Some of my earliest encounters with biscotti were closely associated with work. The art of skiving, to be exact. It was not as blatant as leaving the office to hang out just about anywhere, anytime. My job at that time was to sell advertising space on the internet and, depending on the client's business, to push for an e-commerce store to be set up by the company I represented. 

The dotcom boom in Singapore at the start of a new century meant exploring new possibilities among small and medium enterprises for greater opportunities out there, despite not knowing much about the internet. It was my job to cold-call potential clients, get myself in their office to educate and close the deal. I use the word "educate" because most of my colleagues were hardcore salespeople. Hard-selling was their strategy, something I could not bring myself to embrace.

My sales director was a "cili padi" - a feisty, ambitious, aggressive leader with an insatiable appetite for sales revenue, attractively packaged in but five feet two inches. She was so sharp one had better not try to be funny, especially when one's sales figure had not been up to her expectations. Imagine your name on the whiteboard, with a daily, weekly, monthly and to-date (ie. since your very first day in the job) sales achieved. You'd also receive the printout every Monday morning at the sales team meeting. There were as many as forty salespeople, experienced and otherwise. Staff turnover was regular.

So what does that have to do with biscotti? 

I must be slightly over-enthusiastic to blog three times this week but since I'm waiting for a block of butter to soften, and that I've made something simple earlier on, why not? My schoolmates J and C came over for lunch today. Yes, schoolmates. But like what C had said, we were just schoolmates not so long ago. As the girls came from the office, they brought some savoury pastries - chicken and tuna puffs - shared over mushroom soup and lemon cake. 

When friends come over, I always worry about not having enough food. So for supplementaries - purely optional - I got some baguette slices lightly toasted to either go along with the soup, or for some tomatoes as topping. The Italians (and now nearly the rest of the world) call it bruschetta. 

Some days you just want to rebel against carbohydrates. After all, it's a never-ending unrequited love affair. Rice, pastas, potatoes - you love them but what do they do to you in return? What kind of love is that? 

Whenever I feel this way, I just run back to the open arms of proteins. You see, proteins give good love. They devote themselves fully to you, and shower you with little treats like crunch, fat, tenderness, not to mention the vitamins and nutrients to make you feel on top of the world. Most of all, they keep you lean.

So here's a 15-minute meal tribute to proteins. With all my love.

Growing up in a small town where the "town center" is basically a grid of five vertical streets with six streets cutting across, I remember when Kentucky Fried Chicken opened its doors here. Prior to that, we had at best, Chicken Delight, a lesser known franchise for fried chicken. And no, McDonald's was at least ten years away from setting up shop because the building it occupied had yet to even exist.

Back in the early eighties, all our birthday celebrations were dinner prepared by my mother, depending on whose birthday it was, with all the birthday kid's favourite dishes. The week before our birthdays, my mother would ask for our wish-list, not for presents, but what we'd like to have for our birthday dinner. Can you imagine what happens when you have six children? My mum sure has a wide repertoire of dishes off her fingertips!

But for my birthday that year, my parents decided to take all of us out for dinner. Where else but the Kentucky Fried Chicken in town. So it was really BIG DEAL for me - I think I was turning eight. So off we went - wide-eyed and all - getting excited at the slightest details. It was nothing like the KFC we know today for back then, disposable wares were considered luxurious. So we still had our chicken, coleslaw and whipped potato all served in plastic plates and bowls, with stainless steel cutlery.

The fried chicken was so-so. My mum could easily make the same with a box of Kentucky Fried Chicken powder. It was the coleslaw and whipped potato that caught my attention. How could someone make vegetables so creamy and delicious? Vegetable dishes at home had always been stir-fried or cooked in curry gravy. I'd never knew that vegetables can be so creamy yet non-spicy. And that bowl of potato covered in brown sauce, why can't they use larger scoops?

One of the husband's achievements of late - in terms of assimilating in KL - is watching Celestial HD channel. For the benefit of our non-Malaysian friends, Celestial HD is like HBO but only in Cantonese and occasionally Chinese. One can sit all-day in front of the TV watching back-to-back movies. We don't do that, though, because we don't have much time together during the week so TV-time is minimized. 

Instead, we regularly scroll through the channel guide to record movies which we think may be interesting. If there is one improvement Astro could work on, it is to indicate the main cast of every movie in the write-ups. Only on weekend afternoons do we catch up on what had been recorded. If we can't sit through the first ten minutes, the movie is deleted. "Next!...."

I am so proud of the fact JL has watched all three parts of Infernal Affairs. And by the third installment, he was able to think like a Hong-Kong mafia boss and predict what is ahead. He loves saying "hai meh?" ("really?") in various tones of speech: sarcastically, sincerely, comically. And he makes the hospitable aunties at our regular Chinese eatery laugh when he says "mmmm goy..." ("please" or "thank you") and "mai dan" ("check please"). 

"So who's your favourite actor so far?" I asked him last night.

Short of planting my own xiao bai cai and kneading my own dough for fresh noodles, it gives me great pleasure to say that I made my own plate of wantan mee. All within 15 minutes.

You'd probably remember my previous post on the effortless 4-3-2-1 homemade char siew, and another on what I'd affectionately call "my little soldiers on standby in the freezer". If you foresee a few solo meals ahead for whatever reason (especially if you're a SAHM, or when the spouse goes on a business trip), I'd strongly recommend that you upgrade your meals by staying away from MSG-laden instant noodles. All because eating without your loved one is miserable enough, let alone eating crap without your loved one. Instead, make the dumplings and char siew in large batches, preferably on different days, zero-pressure, and you'll have many 15-minute meals to enjoy.

I've tried many marinades in different proportions and finally found one that tastes just right. When I took a closer look at what I've jotted down, it made me laugh. There's a name to this recipe. I called it the "4-3-2-1 Homemade Char Siew". 

A few things to take note of, though, if you are trying this for the first time. 

Ever since we settled down in the current home, I've started revisiting my cookbooks and food-related magazines. I miss the days when I could subscribe the usual home and living magazines for what a cup of coffee would cost. And spending an afternoon checking through every issue I had, tearing out pages of recipes for that one binder I left the U.S. with. As for the magazines I had kept from our days in Singapore, I still have a few with me, looking as good as new cover-to-cover. 

Late last week I read the May 2010 issue of Food & Travel, and was very pleased to come across a recipe for fluffy pancakes. If you bake often, it helps to associate the word "fluffy" with "buttermilk". Also, there is no reason to panic if you can't find buttermilk at the supermarket. Whenever I needed buttermilk, there would be barely three or four cartons on the milk/dairy section. However, problem solved: to substitute one cup of buttermilk, you just need to stir half a cup of plain natural yogurt in half a cup of whole milk.

So on Saturday morning, I thought I'd make some pancakes for breakfast, especially since the husband had gone through an entire week without his usual cake. I've also learned that a stack of warm pancakes is good incentive to get someone out of bed. This is really easy as you only need a mixing bowl and a whisk. Leave the stand mixer alone.

When you are invited to any reception in Malaysia, it is common to see a buffet spread of local cuisine. This is not because Malaysians cook a lot, but rather, Malaysians eat a lot. After all, who'd want to attend some event if there wasn't any free makan? Even at home, when one is expecting company, at the very least, one should consider getting some snacks - curry puffs, assorted kuih-muih, banana fritters or you char kuey - since these are available as long as one's home is within civilization. Otherwise, one can consider preparing something right from the home kitchen. It'd better be really good friends who are coming, then. 

One of the local dishes which I missed dearly living abroad was mee siam. Yes it is available in Singapore but somehow, it wasn't my luck to taste very good ones. Besides, the Singaporean mee siam is different from that across the causeway. It comes with a tamarind-based broth and the condiments are mostly added at the point of serving. The Malaysian version is dry with most of its condiments cooked together with the rice vermicelli. 

I can't help but digress. Just utter the words "mee siam" to any adult Singaporean and chances are, you'll hear "mee siam mai hum" (mee siam without cockles) within minutes. It was the talk of the nation for weeks back in 2006 after Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong said it in his national day rally speech. Haters jumped at this golden opportunity to prove the disconnect between the PM and his countrymen. Someone plastered the phrase to Black Eyed Peas' My Humps and the Youtube video went viral. I think PM Lee meant to say "mee siam mai hiam" (mee siam without chilli) but then again, I don't recall people ordering mee siam that way either. Hmm.

So ANYway, I made mee siam for the second time in my entire life. The first being two days ago. I had this craving simmering within after eating a bland version of it a couple of weeks ago. You can say that my indignation drove me to it. So after some reading on the internet, my first attempt took place on Tuesday as JL left on a business trip. I had no problem having mee siam for a few meals. There was another "first" - I've never blended any paste in my life! I took it positively because now I can finally put my six-year-old handheld blender to good use. (I've only used the immersion blender and whisk components all this while.) 

It was also my first time using taucheo, preserved soybean paste. I tasted it out of the jar - it's really salty with a faint sour aftertaste to it. 

Taucheo reminds me of a rather cool ex-colleague turned friend who, in reply to people calling her, would say, "Yes? Si mi taucheo?" 

If you don't get it, I shouldn't explain.

Right. It's already the third week of September. Feels like it was just yesterday that we moved into our new home, despite sleeping here for exactly one month. The moving-in went smoothly and we are happy to see all our stuff from various countries - finally! - unpacked and forming our home altogether. 

We also said goodbye to some items which did not survive either the two-year storage or moving and shipping. One in particular was the iron we got back in Singapore only a few months before having to pack up. And since office shirts are of immediate urgency, we went to the departmental store looking for a new one. 

Now when it comes to investing in a good iron, apart from its weight (with and without water) and power (no less than 2400W), one should look for a high steam flow rate which is measured in "g/mn" (at least 150g/mn). Otherwise ironing would really be a dreadful chore. 

We spent some time checking out various models on the shelf when the sales staff came over to help. She seemed to have her mind set on Tefal over Philips. Ah! I liked her already. "Both about the same price. But one made in Indonesia. What are you paying for?"  Now I liked her even more!

So we chatted about some of the most mundane things, like why do steam iron plates turn brown too soon. The enthusiastic lady shared her wisdom.

"Oh! That! You tell your maid ar!! When she irons your clothes, she must not set it to the highest setting! You know sometimes maids have so many things to do, they think by ironing at the highest setting they can get the job done faster. This is wrong! Not only your maid risks spoiling your clothes, she burns the iron also! That's why the plate turns brown!"

The husband looked at me and said, "You hear that?". 

Our chirpy "aunty" was slightly embarrassed and apologized. 

That's how common domestic helpers really are in this part of the world. Everyone thinks everyone has one. Or two.