooking Polenta like ‘Upma’ which is a breakfast dish in Southern Indian usually made with Semolina, and served it up with some quick fiery prawns/shrimps)

Ingredients

For the Upma

1/2 cup Polenta

2 cups water

1/2 cup veggies of choice, finely chopped (I used carrots, red & green pepper and peas)

1/4 onion, finely chopped

1 tsp grated ginger

5-6 curry leaves

1/2 tsp mustard seeds

1/2 tsp cumin seeds

A pinch of hing or asafoetida

1/4 tsp paprika

1/4 tsp cumin powder

1/4 tsp turmeric powder

2 tbsp olive oil

Salt to taste

For the Prawns

200 g prawns, cleaned and de veined

2 tbsp butter

3-4 green chilies, finely chopped

1 small tomato, finely chopped

2 cloves of garlic, minced

2 tbsp fresh coriander, finely chopped

1/2 tsp paprika or red chili powder

Salt & pepper to taste

Others

Avocado, chopped in cubes

Sour cream

Method

Make the Upma

Heat oil in a non stick pan. Add the cumin and mustards seeds and let them pop. Once hot, add the ginger and curry leaves, and saute for a quick minute. Add the onions, with a little salt, and let them get translucent. Then add all the veggies + dry spices, mix well and cook for a 3-5 minutes. Add water, and bring to a boil. Once boiling, add a bit more salt (to salt the polenta properly) and then slowly add the polenta, stirring continuously so no lumps are formed. Continue stirring till the polenta stops sinking to the bottom. Reduce heat to low, and cook covered for approximately 20 minutes. Keep stirring the polenta every 6-8 minutes to avoid clumping. Add a bit more water if it looks too thick. Remove from heat once it looks creamy (a little lile porridge), but can still be poured out of the pan.

Grease a baking dish and pour the polenta out. Chill for 20-30 minutes. Cut into 2 “ discs or little squares and keep aside (You can skip this step and simply eat it warm with the prawns too. This step if more for plating, and works well when you are serving it as an appetizer)

Make the Prawns

Marinate the prawns for 10-15 minutes in all the ingredients, except the tomatoes and butter. Heat a non stick pan and add butter. Brown a little, and then add tomatoes. Let the tomatoes soften a bit, and then stir in the prawns. Cook on high heat, stirring constantly till the prawns turn pink and begin to brown a little.

Serve hot atop the polenta cakes with some avocado and sour cream!

Green Beans Sabji & Hummus Bruschetta [Vegan]

(continued) Chapter 5: New York (2012 - 2018)

As you can tell, I am a storyteller.

And my cheffing business created endless stories. That of a couple who met over a dinner and later told me about their engagement, and that of the chef who hired me for an event but disappeared without paying me, or of the time a (jet lagged) dinner guest fell asleep on my couch…But the one that I love telling the most is about a challenge.

Around late 2014, during my 2nd year as a dining experience host, there was a particular lady guest who wrote to me continuously for a few weeks, saying she had heard a lot about my supperclubs, her friends had been and loved it, and she had been wanting to try. However, she had a problem- she hated Indian food, and wasn’t quite sure if she should book. Baffled me. But I admired her honesty and keenness to try something out of her comfort zone. I had advised her that whilst I couldn’t promise the meal won’t have predominant Indian flavours, I could guarantee that it would be nothing like a regular Indian restaurant meal. In fact, that it was a modern take on the cuisine in the form of a tasting menu, and was meant to appeal to those who were apprehensive. I also offered that I would give her a refund shall she absolutely hate it. And left it at that. Two weeks later, a lady turned up at one of my dinners, and said she had written to me a few times - oh gosh, HER! My nerves wavered a bit. If she was indeed coming, I would’ve liked a warning (most folks who booked were strangers and I rarely knew who would turn up at my table on a particular night) so I could customise the menu. The chef in me gave a cry, but the host in me stood strong. I ran my show as per normal, hoping she wouldn’t gag or run out. Instead, I was delighted that she actually enjoyed herself. She did, however, make a passing mention that she hated green beans, and glad the meal didn’t contain any. I was both relieved and proud after the dinner. It was a brimming clean up session after with a fair few glasses of wine! Those moments after a supperclub were always full of reflection, calm & gratification. I used to absolutely love that ‘dinner-after’ feeling.

A few months later, I got another message from the same lady. She wanted to come back. And this time bring along some friends including her new fiancee. She was a convert- hurrah! The accomplishment I felt cannot be expressed in words. But I had a challenge on hand - to bean or not to bean. I crafted up a menu, greeted her and her friends and set about plating. The night flew by as swiftly as the wine, and as my regular tradition, I spent the last course on the table with the guests, asking their favourite course from the menu. When it came to her, she said, “The last one! the flavour was something I’ve never eaten before and it worked so well with the sticky rice”. I laughed and stood up. I then revealed, “That was a green bean korma…..”. She bowed, as she had promised she would for anyone who could ever make her like green beans. It was a night that ended in many laughs.

I have told this story many a times during my dinners. I love it. Not because it makes me proud, but it re-asserts that what I tell everyone - don’t be afraid to try new things, because you won’t know when life and flavours surprise you.

And although I don’t have that korma recipe today, I do have another with green beans. I hope that lady, wherever she is, will come across this and give it a try. To everyone else, go try something out of your comfort zone today. And fingers crossed there won’t be a chef lurking around ready to fool your taste buds!

Ingredients

For the beans sabji

2 cups green beans, sliced thin

1 medium potato, peeled and diced (optional)

1 small onion, finely chopped

1 small tomato, finely chopped

1/2 tsp cumin seeds

1/2 tsp cumin powder

1/4 tsp turmeric powder

2 tbsp coriander powder

1/4 tsp red chili powder

4 tbsp olive oil

Salt to taste

For the Hummus

1 can of cannelloni beans, drained

2 cloves of garlic

1/2 tsp garam masala powder

1/2 tsp paprika

3 tbsp olive oil

Salt & pepper to taste

Others

Crostini or a good baguette, cut into thin slices

Method

Make the sabji

Heat oil in a non stick pan. Add cumin seeds and wait for them to splutter. Add onions + a little salt, and cook till they soften and start to look translucent. Add tomatoes + all remaining dry spices. Mix well and cook covered till tomatoes are tender and oil begins to separate from the edges. Now add the beans and potatoes, and cover and cook on low-medium heat. Let the beans get a little tender and the potatoes to cook through- will depend on the quality of your potatoes, but approx 10-12 minutes. Remove cover, turn heat to high, and dry any excess liquid. Remove from heat and keep aside.

Make the hummus
Heat oil in a pan. Add the garlic and cook till it browns. Now add the cannelloni beans + all spices and cook on high heat till the beans brown a bit. Cool and blend smooth in a blender. Add a little oil to make smooth if the hummus seems too dry.

Put it together

Spread a little hummus on each crostini or baguette (if serving immediately, toast the baguette a bit). Top with some green beans sabji, and garnish with crushed pistachios. A crowd pleasing vegan appetizer thats so creamy and flavourful!

Masala Vadai (South Indian Lentil Fritters) - Vegan / Glutenfree

(continued) Chapter 3: Singapore (2000-2007 / 2008 - 2009)

I was hurting.

This was the darkest period of my life. After the incident, I moved back to Singapore to be with family, working a 9-6 banking job, trying to keep it all together for my brother and my father. But still hurting. I honestly don’t think I remember many thoughts or stories from these few years, and yet, it is so critical to think back and share some of it with you.

I was a project manager at a reputable bank - something I should’ve been proud of at 25. However, instead, every day I itched to leave and clear my mind, itched to heal, itched that it would all go away and be a bad dream, and itched to head back to Hong Kong - where my comfort blanket and then boy friend/now husband, lived. Every day I hoped the next day would feel better - mentally and physically, hoped my father and brother were coping, hoped I was being supportive enough, hoped that I would see the point of all this pain finally.

My father had moved temporarily to Singapore to be with my brother and I for a year. But although we lived together, we rarely talked as a family. My mother was the talker, the glue. Without her, everything just fell silent. Family felt like a duty, I felt we didn’t connect, and I didn’t know how to help myself or them grieve meaningfully. Through this, I tried to instil some feelings of ‘normality’ by cooking dinner each day. I felt that perhaps eating a warm, fond dish together would bring down some bridges. But I was too wrapped up in my emotions to understand that I wasn’t the only one facing monumental changes that no one dares to dream of - I see this clearer now. My father had been dealt the worst hand of it all - loss of life & words.

Through this there were two people in my life that literally kept me together. First - my boyfriend/husband, who despite knowing that he wasn’t accepted much by my father (more on that later), always had my side. And second, my university friend, G.

G used to work just around the corner at another bank, and was always there when I needed her. Like anyone else, she didn’t know what exactly to say or do to help, but she always tried. One of the things that became an almost daily ritual for us at work, was to step out for a late morning coffee + snack at a nearby kopitiam (coffee shop). It was the same - she would message saying “kopi & vadai time?” (coffee & fritter time), and I would say, “don’t feel like eating, but I’ll meet you for company”. We then met at the kopitiam few steps from my office thay was run by an Indian uncle, and he served the best South Indian snacks during the day - masala vadai, medhu vadai, sweet roti, curry puff, puttu and always a great kopi c (strong black coffee with evaporated milk). And almost every time, I would give in and eat. Talking to her, sitting there whiling away time, skipping work responsibilities, eating Indian snacks from a greasy plate made of newspaper, somehow made things feel normal. Unworried. Like nothing had changed. If only for a few minutes. Maybe because the flavours reminded me of happier times in Bangalore.

So, between G and my boyfriend, between the long and short distance, they looked out for me.

And I tried to look out for my dad and brother.

This Masala Vadai recipe is a thank you to all those who supported me when I was at my lowest. And the coffee shop uncle who I never knew, but fed my sanity and helped me slowly creep out of the darkness…

Ingredients
1/2 cup chana dal (split bengal gram) - approx 125 grams, soaked in water overnight

1/2 tsp coriander powder

1/4 tsp ground black pepper

1/2 tsp red chili powder

1 small onion, finely chopped

2-3 green chilies, finely chopped

1 tsp grated fresh ginger

10-12 fresh curry leaves, finely chopped

2-3 stalks of fresh coriander, finely chopped

Salt to taste

Oil for deep frying

Method

Drain all the water from the soaked chana dal, and grind it coarsely in a blender along with the dry spices - black pepper, coriander powder, chili powder and salt. It doesn’t have to be smooth, and some big chunks of dal that remain are ok. Do not add any water at all to grind, or it’ll break when frying.

Transfer to a bowl, and add all the remaining ingredients. Mix well with your hands till all the ingredients are well combined with the dal.

Use your hands to roughly shape into 1.5 inch discs. Do this with all the mixture and keep aside.

Heat oil in a deep pan. Once hot, slowly drop your vadai from the side into the oil. Fry till crispy and golden brown on both sides, and drain on a paper towel.

Serve hot with coriander chutney or chili mayo. These taste good hot or cold!