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The first vegetarian laksa I made tasted like coconut soup with chilli, not laksa. I thought I was doing it right, stirring paste into warm coconut milk with tofu puffs. It looked the part but lacked depth. Seafood usually provides that depth, prawn shells, dried shrimp, fish cake sweetness. I learned that depth can’t be…
I didn’t grow up eating eel. But I grew up watching my grandmother turn one thing into another — gluten into “duck,” beancurd skin into “fish,” mushrooms into something that tasted of the sea without ever touching it. Buddhist vegetarian cooking does that. It doesn’t pretend so much as it remembers, building familiar shapes out…
If you think eating dim sum is all about har gow and siu mai, think again. Authentic Cantonese dim sum is a dazzling showcase of Chinese culture, filled with an array of flavors, textures, and traditions that run much deeper than the classics. For both seasoned aficionados and first-time food explorers, venturing beyond the familiar…
It was the kind of evening where you don’t want to think too hard about dinner. I’d been walking up East Coast Road, the air still thick from an afternoon shower, when I ducked into a coffeeshop just to sit down. The Bullion Hawker Bar. And tucked among the usual suspects — wanton mee, Hokkien…
I came in from the rain on a Tuesday, somewhere past 8pm, hungry and a little defeated by the day. The fan was clacking. A queue of three or four people stood near the doorway, dripping. Someone shouted an order toward the kitchen in Vietnamese, and a bowl of pho slid onto a nearby table…
Let me clear up the first puzzle right away. The name “Isshin Machi” sounds unmistakably Japanese, and I’ll admit I walked in half-expecting ramen and gyoza. What I found instead was a Taiwanese kitchen, plates of lu rou fan, braised beef noodles, and golden fried chicken that trace straight back to the island’s home cooking.…
I didn’t set out to make a list. I made a habit. Over the years, cafes became the places I went to think, to wait out the rain, to sit with a coffee I didn’t have to rush. Some I returned to for the food. Others, I returned to for the feeling — the way…
The first time I made aloo curry on my own, I burned the cumin. I remember standing in my tiny HDB kitchen, watching those little seeds go from golden to black in what felt like one breath, and thinking: this is harder than it looks. But here’s what that bitter, smoky disaster taught me, the…
The first time I made chana masala, I started with dried chickpeas at 7:30 on a weeknight, soaking and boiling like the recipe said. By the time the curry was actually done, it was nearly ten and I’d already eaten half a loaf of bread out of sheer hunger. That night taught me something I…
The first time we cooked a full Indian dinner on a weeknight, the curry, rice, and raita felt like three separate tasks—three pans, three timers, and a kitchen full of wonderful smells but chaos. The curry was good, the rice sticky, and the raita watery from being made too early. That night taught us a…