Singapore squids in: Cereal butter style

Cereal butter squid madness

It's been ages since a post! As much as I hate starting the post with an apology...it is because I've been away in Hong Kong fattening myself up and eating out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And post dinner. And post dinner dinner snacks. And all the goddamn day street hawker snacks. Actually, I think the whole time I was there, I was never starving...but a constant 'I could eat' mentality. Half way up a mountain? 'I could eat'. Winning at the night time horse races at Happy Valley? 'I could eat'. 

There were a million and one dishes I wanted to take back to London and recreate. It's definitely my place of inspiration and I can't wait to go back. Another reason why I've been so rubbish lately is because I had some wonderful news in the form of a deserted beach on an island, my boyfriend, sunset and a proposal. (complete with a full stomach). I'm absolutely over the moon and couldn't be happier. These are the first non food related pics, but I just wanted to share them with you all.

The spectacular and romantic Turtle Bay in Lamma Island

Lamma Island sunset

Great stuff, now that's out the way let's get to the food. Because, let's face it, we could all eat. We went to Singapore for a few days to see the sights and we met up with some friends. We were treated to a brilliant local eatery (the best places in Asia are anything with pictures of the food, plastic chairs, maximum three walls by a busy road, and beer girls making they're rounds). We ordered another traditional dish called cereal prawn. Cereal?! Like cornflake cereal with prawns? OH YES. This was glorious - a dish which is buttery, fragrant, crunchy and sweet all at the same time. It is made from a cereal called Nestum, which is a light wheat cereal brand Malaysians and Singaporeans adore. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any in the UK, and so I've used oats instead. Slightly heavier than Nestum, I switched a few ingredients to make a new variation to better suit this instead.

Fujian seafood fried rice

A luxury twist on comfort food. Without being a total stereotype, I used to live off fried rice. It honestly was my bread and butter, especially whenever I went over to Grandma's house. No 'ma-ma chow fan' (Grandma's fried rice...boy was it a special fried rice) = unhappy, spoilt child. Especially if my Grandma would make my brother's favourite tomato beef. Yes yes, he's the prodigal son...but Grandma, I would still like your fried rice. We would dollop a load of ketchup in the rice (blasphemous) and although it looked odd, it was glorious. Little gems of vegetables, char siu pork and prawns - every little grain cooked to perfection and with the perfect aroma of ginger, spring onion and garlic wafting through from her tiny alley kitchen. If I had one last dish with my Grandma, it would be this one for sure. Will definitely put a post in for her exact recipe once I get it from her, but in the meantime, this is a brilliant (and slightly more exotic) version of fried rice.

The first time I had this was in a restaurant in London. I think it was one of those family clan gatherings and my Uncle shouted out for some Fookin rice. Ahem, what's that Uncle? No need to swear...but it's memorable Chinese name (Fukien..pronounced fookin...originally from Fujian province) all came handy when I wanted to recreate my version at home. The base is a simple egg fried rice, however it has a 'wet' gravy sort of seafood topping made from prawns, scallops and vegetables. No need for my tommy K to dollop in then I suppose. Substitue whatever veggies you want from there - and if you don't have dried scallops patiently waiting in the freezer for these kinds of moments...no worries - you can add fresh scallops or just increase your prawn quantities. There are so many variations of this dish I found, but for me I just worked with what I had available lurking in the cupboards and the Co-op round the corner. A complete meal in one, no need for any other dishes to accompany it if you don't want to. 

Check out those mussels...

The past week has been a daze, mainly due to my post holiday buzz and general happiness that the next holiday is only a week away. Last week I was in sunny Spain, in a little place called Tamariu, or should I say the Beverley Hills of España. We stayed in a beautiful villa, up in the hills overlooking the sea and ten minutes away from a beautiful town called Begur. It felt like the Cannes you had always hoped for...full of beautiful artisan shops, restaurants and people, and none of the pretentious and expensive malarkey that taints your memory. If you are ever out there, there is an incredible little beach called Aiguablava with an even more incredible seafood restaurant called Toc al Mar. GO.THERE. 

One thing which always makes me feel like I'm well into the holiday is how your view of food changes. As there were ten of us, (and a beautiful kitchen I could practically live in), we cooked most nights - fresh fish, mountains of Spanish tortilla, salads, jamón, wine...and more wine. We even attempted a cake without any scales (buttery deliciousness for your information). You have the time to cook for enjoyment, as opposed to scrapping a meal of sorts after work, and your whole body seems to reset and relax. It's wonderful. That is, until you leave things out on the table and go poolside...and a wiley gang of cats come in and steal your food. Bastards.

The summer hunger you get after swimming can only be relinquished with seafood and shellfish...and mussels hits the spot for me. I wanted to make some of these sweet suckers with a little punchy zing of spring onions. The bright and contrasting colours are inviting and you can pop these mussels in your mouth again and again, like munching on a packet of crisps. The sauce is a take on what the Chinese normally eat with poached chicken. But, I've realised it's just as tasty on rice, noodles and now as a dipping sauce for this dish. Try it out, mussels are economical and most definitely a crowd pleaser. Serve with egg noodles or even just some steamed mantou buns that you can find in asian grocery shops to soak up that delicious sauce. 

For the Langoust-ine day of the year: Cantonese langoustines with noodles

I cooked up these suckers on summer solstice this weekend, and what's great was there was still a lot of light to photograph these before they were immediately devoured. I don't know how, but the sweet langoustine always seems to be the shy wallflower of the crustaceans. Constantly overshadowed and out-trendied by it's siblings like lobster (beefy royalty of the sea), crayfish (punchy vibrant minions) and crabs (even those soft shell suckers have more prominence than little lango). Perhaps it has been forgotten and cast aside due to our malpractice of dousing them in batter and calling it scampi. This breaded ill fate has meant we've actually forgotten that langoustines, served as they are (i.e. not battered and deep fried to a crisp), are deliciously plump, sweet, delicate and succulent. There seems to be a large gap between the top restaurants cooking langoustine for a delectable (and most probably expensive) dish and the keen amateur chef or dinner party menu appearance...when in fact these cute little guys are so simple to cook. To eat, if their shells are on, can be seen as rather daunting (and with about a 25% yield of pure meat it's hard to overcome), however once you know...it's so simple. Twist the head, turn the tail on its side and press down till you hear a crunch. From there, it'll be easy to pull away the meat and peel the shell off.

This recipe normally calls for shelled jumbo prawns, but the sweet little langoes were calling for me - and it's the type of dish where you sort of have to give in to the mess and accept the glorious, sweet and spicy sauce drape over your fingers. If this isn't finger licking good, I don't know what is. You can, of course, take these out their shell before serving for a more "polite" way of eating, but I like the fun of just getting stuck in in a sort of animalistic way. Egg noodles are a great accompaniment to this - it laps up and takes the sauce wonderfully. Langoustines are a truly British produce, but we associate it with holidays in Spain and France. Having recently been to Salcome and experienced some sea-side delights, it's time that we embrace langoustines with open arms (and mouths). The best of a lobster and a prawn put together - who could say no to that?