Note that I do not encourage food wastage. What I have at hand are 24 peeled potatoes that were used for some kind of “peeling competition” 4 days ago. They were in a pretty bad state, with all the relentless peeling (some potatoes lost about half their original mass). I assure you this isn’t the best of experiences – I felt nauseous after smelling 24 rotting potatoes.

“If I had eight hours to chop down a tree, I’d spend six hours sharpening my ax.” – Abraham Lincoln
A sharp knife slices through potatoes as if they were butter.

8-inch baby on medium grain sharpening stone.

So I started out sharpening my (dad’s) 8 inch chef’s knife. 50 strokes on medium grain per side (alternating between sides in sets of 10), and a further 50 strokes per side on fine grain.

Nice and sharpened.

The dicing process

Looks like a demented egg.

The potatoes were in all sorts of weird shapes and sizes, so in order to square them off (make them into rectangles), I had to cut off more than half of each potato.

Cutting off the two ends (half the potato gone).

Cutting off the remaining 4 sides.

From here, just cut the block into regular slabs, then regular strips, and finally regular cubes. Sadly, I do not have photos for these steps. Once the potatoes vaguely resembled the shape of a rectangle, my mind goes into a trance-like state and dices the potato, so there exists no evidence of the dicing process.

However, instructions on knife skills can easily be found online. I first learnt from this article more than a year ago. Unsurprisingly, I have not mastered the mentioned skills yet, as I simply do not have enough opportunities to practice. I am proud, though, to declare that I have finally become accustomed to the awkward left-hand position that the article (and many other sources) recommend. Okay, enough digression.

Mountain of starch.

There you have it – 24 diced potatoes. Practice makes perfect!

10th November 2009

Take 4
This attempt looked destined to be a disaster. I intended to use Julia Child’s method (see “Julia saves the day”) to help the egg hold together during the poaching process. Then I dropped the egg into the basin while washing it. Plan foiled.

Punctured egg yolk, just like take 2.

As you can see, the egg yolk is slightly punctured, as I had to force the egg through a very awkward hole at the tip of the egg.

Not that bad huh?

It did not turn out as bad as take 2. So a punctured egg yolk isn’t that big of a problem.

Take 5
This time around, I managed to employ Julia’s method of immersing the egg-still-in-its-shell into boiling water for 15 seconds.

But it still did not turn out well. I suspect it may have been because I used a narrow vessel and less vinegar. No success so far.

12th November 2009
Undeterred, I poached more eggs 2 days later. Similarly, I employed Julia Child’s method, but this time I heated the eggs in the water I used to cook the spaghetti (in take 5 I poached the egg in the same water that I heated it) which is more hygienic.

20 seconds of bliss.

Slightly coagulated eggs = nicer poached eggs.

Notice that both egg yolks are not punctured this time (:

Take 6
Based on my previous experiences, the whirlpool was far from a good idea. So this time I just plopped the egg into the simmering water.

Poached egg taking shape.

I didn’t even attempt to shape this egg, and it turned out great. Lesson learnt: The egg is better off without too much fiddling. One should just leave the egg alone for a minute or two.

Yum!

Take 7
The moment of truth – have I grasped the technique of poaching eggs? (Okay I’m assuming that pulling it off twice means I’m more or less capable of poaching eggs)

Looks like a yes.

Take 6 looks better, but the aesthetic difference is minor.

Let's take a look at take 6 (right) and take 7 (left), side-by-side.

Do you think I’ve mastered the technique of egg-poaching?

When the water reaches a suitable temperature, slip the egg into the simmering water. Poach for 3 minutes, and remove with a slotted spoon. Drain before serving.

…but not in practice
Why am I not surprised?

Take 1
Gordon Ramsay’s YouTube video advocated the creation of a whirlpool that would wrap the egg white around the egg yolk. eGullet’s lesson detested the whirlpool. Anyhow, the only way I could find out was to try for myself.

Creating the whirlpool

The egg swimming in the whirlpool.

Shaping the poached egg, about 1 minute into the process

My first try wasn't too bad, was it?

Take 2
Observing from my first attempt, the whirlpool was a good idea, right? W-R-O-N-G.

Same technique, different outcome

My mom saves the day by frying the egg with soy sauce

Admittedly, one of the reasons of my failure could have been that I punctured the egg yolk when cracking the egg. But it is likely that the whirlpool agitated the problem, dispersing the whole egg.

Take 3
Unconvinced, this time I poached the egg without the whirlpool.

The outcome

Doesn't look as bad as I expected

This attempt utterly confused me. So what’s the bigger problem in take 2 – the punctured egg yolk or the whirlpool? But in this take, the problem is low visibility. Seriously. The water got so cloudy I was unable to nudge the egg into shape as in the first attempt.

Not too great a failure, but not satisfactory either. I’ll be back! (maybe with hollandaise, anyone?)

Not that I want to throw a party, but what beats warm melted cheese in crispy bread?

Saveur magazine says that “the secret to making perfect grilled cheese sandwich is cooking it over low heat, which brings out the subtle flavours of cheese, and slathering the bread with butter, which crisps it in the pan.”

Since they published this, I doubt it’s a secret anymore. But keeping this advice in mind, I grilled the cheese sandwich (with First Choice’s New Zealand cheddar cheese, $2.59/100g from Cold Storage) for 20 mins, as adviced. The fire was so periously small that I had to close the windows and doom myself to suffocation to prevent the fire from going out.

But it was worth it. Somewhat. It tasted good but was too rich, probably because I put too much cheese and butter. Anyway, enjoy!

1. Prepare bread crumbs
This was perhaps the most exciting part of preparing today’s meal. I refuse to use pre-made bread crumbs (and I couldn’t find them at Cold Storage anyway), so I made them from white bread. I first tore the bread into smaller pieces, and placed them in a glass bowl. I intended to use my mom’s “magic wand”, a handheld food mincer from eons ago.

It was working fine, until suddenly I heard a “pop”, after which smoke wafted from the device. Undeterred, I opened it up and checked. Observing a slightly aged electrical component, I was worried, but since the motor could still run, I continued using the device. Then the smoke came again. This time I was getting a little jumpy. So I decided to give it another run in the living room, so as to confirm that it could still be used. So I was sitting on the ground nervously, hoping it would last.

Then *boom*. What the hell. I’m quite sure I’d have no problem with grenades and firearms at National Service after this experience. Although the explosion blew the cover off, I was fine (thankfully). Not only did I have the shock of my life; there remained no device to mince up the bread.

As I have learnt, anything can go wrong. Absolutely anything. But you shouldn’t let your misfortune stop you. So I resorted to using my mother’s mortar and pestle to grind the bread into bread crumbs. In order to do that, I would have to make the bread pieces as crispy as possible. This I achieved using a toaster.


The mortar and pestle I used. Normally it is used to pound dried shrimp. At the left of the mortar are the bread crumbs, and above is the sieve I used to separate the fine bread crumbs from the rest.

Completed bread crumbs (finally). On the right are some coarser pieces, which I would use if the fine crumbs run out

2. Prepare the chicken breasts
The method I used to prepare the chicken breasts is similar to my fourth attempt (recounted in my previous post). But this time, I have some photos to illustrate the process. Before pounding, I halved the breasts, cutting in a manner parallel to the cutting board.

I used a heavy stainless steel ladle to pound the breasts. The cling wrap put over breasts are meant to protect the breasts and allow the pounding force to be distributed more evenly. I think it’s also meant to prevent the pounding device from sticking to the chicken.

After pounding the breasts, I salted them, after which I dried them thorougly. After drying, I covered them in flour to absorb any remaining moisture, then dipped them in one well beaten egg (from the outcome of this meal, I realised that the air bubbles in beaten egg don’t cause difficulty in adhesion). In the preparation of the egg, I added one teaspoon of olive oil to the egg, which was suggested by Escoffier. Lastly, I completely covered each breast in bread crumbs (which was lightly seasoned with salt and pepper), then laid them on a large plate while I made the spaghetti and tomato sauce. This is to allow the breading to dry up and adhere to the meat.

These are the breasts treated a la anglaise.

3. Make tomato sauce
I used canned tomatoes from Waitrose for the sauce. Most of the flavour of this sauce comes from the canned ripe tomatoes, so I need not add other flavourings. This is my mise-en-place:

Firstly, I seared the bacon with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, so as to obtain their drippings. After removing the bacon, I added the minced shallots first, and sweated them until they became translucent. Then I added the minced garlic. After sauteing the garlic and shallots for around 2-3 minutes, I added the canned tomatoes, seasoned the sauce with a little salt and oregano, then left it to simmer. While this was going on, I boiled another pot of water (with one teaspoon of salt), and cooked spaghetti until it was al dente.

4. Pan fry breaded chicken breast
I first preheated my pan, then added 2 teaspoons of clarified butter. When it was hot enough, I added the breaded chicken breasts, and cooked each side for 2-3 minutes. Unfortunately, the breading became a little burnt, but it adhered completely. The third piece of breast, which I fried separately, turned out to be nice and brown.

Final product

The chicken breasts aren’t quite white, but together with the spaghetti in tomato sauce, they still remind me of our national colours. By the way, the breading retained the moisture of the breasts, and the breasts were more tender than they were in the last attempt. I’d never imagined I could make chicken breast more tender than what I achieved previously. Other than the breadings being slightly burnt, and the tomato sauce being a little too sour, everything turned out fine.

Happy National Day!

Actually, that’s me being dramatic. I do wish to prove that chicken breast can be tender, like what the Westerners boast. But then again, my considerations lie on more the monetary side. Chicken is definitely cheaper than say, beef, veal or mutton, and therefore much less costly to screw up. And for a beginner like me, screwing up is commonplace. In fact screwing up is the only way to learn.

My first attempt at cooking chicken breast: Rolling it in ‘lightly’ salted flour, seasoned with freshly grated black pepper. Outcome: Note the inverted commas. Obviously the flour turned out to be too salty. In this case, it was a blessing that most of the flour didn’t adhere.

My second attempt: Pan frying a whole chicken breast, stuffed with mozzarella. Outcome: Too much mozzarella – it overflowed and burnt. Then it wasn’t salty enough, unlike Parmesan, and didn’t add sufficient flavour to the breast. Also, I thought that maybe the mozzarella, when melted, could make the breast less dry. Wrong. It was dry as crap. As you can tell, this attempt was almost a total flop.

My third attempt: Nestum chicken style (from my sister’s home economics lesson’s recipe). Marinated, then dipped in beaten egg, and finally breaded in Nestum flakes. This time I learnt from my previous attempt, and pounded the pieces of breast to even thickness. The pounding process, performed with the spine of my chef’s knife, was tedious as hell. Outcome: I didn’t expect the flakes so absorb so much oil, so the pan was becoming dry by the second. Then again, the flakes didn’t adhere, and when coupled with the lack of fat, the pan became a mess of burnt flakes. And it was far from being tender.

My fourth attempt, which I conducted today, will be the highlight of this post.

Inspiration for this attempt was drawn from the “Chicken Breasts with Parmesan” of “The Escoffier Cookbook”: Season the supremes (chicken breasts); dip them in beaten egg and roll them in grated Parmesan cheese. Saute them in butter, and place them on croutons of polenta (this part I skipped), shaped somewhat like the supremes and browned in clarified butter. When about to serve, sprinkle the supremes with nut-brown butter (I skipped this part too, because the decision to cook this dish was made in the morning).

Given his vague instructions, I decided one egg was enough, and that freshly grated Parmesan cheese was the way to go. Also, I decided to use a heavy soup ladle, instead of my chef’s knife, to pound the breast. I was done in around 5 minutes, with the pieces of even thickness at around 1/2 inch. This is my mise-en-place:

I first sprinkled some salt on both sides of the chicken breasts, then dipped them in beaten egg, after which I rolled them in the Parmesan, as instructed. Instead of butter, I used clarified butter. I used around 2-3 teaspoons of it just in case the Parmesan absorbed oil. It filled the whole pan to a depth of around 2mm, so I was safe in that aspect. When everything was sufficiently hot, I placed the breasts carefully in the pan, cooking both sides for 3 minutes each.

But not everything was going well. The first thing I noticed was that the chicken stuck to the bottom of the pan. That meant that when I tried to flip the pieces, the Parmesan got stuck at the bottom of the pan. In the end, most of the Parmesan failed to adhere. Instead, I was left with nice and white pieces of tender chicken breasts. In fact, they were more tender than I’d imagine. Very tender. This was the texture I was looking for. But the Parmesan was mostly gone:

So why did the Parmesan all fall off?
1. The chicken breasts were wet before the breading process. Actually, I did make sure they were extremely dry, but that was before salting the breasts. I suspect the salt drew out some moisture, which caused difficulty in adhesion.
2. I didn’t flour the chicken breast before dipping it in beaten egg. I read about some advice (online and from Escoffier himself) that flour helps the breading mixture to adhere better. But in this attempt, I decided against it, so as to be as close to Escoffier’s instructions as possible. Big mistake.
3. I beat the egg too vigorously, which caused it to have many bubbles, which then again hurts the breading mixture’s ability to adhere. I’m not really sure about this, but I’ll try not to beat so hard next time.
4. Maybe the pan was not hot enough? I have doubts about this, as the pan was really quite hot, but then again, I won’t reject this piece of advice.

So that’s all folks! The pan fried chicken breast has achieved the tenderness I was looking for, so I’ll work on my breading technique next time. I may want to try poaching though, but I’m running out of stock D:

In the toilet.
*Daniel Seetoh stares into mirror and makes hair*
Mervyn: “Why do guys make their hair, when the only ones who actually notice are themselves?”

HAHAHA

I remember in Taiwan, a few of us braved the <10 degree windy night in the mountains, sitting around stargazing. I was sure we could see absolutely every star It was so insanely breathtaking… I definitely miss those times.

I absolutely love scenery! Things like rainbows, sunrises, sunsets, starry night skies and fluffy clouds all make me feel lucky to be an earthling

It’s the little things in life that matter

I don’t know.