The Making of Cendol Dessert

When the throat is parched, and the palate longs for a sugary fix, with gobs of creaminess, consider the cendol dessert. This is also known as che banh lot in Vietnam. Both names refer to the squiggly green coloured crunchy yet soft strands you see in drink combinations all over Vietnam, Thailand, Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia - and in some Asian cafes in the USA, Australia, New Zealand and Canada. Once you have fresh cendol strands made, you can have a free rein of choice as to what you next add - fresh or canned lychees, cooked red beans, grapes, nuts, ice cubes or shavings, light coconut milk, gula Melaka syrup, bits of black coloured jelly from Asian grocery shops and more. (above) The idea is to create texture, variety and compatibility for taste, presentation and bite.

Cendol strands are made with green pea flour soaked for at least an hour in water.

Concurrently do set aside sufficient time to prepare the liquid pandan leaf extract.

This can be an involved process involving cut leaf strips of fresh pandan leaves to be liquidised in a blender, then set aside to be added with a tabelspoonful of alkaline lye water. (not more, as the lye water can be toxic in bigger quantities - lye is popular in very small dosages to be added in making Hokkien noodles and the like as well).

After an hour, mix both portions into a saucepan for controlled simmering - with continuous stirring and conscious flame size control - until you obtain a transparent glazed look and thickened shiny surface (above).

Always ensure not to overcook this resulting dough mixture.»

Now comes the fun part - with a firm but small potato presser, press the cooked dough mixture (above) through a wooden or aluminium cendol-maker frame, with quick short strokes into a basin ideally just six inches or 15 cm below and filled with iced water - this recommended distance will prevent the resulting cendol strands from becoming too long.

Allow for the resulting strands to rest in the iced water basin for around ten minutes.

Below, the gula Melaka syrup is freshly made by simmering the palm sugar cubes with water and flavoured with cuts of pandan leaves.

Above, the residue remaining after filter straining the liquidised pandan leaves.

Below, all ready for making the dessert combinations according to your taste.

Best served chilled and get the participation of your guests in making the final serving.

Thank you, Marta!

Singapore - Palio Restaurant at the Hotel Michael Sentosa

Scallops, prawns and tomato cherries under the dimmed lights for fine dining at the Palio.

http://www.rwsentosa.com/language/en-US/ShoppingDining/Dining/DiningPalio

What is a special treat to me has always been the Singapore Sling cocktail (above, right).

Basic ingredients are grenadine syrup and gin (each in half ounce portions) to mix with equal parts of sweet and sour combos and club soda. Top up with another half ounce cherry brandy and garnish with a pickled cherry.

Memories of Penang Present

Bungalows by the sea shore, beside an ever shallowing Straits of Penang and the larger Andaman Sea.

Bamboos, ferns, any plants with good foliage - they are all treasured in residential gardens

on the island, already getting packed with bland high rises, crowded commuter traffic on its narrow roadways and constructions made on recently reclaimed land.

The classic tiffin carrier, utilised to effectively carry hot luncheons, soups on inner bowls and dessert cakes, originated from both southern China and India. Floral designs were the norm of the day in the 19th and early 20th centuries before the outbreak of World War 2. Above, a heritage enamel version that has not resisted some rusting but which has seen more than its fair share of Straits Chinese dishes.

Above, taking a ride in the trishaw, which was once ubiquitous in most of South-east Asia, China and India.

The Georgetown version ( rambling along a Chinatown street with an umbrella for its rider) were used for short trips carrying groceries, prostitutes and schoolchildren. Now mainly treasured by foreign tourists, each vehicle provides a comfy leg parking area and reasonable cushions for tired bums. Think of it as a forerunner of today's business class seat on an aircraft, except that passengers are still firmly moving on the ground.

Fish ready for spice condiment stuffing, deep frying or steaming at a restaurant in Paya Terubong, near the central foothills of Penang Island.

A well preserved dark blue kaya (coconut-based egg jam) steamer (above).

The psychology of bargaining for tourists and locals alike at the

Batu Ferringhi night markets (below) near the beach hotel strip.

Above, two types of favourite coffee choices at the typical Georgetown coffee shops, popular anytime for breakfasts, snacks, lunches and suppers - the thick black version (background) and the ice milk coffee mix (foreground).

Live terrapins on offer at a Saturday market - I was not sure whether they were bought to be symbolically released at temple ponds or for some other purpose.

Singapore - Memories of Genghiz Khan

I had a fascinating opportunity to be one of the first visitors, together with Bee, to the Singapore Art Science Museum beside Marina Bay Sands. The anchor exhibit, on the achievements and legacies of the Mongolian Empire under Genghiz Khan, opened my eyes to many iconic items that are still used in modern society today. Whether they are skinned drums (above) or the passport (below), the exhibits reflect an organised cultural and socio-political forerunner to today's leading government structures.

Above, real armour worn on mannequins accompanying a stuffed and adorned horse.

The significance of the Khanate passport (below) could be related to its metallic weight and clunkiness.

Finely sculptured containers (above) still catch the eye of museum visitors (above), in line with the

sophisticated political systems utilised by the government of Genghiz Khan.

Standing On the Edge of the Bay

Walking with our feet soaked in the surging low tide, Dule and I immersed ourselves into  the night, as part of the calm ocean waters sweeping gently on to the shore at Cronulla Beach, southern Sydney, made a connection with our inner selves. The air hung thick with heat and humidity. There was muted laughter somewhere, and then once in a while, a liberating shout or fun scream jabbed the silence like in much needed relief. It was way past midnight.  Small groups of people could be seen through their silhouettes, sitting on various nooks and corners of the long sandy stretch hugging a wide bay.  There were even a few midnight swimmers, mainly party revellers and teenage groups, enjoying a dunking cooling time on the water near the shore. What a summery night.  We tried to check out the catch of a fisherman, but he was rather quiet and reserved, so we left him alone.

Back in Dule's place, sitting in the back patio of the family home, even on a rather muggy hot night, was reminiscent of old times I spent with the Subotic brothers.  Father Subotic was friendly and animated in conversation and  the pet, little Gingi, was getting old and frail.  In the car, Dule mentioned this time around about feeling rather strange, returning for a visit after a few years, about Australia, even if this was the land he grew up in.  Maybe Dule had totally embraced his new adopted abode in London, with so varied and different parameters - and the spaciousness of and apparent lack of people in Australia was a shock back to the future.  In London, he commuted by bike, faced more confronting temperatures, came across more people, faced up to more diversions, and generally dealt with more dynamic activity. Dule later said over the phone about going back one day to the old work haunts around Wynyard, Sydney - and that it felt so long ago, just hanging around there.

This evening, I felt rather out of place as well, but in my adopted land.  Maybe it is a passing fad for me. Working hard for most of the day in the office, without much opportunity to dwell on it, I suddenly felt a wave of lack of purpose, an apparent throb of the same nothingness, the same some kind of people ignoring me and the spectre of superficiality of things.   Once back home, to try to shake it off, I went through the motions of keeping busy, even if I was exhausted  with a lack of motivation. I vacuumed, I cooked and I instant messaged people on the mobile, even if it was a Monday night.  I looked for the monitor lizard that had escaped inside my house yesterday morning.   Still,  I could not shake off the realisation that I could not continue like that - going through the motions.  I had to re-inspire myself!

I thought back to that night standing on the edge of Cronulla Bay. It was magical. It brought back memories of a more care free time, even extending back to the heady beach days of Phuket, Koh Samui and Penang. It was a period of acceptance, of no unrealistic expectations, of enjoying the present moment. Holly passed me an article she wrote only last week, of always embracing fully, and without hesitation, of what life has to offer now, even if in a cluttered, imperfect way - no matter what. Even if I have seen and aspired to attain what can be otherwise, but have not. The salt and wind on our faces was not comparable to anything that I come across in the day to day routine.  It reminded me to just take in what was there for us.  And accept with gratitude the still good things that make me happy.

Like when I was pleasantly surprised as to how delicious the satay chicken was at My Lan Restaurant in Wollongong town, and if Dylan had not suggested ordering that , I would not have realised this discovery.  Another recent culinary delight and experience I had was by the river near the Kallang Stadium in Singapore.  Kit and Bee had organised a hearty seafood dinner along what seemed to be a look alike Brisbane River scene.  The evening was rather cool for an equatorial place and the company easy and relaxing, with Tricia and Austin as well.  Then there was the afternoon Alice, Ah Choon and their Mum invited a few of us to their residence for home made traditional recipe noodle soup.  We were just ourselves, unassuming and taking in the love and care of cooking from the heart.