The last time I made mee siam was over a year ago in Kuala Lumpur. Cooking local is the easiest wherever one lives because ingredients are usually in their best conditions in every aspect: availability, form and cost. I can imagine our American friends in Malaysia putting together their Thanksgiving meal - they'd probably gather all their essential ingredients only after numerous trips to different grocery stores. When something means that much to you, all the more you must be determined while maintaining that zen-like calmness so that nothing really gets to you. 

I found myself in a similar situation weeks ago when winter officially set in with low single-digit temperature (Celsius) everyday. There are at least three restaurants in Manhattan that serve Malaysian dishes, but every trip leaves me yearning for more as they never quite scratch that itch spot-on. I still drop by one of them now and then for some prawn fritters (aka cucur udang) which I lack the motivation to make at home, and also to say hello to my Indonesian friend who works there. We barely remember each other's names but can always pick up from our previous conversation. That is, me getting there in the first half hour of opening.

A firm belief of mine when it comes to Malaysian home-cooking, particularly true for one-pot meals that contain carbohydrate, protein(s) and greens, is that you either go big or go home. There is no such thing as cooking for just two portions. Anything less than eight portions is not worth the trouble, especially factoring in the fact that ingredients here in America are packed by default in larger quantities. Gone are the days when you go to the market and ask the makcik for fifty cents' worth of taugeh. 

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.

I was looking through some of the recent posts here when I realized the amounts of cream and cheese that must have gone through our bodies in the past few weeks. And these were just the ones consumed at home. How about the ones we have on our Friday dinner treats at the same old place!

Downward dogs or not, we ought to lighten up our meals. As in, no cream, no cheese, less oil, less fat.

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. 

The easiest way to pronounce this dish accurately is to be doubtful, as if you find its name so incredulous you think someone's taking you for a ride. And you think about the words "way" and "meow". So you ask again, with much caution, "Char? Kway? Teow??"

That's it! You've nailed it. For our non-Malaysian/Singaporean friends, the aunty at the hawker stall would be so proud of you. For the uninitiated, char kway teow (in Hokkien/Fujian dialect) literally translates to fried rice-noodle strips. 

Two weeks ago, I fried my first plate of char kway teow at Bayan Indah's beautiful kitchen. I loved that precious few minutes of frying in a well-seasoned wok, with detailed guidance from my thoughtful instructor Pick Shan. With that little punchy boost to my culinary self-esteem, I went home wanting to make the ideal plate of char kway teow. Ideal in my book, at least. 

So I wrote in my scribble book, "What makes a good CKT?" and here is a compilation of my thoughts.

Over the past week, I discovered the joy of Instagram-ing. And this was the first photo I took. 

You see, I've never had a smartphone until last Wednesday (10 April 2013 for the record). Up till that morning, I was using a basic Nokia C2-01 which has since been "demoted" to host my Singapore number, which in turn had been kept on an ancient Nokia Supernova model that needs to be charged too often. JL could probably guess it - the reason I've been delaying the smartphone upgrade was because I was waiting for an iPhone that fits my hand comfortably. And to hold a photo-frame close to my ear is completely out of the question. Samsung Galaxy users, what were you thinking?!

By Wednesday night, I thought, "Wow! I didn't just get upgraded to an iPhone... I got a new CAMERA!". Instagram along with its selection of filters is awesome under low-light condition. I haven't really played with it long enough - can one control the white balance on the iPhone 5? In any case, this will keep me occupied for a while before the heart itches for a new camera lens.

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.