We met R for dinner last night and feeling bored with the same old half-baked "western" food in KL, he was game to try something new. It was our first time at Changkat Bukit Bintang on a Wednesday night. Is it always this lively on Hump Night or were people thinking the same as we did? It is the Holy Week and surely, one must have the conscience to abstain from all things hedonistic on Good Friday? And being the not-quite-disciplined ones, what we'd normally do on a Friday night would then be brought forward to Wednesday night? 

Confession: I was ready for some Torture Ribs at Racks despite having been there barely a week ago. But I think our pseudo-Japanese-Korean Ano-san wasn't in the mood for pork ribs for the n-th time. Just for the record, though - Racks is a great place to hangout with people whose company you enjoy. The only pre-requisite is that you must love pork. But what to do when you don't feel like pigging out?

That's when the next door neighbour comes into the picture. These two immediate shophouses are easily our favourites along Changkat Bukit Bintang. Time for tapas at Pinchos. Ano-san was happy to share some with us. Three hours of tapas, bread, cider and beer later, I told R that if we end up living in KL, it would be a pleasure for me to put together an evening of tapas and pinchos at home for him. "Oh... I will come!" he replied, nodding his head profusely. Meanwhile he should just keep his fingers crossed for us, this week especially.

So lest I forget - for future reference, with the freshest ingredients, no cutting of corners, here's what I propose:

* Aceitunas: marinated olives, in particular Kalamata olives (a tiny bowl for JL coz he l-o-v-e-s them)
* Gambas al ajillo: sauteed prawns with garlic, parsley and olive oil
* Pan tumaca con jamon Serrano: Serrano ham and tomato spread on toast
* Chorizo con setas: Chorizo sausage stew with mushrooms and potatoes
* Albondigas: pork and beef meatballs with thyme and garlic
* Berenjenas con tomate: pan-fried eggplant with tomato sauce and parmesan
* Pinchos de ternera: grilled veal skewers with mushrooms
* Pinchos de jamon con queso fundido: ham and melted cheese on toast with pine nuts
* Tomates con ajo: fresh tomatoes with garlic, herbs and olive oil
* Ensalada sencilla: romaine lettuce with hard-boiled eggs, tuna, olives, onion and tomatoes  

Let's just start with these ten with some bread to soak up the sauces. 

Ano-san bring very mucho sidra El Gaitero, hokay? And you pray for us also, hokay?

In the early days of cooking for The Husband, here are some of first things I learned:

1. Ground pepper does not go down well with the Then-Boyfriend. He choked right before my eyes. Not once, not twice, but till the very last strand of fettucine on his plate. It must be love.

2. The Then-Boyfriend's mother is a highly experienced cook, being a home economics teacher in her entire career. While most of us measure precisely when baking, my Maman eyeballs 100 grams of flour. You don't see her working in the kitchen often. But all our meals are complete 3-course ones.
 
3. Today's entry - Béchamel Sauce.

Put simply, this Mother of All French Sauces consists of butter, flour and milk. Depending on what it is used for, its consistency can be adjusted by tweaking the proportion of the three components.

In our kitchen, we use it for gratin, lasagne, croque monsieur, puff pastry tart - these are just off my fingertips. I've been putting off writing about it because I have not found a foolproof proportion for it. 

So why, then, am I writing about it now?

As I stirred a teaspoon of light soy sauce into what's left of the little jar of Maille dijon mustard, I was curious about how it'd smell: light soy sauce plus dijon mustard. That's me (Malaysian Chinese) and the husband (French) in the same jar. A pretty funny thought. But that wasn't what I was thinking at that time.

It is true what researchers claim: that smell can invoke memories. With the tip of my nose into that little jar, I strangely found myself back in my parents' home, as a kid with my three school-going brothers. (Our eldest brother G and sister R were already in campuses out of town.)

This usually took place on Sunday afternoons when Dad was in charge of the household, including lunch. *cringe* Back then, Sunday was a normal school-day for Mom. And she wouldn't be back till after 2pm. Dad would turn the four of us into a team of "house cleaners": the youngest (yours truly) dusts and wipes, the next youngest (S) sweeps, the next (M) mops. While the eldest of the four, R, cleans the compounds around the house (front porch, side garden, back yard). Smart Dad. He'd tire us out by doing the chores, and by lunch time, we'd be so hungry we'd eat anything. 

So what has this got to do with the light soy sauce and dijon mustard mixture?

One of the most memorable parties we attended in Singapore was "Dumplings Night" at G and J's beautiful home. Guests arrived as a buffet spread of mostly homecooked food was laid out. The plan was for us to have dinner then catch the World Cup 'live' on ESPN. I have no idea now which two countries played that night. But I keep a vivid picture of what took place in the kitchen: the huge pot of broth coming to a rolling boil, under the watchful eyes of G's helper. One batch after another, dumplings were dropped into the broth and we waited for them to come afloat. 

In my bowl, little bundles of joy sat bathing in ladles of broth, topped with a crack of pepper and sprinkling of chopped scallions. "Why haven't I thought of this? Ever?" This -  along with the pudgy frog that found its way into the living room, its nose touching the glass separating Fat Kermit and the elevated pool - brings about fond memories of friendships that grew out of shared office space.

These days, I make enough dumplings to feed a party of six. The only difference is in its shape: I find the potsticker-styled ones more versatile in terms of storage and cooking methods. Because they can sit upright independently, these can be steamed, pan-fried or boiled with ease. I'd usually make them while watching TV, arrange them on a wax-paper lined baking tray, leave in the freezer for about an hour and finally pack them in a few ziplock bags. After all, this is comfort food for me.

At the supermarkets, one finds skins in different combinations: white or yellow, square or round. My personal choice is the white and round type. The yellow ones tend to have this yeasty-factory taste or perhaps it's just me.

Don't spend too much time pondering over the names. Briefly, you want to use "dumpling skins" instead of "wanton skins". The latter is thinner and not as ideal for pan-frying. We are making these babies to boil, steam or pan-fry.

I find it somewhat disturbing but can't quite explain it. When we think about teachers and students, it is only natural to assume the teacher provides guidance and care for his students. In the context of Singapore's education system (for 2010 at least!), a teacher's role is best summed up in three words: lead, care, inspire. So on the same basis, we move out of the classroom to the pastures: shepherds and sheep. Pretty much the same, no?

Of course NOT!!

The shepherd's pie says it all. I'd love to elaborate on how the ministry of education in Singapore deals with "shepherds" who make pies out of their lambs but let's leave that for another day. But a little clarification on the difference between shepherd's pie and cottage pie: the former is with lamb, the latter with beef. Pictures don't tell much but if you have both dishes sitting in front of you, surely you can smell them apart.

If you're making this for the first time, just remind yourself this simple arithmetic: