Entries tagged with 'Singapore'
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Editor's note: Wan Yan Ling, aka the Grocery Ninja, is in Asia over winter break. She checks in with a Snapshots from Asia piece filed from the sweltering heat of Singapore. You often hear about turf wars in relation to street gangs, but here in sweltering Singapore, turf wars are fought by geriatric ice cream men jostling for favorable positions along busy streets. These men show up on motorbikes with dry-ice-filled metal carts attached, staking their claims on prime real estate. With a giant umbrella for shelter from the relentless heat, they display their waresairtight containers to keep sugar cones and wafers crisp despite the island's 99 percent humidity, loaves of cottony, rainbow-hued bread, and little Dixie cupsas well as...
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Photographs by Shimin Wong Most of us think of comfort food as fat food: creamy risottos and pastas, hearty stews, buttery mashed potatoes, mayo sandwiches, hot chocolate, cheesecake, hot fudge sundaes. In Asia, there are a host of dishes people make a beeline for when they get off a plane, return from grueling military training, or when they've had a rotten daydishes I affectionately call "a highway to a heart attack." (A straw poll will likely turn up "lard" and wok hei or "wok's breaththe essence imparted by a hot wok to food"as determining factors in succor-level.) One would imagine the ultimate comfort food to be riddled with saturated fat and swimming in carcinogens then. Interestingly, this granddaddy of...
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Photographs by Shimin Wong I was not a picky eater growing up and would obligingly down the chewy offal; floppy sprouts; and sea sweet, still-bloody cockles my mom, grandma, and various aunties would spoon me. So it was only a few years later, when my fussy-pants baby brother came along, that food got cutefancy shapes and unnatural colors cute. Octopus wieners and smiley-faced hard-boiled eggs cute. Whereas I had been perfectly content with standard-issue oblong crackers, my brother would wail and fling and let no crumb pass his lips that was not distractingly shaped. It was a completely unfair situationespecially since I was deemed a big girl by then, too old to eat "baby food"as only he got the...
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We like crisp bits, no matter if they appear in sa po fan, donabe-taki, or dolsot bibimbap, Photograph by Shimin Wong A dish you will find in various guises all over Asia, claypot rice is at its most basicrice cooked lovingly in a vessel over an open flame. Now, I know what you're thinking. And, no, it's not just rice. In a forum populated with dotty food lovers, it's important to be specific, and what I'm raving about here is what the Japanese call okogethe nutty, slightly charred crust of grains that sit on the bottom and sides of the pot. Okoge have been known to inspire fierce paeans and ferocious fork battles among otherwise easy-going makan khakis (Singlish...
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Photograph by Shimin Wong This delectable little morsel is a chwee kueh, or "water cake." A popular breakfast item in Singapore, it may not sound terribly appetizing (or plausible), but for most locals, the thought of sinking their teeth into these gems is enough to make mouths water. They're made from a mix of one part rice flour to almost five parts waterhence the name. Steamed in shallow aluminum cups that look like tiny flying saucers, the "cakes" themselves are bland, but the best will boast an incredibly soft yet dense texture and yield effortlessly to the bite. They are then topped with sweet-salty chye por (preserved radish), which have been bronzed in a generous amount of lard, along...
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When the weather’s sweltering and you’ve got beads—no, rivulets—of perspiration trickling down your limbs and the sun dazzles so you could almost swear the air is shimmering, most people lose their appetite for "real food." They slurp ice pops, dive into bowls of ice cream, down milk shakes, attend fro-yo socials, stick their heads in refrigerators when the environmental police are not looking, and plot escapes to air-conditioned havens. Here in Southeast Asia, where the weather’s like that, oh, pretty much all the time, and where women are commonly seen drawing lines through their food before digging in (dieters generally eat half a portion of what’s already half to a third of an average American serving), such calorie bombs are...
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Photographs by Shimin Wong It’s been called “God’s gift to vegans” by devotees who love its naturally rich, creamy texture and pronounced bittersweet flavor. It’s also been accused of reeking of stale gym socks, sewage, and onions (all at once) and is persona non grata on public transport. Locals have a healthy respect for it—those spikes are sharp and will draw blood! And no one really dares test the myth that chasing it with alcohol will cause one’s bowels to explode. Since the durian, this “king of fruits” has been much written about, along with its “queen," the mangosteen, I won't dwell on how, like grapes, they come in different varietals, with "aficionados" assessing them the way wine connoisseurs...
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In Singapore, to chope something is roughly the equivalent of "I bag this!" or "I've got dibs!" Growing up, my brother and I would race to the family sedan, competing to slap our palms against the front passenger’s seat window—the first to get there and hence winner would yell chope! loud and clear, thus claiming his “prize” for the road trip. Chope is also a talisman of sorts to ward off “evil”: in grown-up terms, whoever yells chope last gets to inform the boss of the firm’s budget deficit. In this case, what looks like an innocuous pack of tissues on a hawker center or food court stool is actually shorthand for “Chope! This seat is taken!” Bewildered tourists have...
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This is a C grade. But not just any C grade. This is a C grade issued by a Singaporean Ministry of Health official to a none-too-hygienic food hawker. A nationwide scheme introduced in 1997 to “enable consumers to make informed choices of the food outlets they want to patronize," hawkers here in Singapore are required to display their cleanliness grades prominently beneath their signage. A C grade is "average," with only a D grade, "below average," worse than it. You would assume that in a country as notoriously perfectionist as Singapore, a lousy grade would doom a stall—customers would shun it, suppliers would not want to be associated with it, the sky would fall down, that sort of thing....
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This is how we like our coffee in Singapore: sans violence. The Chinese-Singaporeans have a phrase, sha ren fang huo, which pretty much means "to murder, pillage, rape, and set fire to" (actually, just literally the first and last, but you get my drift). It’s the kind of thing we say at the Starbucks counter when the grinning teenage barista cheerfully demands all the change in your wallet, pockets, and nether bag regions—and your first-born child to boot. Mostly because we’re utterly spoiled when it comes to the almighty bean, with the average triple-shot cappuccino costing 40¢—and that, for comparison, is in a country where a can of soda costs 75¢. Of course, the average Singaporean wouldn’t know the difference...
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