Bak Kut Teh - A Soup of Home

I never met my cousin Augustus before till I visited Singapore but we bonded instantly over a shared age and love of food. He took me to the hottest club shows and the best late-night eats.

Our first early morning food adventure together was another Zouk club night.

After a Wednesday night of highly choreographed dance moves to popular 80's tracks (Mambo nights), Agus was raring to take me for bak kut teh — pork rib soup. I wasn't one to refuse.

It was also the first time I had a barley drink before (no alcohol). I didn't like but it's supposed to be very good for you.

But the soup. Oh my. The soup (bottom right corner). It's not much to look at but one whiff and I was drowning in a haze of meaty aroma that flickered with the life of a nighttime campfire. I slurped up the broth with abandon. And I wanted more. I was like the greedy little fat kid in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, except instead of a river of milk chocolate, I wanted to fall into this river of bak kut teh.

What does this smell like?

I couldn't stop gobbling it up, inhaling it, wondering why it was so familiar yet so different from the original dish. Then it hit me.

It smelled like Montreal Schwartz's smoked meat.

I was home at last.

May you live in safety. May you be happy. May you be healthy. May you live with ease.

—Philly D, inspirational hip-hop yoga instructor; and co-owner of Moksha Yoga Winnipeg 

Poached egg and noodles

Last week I went vegetarian. It was part of a seven-week yoga challenge to live my moksha off the mat.

I love meat — a lot — so it was a difficult task at times. While my fellow yogis sip on zen tea after class, I'm often found devouring roast beef sandwiches. The hardest part was deciding what to eat. My inner voice (or probably my devilish taste buds) would whine, "This would be easier if I could just have meat." But once I resisted my animal urges, I enjoyed discovering veggie alternatives, including the mix-and-match salad bar at Pumpernickel's featuring such delights as couscous, bean salads, and roasted beets.

My most triumphant moment was at home. I created a three-ingredient dish with my favourite Chinese noodles, baby bok-choy and a poached egg. I love watching gold spill out from the delicate white pocket of this unfertilized chicken spawn. (There was lots of talk among carnivorous friends if eggs are meat.) This sunshine-in-a-bowl atop slippery sweet noodles and some greenery is a fine meal for even my non-vegetarian days.

"Thinking About You"

Thom Yorke, your voice oozes every emotion I've ever felt in my life.

The opportunity is now

 

—Taken by @inkedfingers on Instagram

Toronto's very own Khao San Road

In Bangkok, Khao San Road is backpacker party central, making it a fitting name for the new Thai restaurant in Toronto’s own alcohol-soaked Entertainment district. But Chef Nuit Regular’s latest venture with her husband Jeff speaks more of wooden, mod urban temple than a 100-baht hostel bunk.

This Khao San Road evokes Thailand’s street food and teleports me back to my own Southeast Asia adventure, even with its contemporary white dish plating. Khao soi is a must: a traditional northern Chiang Mai noodle dish with tender beef cubes bathed in a tangy curry broth. More familiar fare is available too, including deep-fried garlic shrimp, chicken pad thai and daily Thai curries, all extraordinarily tasting of Regular’s land and love.

Halal devotees of the original hole-in-the-wall Sukhothai, beware: she’s playing with fried pork belly here—but to pig eaters’ delight. Opened for lunch and dinner; stand by for the Thai breakfast introduction, which is sure to spice up the city’s typical bacon-and-Benny scene. 326 Adelaide St. W., 647-352-5773 (www.khaosanroad.ca)

 Khao Soi $10: Tender braised beef with egg noodles in a coconut milk-enriched curry and garnished with crisp fried noodles, green onion and a slice of lime

Garlic Shrimp $9: Shrimp breaded in a crispy garlic coating served with a sweet and tangy garlic sauce

Chicken Pad Thai $14: Special pad thai "three flavours-style" topped with homemade roasted peanuts, dried chili and a fresh slice of lime

Gaeng Phed a.k.a. Thai Red Curry, Chicken for $12: The red colour comes from a curry paste made of dried red chilies

Yum Ta Wai $8: A salad of iceberg lettuce, cherry tomatoes, julienned vegetables, coriander, shredded chicken and a sliced hard-boiled egg, tossed in a sweet curry peanut dressing

Pad Kee Mao, Shrimp $15: Stir-fried rice noodle with fresh green chili, fresh garlic, long green pepper, bamboo shoots and Thai basil leaves

Chai Yen a.k.a. Thai Iced Tea $4.50: An infusion of Thai spices and black tea mixed with condensed milk (!) and served over crushed ice

Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity.

—Christopher Morley

If you are patient in one moment of anger, you will escape 100 days of sorrow.

-Chinese Proverb

Portuguese Egg Tart in Singapore

Do I really need to say more?

Singapore's Airport Food (and a little family history)

I spent a lot of time in airports backpacking through Southeast Asia last year. But the first time I visited Singapore Changi International Airport was when my Uncle Edward and I picked up my cousin Sue Ann and her husband from a short trip to Bali, Indonesia. (I arrived in Singapore from Malaysia by train.)

I never met Sue Ann before and knew little about her. You see, my Uncle Edward is my father's first cousin but we didn't know any of them until just under 10 years ago when they found us in Toronto through the Internet—before Facebook or Twitter was ever an idea in any university techgeek's mind.

My grandmother's youngest sister was given away as a child (they grew up in Calcutta, India, which is another story to tell another day because I'm of Chinese descent) and apparently wound up being raised and getting married in Singapore. Her family and ours always knew of each other's existence but just had no idea where in the world we were. When we did discover our families, we had a big reunion in Toronto, considering most of my father's cousins live here. Ever since then, we've been family. Most of my aunts and dad have visited and stayed with my Uncle Edward in Singapore, and vice versa; and Sue Ann travelled to Toronto for the first time in her life this past Christmas.

It may seem unusual to be estranged for so many years then suddenly welcome each other in our homes but that's the power of family sometimes.

I was nervous to meet Sue Ann, as I would be with any new person in any setting. But it's a particularly curious feeling when you're thousands of kilometres away from home and asking near-strangers to give up their time to show you around. Luckily, my aunt from Toronto informed me that Sue Ann and I had two brilliant things in common—an insatiable love for food and a high metabolism to keep us tiny.

My first meal with Sue Ann didn't turn out to be at the airport—that will come later—but the brilliant thing about most, if not all Singaporeans is they love food.

That is why their version of airport food would of course be this:

This is referred to as "dry noodles," though to me the distinction between wet and dry noodles was not obvious at first. In my mind, dry noodles doesn't come with anything "wet," such as a sauce. But in Singapore, wet noodles means soupy noodles and dry noodles are indeed saucy. It's inspiring how simple and elegant noodles can be presented at an airport.

 

I was also introduced to tea with sweetened condensed milk that day. I've yet to recreate the concoction since returning home (it's almost been a year now!) but as I read on a younger cousin's Facebook profile, "Condensed milk makes everything better. I think it's the secret to world peace."

Undoubtedly it very well may be—and the hospitality of loved ones doesn't hurt either.