Radish Cake (Trip to Chinatown 1, the sequel)

Not wanting to waste the ingredients left over from cooking the dish from my last entry, I decided to whip up some radish cake, also known as low bok gow and turnip cake (or oddly, some people call it CARROT?!? cake), one of the dimsum cart's staples. This is one of few dishes I could think of that share similar taste and textural elements with Kiam Peng and yet, is quite distinct in form.

Radish Cake was something I never liked. I remember it as having the vaguely pasty and greasy quality of candles. My mother used to get it from a specialty store when I was little and no one could quite explain where the radish is in the cake. After a little research, I unraveled the mystery (there is radish in the cake!) and produced a 6x8x2 inch pan of very tasty radish cake (,indeed).

Because I am too cheap to pay $20 or so for a slab of preserved pork belly, I used streaky bacon instead. No harm done, really. It was heartily stamped with the voracious approval of my casual-Chinese-cuisine critic, JCarlos, whose mother built a small fortune selling Chinese delicacies in Ecuador.


Radish Cake

Main elements:
100 g. Streaky bacon, chopped finely
3 pcs. Chinese sausage, chopped finely
½ c. Dried shrimp
½ c. Dried mushrooms
3 c. Daikon (White Icicle), coarsely grated
2 c. Rice flour (not glutinous, but the kind used for making shortbread)
1 T. Sesame seeds, toasted
4 c. Water

Flavoring:
1/3 cup Fried shallots
1 T. Garlic, minced
1 t. Ginger, finely grated
1 T. Sugar
1 t. White pepper
1 t. Five spice powder
1 T. Cooking wine
2 t. Sesame oil

Soak the shrimps and mushrooms in 2 cups of water until they have been hydrated. Set aside. In a pot, render the fat from the bacon and sausage pieces over low heat. Add the grated daikon and stir-fry until the daikon is wilted. Add the shrimp, mushrooms, and water into the pot. Stir the rice flour into the remaining 2 cups of water until smooth. Add the rice flour mix into the pot. Cook over low heat until the mixture thickens into the consistency of condensed cream soup (from a can). Stir the flavoring in. Pour the mixture into a greased heatproof pan and sprinkle the sesame seeds on top of it. Steam over high heat for about one hour. Remove from the heat. Cool until room temperature has been achieved, then chill overnight.




I think some people eat it steamed through (see picture on right), but I served it the only way I know how --- sliced into approximately 1x2x0.5 (WxLxH/Thickness)inch rectangles and pan-fried until crisp (see picture on the very top of this post).

Trip to Chinatown 1

Look at what I found at Yuen’s Market in Brisbane --- Gulong brand Pork Leg with Mushrooms! This nifty, nitrate-laden little package has yummy chunks of real pork hock (with bits of bone, too), along with chewy skin, mushrooms, and stewed chestnuts!

What I failed to appreciate about it when I was little was the fact that I’d have to cook for myself one day. And this day comes. Gulong Pork Leg makes an incredibly easy and fast Kiam Peng. ( I think it translates to ‘Salty Rice’ in my fookien dialect.) This dish brings to mind images of suffering women toiling slavishly over steaming pots and never fails to impress kids who grew up in their mothers’ Chinese kitchens.

If you do not have access to canned pork leg, you can use the real thing for this dish… just that the entire process would take longer.



Kiam Peng

Aromatics:
½ pc. Onion, roughly chopped
1 Tablespoon Garlic, minced
2 teaspoons Ginger, grated finely
1 T Oil

Condiments:
2 T Soy Sauce
1 t Chinese Five Spice Powder
2 T Cooking Wine

Components:
¼ cup Dried Shrimp
1 ½ pcs. Chinese Sausage (Lup Chung), cut into 1/8 inch diagonal slices
1/3 cup Dried Sliced Black Mushrooms
1 can Gulong Pork Leg with Mushrooms
1 ½ cups Sticky / Glutinous / Sweet Rice, soaked overnight in cool water and drained

Accompaniments:
Coriander, roughly chopped
Fried shallots
Hot sauce (I prefer the Sriracha brand; the original version of which has a green cap)

In a pot, saute the aromatics in the hot oil. Add the drained rice and the condiments. Stir fry over medium heat until all the rice grains have been coated in oil. Add all the other ingredients and 2 more cups of water. Stir well. Cover and simmer over a very low fire until rice is cooked through. This would take about 20 minutes. Stir the rice once in a while, just so it doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pot. After all the water has been absorbed, take the pot off the heat and let it sit, covered, for 10 minutes. Garnish with coriander and fried shallots and serve with hot sauce on the side.

Rice Soup with Shitake and Coriander-Fish Dumplings

Over the Lenten season, I have tried to replicate the miracle of feeding the multitude with a few grams of fish and a handful of rice (in place of loaves of bread). A miracle, indeed, for a big pot of hearty chowder poured forth into eagerly waiting bowls. Anyway, aside from being unbeatably frugal, it was quite a tasty comforting dish, esp. for those of you who are experiencing cooler temperatures in the upcoming months.

A caveat: What does not necessitate expense will have to be attended to with patience. Your efforts will be well rewarded, though, considering the meager investment of resources. Roughly, here is what you need…

Rice Soup with Shitake and Coriander-Fish Dumplings

To make the Fish Dumplings, throw the following into a food processor:

300 Grams of any White Fish Fillet (skinned, de-boned, and cut up into the size of ice cubes)
1 Onion (chopped up)
1 Tablespoon of Cooking Sherry
2 Teaspoons each of Salt, White Pepper, and Baking Powder
2 Heaped Tablespoons Flour
2 Eggs
Dash of Sesame Oil

When everything's a homogeneous goo, mix in a handful of roughly chopped Coriander.

Bring a pot of water to a rolling boil. Using two spoons, shape the fish paste into quenelles. Drop each quenelle into the rapidly boiling pot of water. As the quenelles float up, retrieve them with a slotted spoon and set aside in a clean dish.

Cooking the Rice Soup …

Depending on how much water is left in the pot where you boiled your fish quenelles, you may top up your pot with more water until you have about 1.5 litres. Add the following aromatics:

1 Teaspoon of grated Ginger

1 Teaspoon of minced Garlic
1/2 Cup of Sliced Shitake Mushrooms (I use the sliced dehydrated kind without reconstituting them in water)
1 Cup of leftover Cooked Rice or 1/2 Cup of Raw Rice.

Bring the pot to a boil. Lower the heat, and simmer gently while stirring once in a while to make sure that the starch doesn't stick to the bottom of the pot.

After about 20 minutes, when the soup has achieved the consistency of chowder, add approximately 2 cups of water and put the fish quenelles back into the pot. Bring to a boil, then lower heat and simmer for about 10 more minutes. Season the soup with salt and white pepper to taste.

* The fish quenelles will puff up to about 3X their size at some point (they will deflate back to their original size when they're tired), so make sure you are using an adequate-sized pot.

Invitation to The Makeshift Table

Hi. Welcome to The Makeshift Table. This blog explores culinary projects big and small, simple edible treats, and gustatory discoveries in Brisbane, Australia. Why ‘makeshift’? I have received no formal culinary training and improvise just about every recipe, kitchen tool, and ingredient. I am a very informal, and lately, lazy cook. I admit that this blog has been started as a mostly egocentric exercise, founded ostensibly (to myself) on the following reasons:

1. Where I used to concoct dishes on a daily basis; now, I occupy myself with testing existing recipes for baked goods. In a way, having a blog would enforce some form of discipline in the regularity (and continuity) of my creative process.

2. While trying to transition into an accountant in the past two years, I have eradicated habits that I thought were incongruent with the set of traits of An Accountant. I have summarily forgotten how to read, write, and hang out in front of the stove. I am currently in the cusp of my career and wish to resolve this crisis of identity.

3. My superlatively unhealthy relationship with food has forced me into a binge of raw vegetables and junk food. I rarely cook, because I hardly eat properly. In the past months, I have survived on cubes and sticks of raw veg, the benefits of which have been obliterated by an overdose of sweets and instant noodles. I do not remember having a decent meal in ages! I am ashamed and have finally decided to be reconciled with food.

The Makeshift Table is driven by nostalgia and wanderlust. It tries to recapture remembered pleasures or those taken for granted and will be lost if not found again. It travels over disparate flavors and explores the limits of parsimony.

Finally, I have set the table. Come. You are invited to The Makeshift Table.