3 December 2007
Two rather important events happened recently. One was that i got back my master's results - it was distinction. I say distinction with a full-stop and not an exclamation mark because I feel at odds with it. I've always wanted to do well academically and I am somewhat proud to put on my CV "first-class honours and masters distinction". But this only means that the pressure to stay in a 'proper' job only increases and this is in odds with my dream to venture out on my own to start my restaurant. My friend have told me that I can always start my restaurant after I ORD when I'm 42. But will I have the energy? More importantly, will my finances in 20 years time be healthy enough to support my dream? One of my previous OCS instructors, who is now in the restaurant and hotel logistics business, told me that a regular 40-50 seater establishment would involve an outlay of about $100,000. Of course not forgetting the fact also that two-thirds of restaurants fail to make it past their first birthday.
The second important event was the Christ @ work seminar held on 1 Dec. It was organised by a Catholic group called Praise @ Work who are basically working professionals. Lots of things went on there but essentially the message that got to me was to pray constantly and trust in God. It suddenly dawned on me that working adults are faced with an unsurmountable amount of decisions they have to make, whether long-term or short-term. In the end, it all boils down to letting it go and trusting in God.
Of course, I think for now the best move is to concentrate on the Navy - something which I believe God planned. My Foodie Dream for now? I think the guy up there has got it covered...
"For I know the plans I have for you, declared the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future"
Jeremiah 29:11
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2 September 2007
Yes, the inevitable has happened. I have entered the rat race. No I don't mean Ratatouille. I have entered the Singapore work force or more accurately, the Singapore Armed Force, naval component. I guess among the army, air force and navy, the latter provides the best culinary opportunities. Especially my new second home for at least the next 3 months, the Landing Ship Tank. International travel, risk of collision, free cocktails functions, danger of drowning, a kitchen the size of a one-room HDB flat, possibility of dying in a missile strike, and three SHATEC trained chefs to chum xiong (definition: make good friends with with an eye to them bailing you out of trouble in the future) with - and they pay me to top it all off! Taste, excitement, money and company - four ingredients to nurture a successful food critic.
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25 July 2007
It's been a little bit more than two weeks since I've arrived back in Singapore. Suddenly I'm surrounded by very tacky and cheesy government advertising. For example, Bai Ling Ge (read: bilingual -_-) is the bird mascot for the speak Mandarin (华语cool!) campaign. Another example, is one I've been seeing everyday going to the archives to do my dissertation. It's called Access to Archives Online; hence a²o, so it has the design of a canned drink bursting open with lots of stuff (read: H²O). Furthermore, I thought that since I flew back in a SIA plane which thankfully did not crash, SIA must be doing something right - like rebranding themselves, I might as well as rebrand my website too albeit on a very limited extent. And since I can't beat the tacky gahmen propaganda, I must as well join it. Therefore, you have The Singapore Slurp!
Why Slurp? Well, its the sound you make when you gobble down some Mee Pok 干(dry flat noodles) in double-quick time and when you try to sip up that last few drops hidden among the ice-cubes of the subsequent cup of Iced Milo. Slurp rhymes with burp which is what inevitably happens when you challenge your Mexican friend to a jalapeno v. chilli padi eating competition and mistakenly believe that Tiger beer will cure the consequences. And finally, slurp sounds like blurb which refers to a short decription or commentary i.e. the bread and butter of what flogging (food+blogging) is about.
On that note, I wish you good eating and good readin'!
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2 July 2007
My name is Lawrence Leong and I type comfortably here at my desk at 52 Woodhall, Robert Street, London but in actual fact I have just arrived at the crossroads after a long journey. After four years in the UK studying at the LSE, it is exactly one week now before I return to Singapore for good. I had sometimes dreamt of being a chef when I was young, not because I loved to cook but the thought of being surrounded by loads of food seemed comforting; for years I grew up in a house that did not believe in stocking up on food. I was forever rummaging through cupboards and rejoicing when I found that last can of sardines or that last packet of soup-in-a-cup with those salty croutons. During primary school, my measly pocket money could not support the gourmet bowl of fishball noodles. It was white bread with butter sprinkled with sugar. Oh yes, we all had that at some point in our lives. When my finances were looking up in secondary school, I was met with chalky "dao huay" or jelly bean curd and greasy chicken chops.
To make matters unbearable, my uncle (second uncle on the paternal side, thus what the Chinese would address as "Ji Chek" or second uncle) and his wife, Aunty Shah, would often bring me out during the weekends in search of fabulous food throughout Singapore - Geylang Beef "Hor Fun" (flat rice noodles), Bedok grilled fish, West Coast Indian rojak ('salad'). Golden Mile soup tulang (stewed lamb leg bones) - displaying that ubiquitous Singaporean foodie streak. Thus, I became the quintessential weekend food warrior, scavenging like a dog during the weekdays and feasting like a king on the weekend.
This process continued till 2003 when I obtained a desperately needed academic training award from the Republic of Singapore Navy to study here in London. I ended up in a dinghy hall called Passfield Hall near Euston station during my first year. The first proper dish I cooked in my life? The classic crowd-pleaser, "char bee hoon" a.k.a fried rice vermicelli, in December that year for a gathering. How I pulled it off? No idea whatsoever, throw in the oil, noodles, meat, vegetables and stir with a paddle like crazy while praying the bottom doesn't burn.
In my second year, I ended up living with fellow sailor-officer-awardee Yanjie and a Malaysian called Kenny. This time I was located at house 92 Swanbourne, Elephant and Castle, a rather dodgy part of town with a strong Arab and Caribbean theme to it. Living off our salaries with no allowance, meals and especially dinner had to be cooked. Yanjie first introduced the "1-pound-per-person" dinner concept - rice, simple vegetables, pre-marinated (i.e. unfresh) meat from the local butcher. Lots of improvisation took place since we were facing budget constraints. It was during this heady period that Kenny concocted his portuguese chicken. This involved what he called "raping" the chicken with all-purpose seasoning; seasoning under the skin, into the flesh, in the cavity and pretty much all over and then left overnight in the fridge. It sounds gross / kinky but it tasted awesome. Yanjie, not to be outdone, made his now infamous peanut butter lasagne. Why peanut butter? Well...It just happened to be what was lying around. Then there was me, being a twat, - going to the Arab butchers and buying weird stuff like cow's trotters, tongue and tripe and trying to cook them without even bothering to google a recipe. Morale of the story? If in doubt, boil everything till SOFT then at least it digests...
It was surreal eating at its best.
A real turning point came in 2005 when I lived till 2007 at my present location, 52 Woodhall, near Regent's Park. Equipped now with a proper kitchen and a decade worth of kitchen equipment left behind by countless generations of Singaporean students, my culinary fire was lit. Casseroles, stir fries, roasts, steamed items, raw sushi - mistakes made, lessons learnt but always more to know. There was of course the fantastic housemates I lived with. There was Guanming, who somehow tried to warp chocolate in wanton skins and deep-frying them - an accidental stroke of genius. Then Justin, who made the most amazing rocky road with chewy marshmallows. Not to be outdone, Chang Yate wisely invested in a fondue pot and a chocolate fountain. In my second year, there was Paul who made "sayur lodeh" (curry vegetables) from self-blended spices. Then Seng Teck, with his self-professed disdain for cooking, who faithfully followed this Marie Claire cookbook to a T. And there was Don who always had the good sense to rush into my room whenever something went wrong in the kitchen. Lastly, Pei Ying, my girlfriend, who once swore off baking only to rediscover the greatness of home-baked oat and choc-chip cookies, maple scones and panna cottas.
My food fetish also fuels another passion, running. I've run cross-country for my university, crazy mud-logged races just for fun, mountains and marathons just for the rush. Travel marathoning brought me to Paris, Edinburgh and Belfast. My latest race was The Picnic. Then I get people asking me the usual question, "So what do you like about running?". I'm always tempted to launch into my usual tirade of the dangers of being overweight, of how running improves the body, of how humans (like scientists recently discovered) have a biophilic syndrome which makes us want to clamber up trees (a primitive instinct to escape predators) and how the human is actually built for running. Michel Roux Jr., proprietor and head chef of the three Michelin starred French restaurant in London, Le Gavroche ,and an avid marathoner, when asked, "Why do you run?", simply replied, "Because it makes me hungry". I rest my case.
In post-exam June 2007, bolstered by some extra cash from working part-time in the school gym, pre-election PAP monetary handouts and GST off set packages, PY and I went on a gastronomic whirlwind tour of London restaurants before we left for good. We fine-dined at michellin starred restaurants Sketch (Pierre Gagnaire) and Petrus (Marcus Warering / Gordon Ramsay). We rough-dined at Greek cafes, Argentinian steakhouses and Vietnamese eateries. All spurred on by the fact that it would be a long time before we would see Mother England again.
So here I sit, at the crossroads; Leaving one life behind and starting another soon in a "faraway" place. In a sense, this blog documents this change albeit belatedly. In another, it provides a sense of continuity in my culinary journey. My dream? A restaurant of my own sometime in the future, after my 6 year bond to the navy. As Gordon Ramsay pointed out, two-thirds of new restaurants never make it past their first birthday. It will be a challenge. But if it ever gets off the ground, it will serve good, honest, high-quality food; somewhere you want to run to when the whole world seems to be getting you down. But for the moment, this little plot in cyberspace has to suffice. Hell, I know I don't have a nice macro SLR to capture the food photos, but I hope the words are enough to capture your love for food...
Hors d’œuvre anyone?
P.S. As of 14th july, Yanjie pointed out to me that his peanut butter lasagne was a deliberate and premeditated act. And not because he happened to see peanut butter lying around.