The Making of Fujian Har Mee Yoke

Hokkien mee, or har mee or mee yoke, all refer to a much beloved dish that depends so much on the inherent quality of a great stock soup (image below). The prawns or shrimps (har) must be fresh, have a zesty bite to the taste and are used, not just as an ingredient in the finished product to serve, but also in contributing to the nuances of the soup. The mee refers to the noodles of your choice (above image) but they do affect the overall experience (for example, slurpiness like in eating ramen, or a different texture, as in pasta). The yoke are the thinly cut slices of pork rib meat, with some layer of fat, essential to the aroma and wholesomeness of this dish.

A favourite of southern Chinese street food, and also in South-east Asia, is the use of deep fried shallots or cut onion rings (below) to accompany the har mee yoke. All images here were taken at the kitchen of Susan and Boo Ann Yap in Carlingford, Sydney, in a joint cooking session with one of my cousins, Mu Lan.

The quality, intensity and texture of the chili paste (picture below) results from carefully selecting the type of chilies, plus the addition of garlic and shallots to taste.

Suggested Recipe, from RasaMalaysia:

Soup Stock ingredients:
1 ziplock bag of shrimp heads and shells (I used Ziplock Easy Zipper Bag)

15 cups of water (reduced to about 12-13 cups of water after hours of boiling and simmering)

2-3 pieces of rock sugar (about the size of a small ping pong ball) or to taste

1.5 lbs of pork ribs (cut into pieces)

Salt to taste

Chili Paste:
30 dried chilies (de-seeded and soaked to soften)

10 shallots (peeled)

5 cloves garlic (peeled)

2 tablespoons of water

Other Ingredients Required:

6 tablespoons of cooking oil
1 pound of yellow noodles or mee (scalded)

1 pack of rice vermicelli (scalded)

Some kangkong or water convolvulus (scalded)

Some bean sprouts (scalded)

Toppings:
1/2 pound of lean pork meat (boiled and sliced thinly)

1/2 pound shrimp or prawns (shelled and de-veined)

6 hard-boiled eggs (shelled and quartered)

Some fried shallot crisps

Method and Approach:

Blend the chili paste ingredients with a mini food processor until they are finely ground and well blended.

Heat up the wok and add cooking oil.

Stir fry the chili paste for 5 minutes. Dish up and set aside.

On the same wok (unwashed), add in a little oil and cook the shrimp topping. Add in a little chili paste, sugar, and salt. Pan-fried the shrimp until they are slightly burned. Dish up, let cool and sliced them into halves.

Add 15 cups of water into a pot and bring it to boil.

Add in all the shrimp or prawn heads and shell and simmer on low heat for about 2 hours or longer, until the stock becomes cloudy and tastes really prawny.

Strain the stock through sieve and transfer the stock into another pot. Discard the prawn or shrimp heads and shells. Scoop up and discard the orange coloured “foam” forming at the top of the stock.

Bring the stock to boil again and add in half of the chili paste. You can add more chili paste if you like it spicier.

Add in the pork ribs and continue to boil in low heat for another 1-1.5 hour until the pork ribs are thoroughly cooked.

Add rock sugar and salt/fish sauce to taste.

To Serve:

To serve, place a portion of yellow noodles, rice vermicelli, water convolvulus and bean sprouts in a bowl. Ladle the hot stock over. If desired, add a few pieces of pork ribs. Top up with meat slices, sliced shrimp, hard boiled egg quarters - and sprinkle with shallot crisps.

Serve immediately with more chili paste to taste.

Cook’s notes:
Traditionally, the prawn or shrimp heads and shells are stir-fried with oil until aromatic before adding them into the boiling water.
The hawkers in Penang also blended the prawn or shrimp heads and shells after they are briefly boiled to extract all the flavors from the shell.

Tastes of Shanghai and Jogjakarta

"Dan dan noodles" I read, and that menu item caught my eye. I was initially wary of such noodles; in the past, my experience of them had been bland. Then I recalled that they can be freshly made, as an alternative to the packaged versions you find in Asian groceries all around the world. My group of six went for it. When the noodles arrived at our table in a piping hot bowl, the noodles proved al dente and the accompanying soup, ala Shanghai, was chili hot enough to refresh ,but not overwhelmingly so.

We were in A Taste of Shanghai, which has outlets in both Eastwood and Chatswood, northern suburbs of the greater Sydney area. The Eastwood joint was a busy place that evening, but poor engagement with customers by its staff members, who were not very well trained in handling queues of waiting and hungry diners, did not help. Nevertheless the food made up for this initial teething matter. I was satisfied with the key dishes chosen -
twice cooked pork belly; man tou buns served with a relish; and the deep fried barramundi, done in sweet and sour gravy. The place was, as expected, noisy, but not reflective of mainstream Australian society, in that most diners were of Chinese origin.

South of the Sydney Harbour Bridge, Hui's Mum, Mu Lan, had just arrived at the domestic airport, from Melbourne. I could not resist taking the opportunity for the three of us to try out Ayam Goreng 99, located along Anzac Parade in Kingsford, about fifteen minutes drive from the airport. Run by Indonesian Chinese from Java, its signature dishes are both grilled and roasted chicken (wings, breasts, thighs and so forth). I singled out the satay to taste, but the skewers came served with a peanut butter concoction, and not with the lemon grass flavoured peanuty sauce available in Malaysia. Also disappointing were the ice durian and coconut juice flavoured drinks, a far cry from what is served at the joints along Liang Seah Street in the Bugis precinct of Singapore.

The belacan kangkong is recommended. The spinach was sweet and lightly stir fried, with the chili and dried shrimp condiment not overpowering. I was eyeing the bakmie, equivalent to the egg noodles of south China garnished with meat slices and aromatic ingredients. Instead we ordered the fried rice special (nasi goreng in Indonesian), which was thoroughly made with the right amount of wok heat, intense sauce and a topping of an egg omelette.

The Art of Apparently Doing Nothing

When I do not know what to do.
This is comparable to standing at a five ways road junction and trying to figure out how to best handle the situation. I allow myself time - and enjoy the leisure of seemingly not reacting. My sub-conscious loves such opportunities - and provide better solutions and outcomes later from such scenarios.

When I am in denial.
Call it information overload, or sorting the variables before I recognise the cause and impact of things. This syndrome is perhaps best illustrated by the classic scene from a movie that's almost 80 years old - Gone With The Wind, based on the Margaret Mitchell bestseller novel. The housekeeper, in shock at the reality of impending childbirth for her Ma'am, walks away in a non-chalant manner and whistles. This is her personal way of coping with shock - and denial.

When I do deserve a break from the mundane.
I recall Friday afternoons after school, when the tyranny of commitment, structure and need to achieve dissolves in demand and urgency, when I can enjoy teenage hood and can hang out with mates. Things are unplanned and yet enjoyable. So it does not mean that my mates and I are not doing anything, we just reckon we do not have to worry about it, but just follow our hearts and inklings to fill in the magical hours at the start of a weekend.

When I do not need to do anything.
Have you had such hallmark moments, when the stars, Earth, Sun and Moon seem to come in perfect alignment? You can also say mate, family, boss and return on investments. It may seem remarkable, or coincidental, but guess what - you have worked yourself to deserve such a significantly positive dimension. What a sweet spot!

When I ride the wave.
There are occasions to harness the wind, the current or the flow set by external factors and beyond your control. This can be getting into the gravy train when the price is low, when there is a so-called window 0f opportunity or when an incentive or exemption can be utilised to your advantage. Enjoy the ride, but have an exit strategy and approach, just in case the wave goes down and the lollies stop coming.

When my reputation does it for me.
Increasingly, society and business thrives on speculation, perception and the value of intangibles.
The media, governments, religious groups, entertainment events and pricing systems depends on reputation. So should the individual, but definitely in a positive way, to bring more energy nurturing people, optimal thinking and personal growth your way.

When I download from cyberspace.
After one click, I can go to sleep and everything I expect is ready to roll the next morning.

When I procrastinate.
This can be a sub-set of denial, or not knowing what to do next. This can be after having a set of plans and then not making a decision. This can be after making an effective decision and then facing implementation roadblocks. This can result from being distracted and not focusing on the present. This can simply be a personal habit. Procrastination can have varying consequences - putting the matter on the proverbial shelf forever; re-visiting it later, with a better mindset; or just not achieving anything - or simply nothing.

Riverside Lunch at Woolwich, NSW

The Woolwich Deckhouse Cafe promotes itself as providing 'ideal location, ideal service and ideal venue". Located on sleepy banks between the Lane Cove and Parramatta Rivers, the cafe has high ceilings, a modern outfit, timber floorings and all round glass doors/windows. I found the rack of pesto crusted lamb (above image) refreshing to my appetite and taste buds. Open only for breakfast and lunch, it is best to park your vehicle before getting the opportunity to stroll down hill to its water side location at the tail end of Clarke Road. It was almost full house when my group dug into our leisurely meal one weekend afternoon.

Presentation is the icing on the cake to a well cooked meal. Above, the chocolate fondant served with a honeycomb and ice cream, looks pretty itself, at least before consuming it. The waiter at our table was attentive, discreet and timely looking after our needs that day. Below, the petits fours - with Scottish shortbread, macaroon, chocolate truffle and brownie - served as a conversation piece and closer to a relaxing lunch with mates.

More views of my rack of lamb (above and below), before I tackled the dish and savoured its garnishings of sebago mash and primary servings bathed in mint oil and red wine jus.

Fish and chips,with fresh salads (above) contrasted in texture and flavour with the scampi risotto (below),which was accompanied by garlic,white wine and chili in its mix.

The approaching spring provided emerging flower blooms (above) to help contribute to the ambiance of outdoor breezes, of one being with the elements and with calming scenic views. I must say the cafe should open its glass sliding doors on such a benign day, although the possibly changing weather outside may have decided their closure.

Above, the salt and pepper calamari, served with a passionfruit coulis and sprout salad, could have been a picture of understatement but was an appetising entree. Below, getting to know the chocolate brownie better!

While I Was There

Chinatown Sydney, 930pm, on a Saturday night.

The corner of Goulburn Street and Dixon Street Mall has a bird’s eye view of the Sydney’s largest ferris wheel, spinning so ever to encourage the chi energy so valued by Asian owned businesses in the nearby precinct. However, that wheel impressed me less than the ceaseless parade of passers-by, mostly aged under thirty, on their way somewhere or casually flowing into food and drink outlets. There was a team with uniformed sports wear, most probably from Brazil. Others were dragging luggage on wheels, as if I was at an airport. Many had a casual air about them, obviously with spare time on their hands and a sense of glee about the evening ahead. Their dress-up or dress-down styles reflected the trendiness of various cities and not all reflecting Sydney.

This particular corner in fact did not echo of iconic Sydney. There was a young Caucasian couple
busking and playing traditional Chinese instruments. Some passer-bys took obvious glances of curiosity into the lit up windows of Meet Fresh, a business packing in the crowds with their offerings of Taiwan desserts, both hot and cold. The largest Chinese styled gardens outside China was just a stone's throw across the set of lights. Twenty somethings patiently queued to get inside for snacks of roti, curry and mee goreng at Mamaks. I overheard more expressions and conversations in languages other than English.

My group of mates rather enjoyed this bustling scene. To me, this is all a result of an open society and the outcomes of allowing market forces to operate. Beneath the veneer of commerce, socialability and progressive attitudes, this scene reminds me of the great cities and city states of history and/ or the present - Hangzhou, Damascus, Venice, Malacca, Amsterdam, New York, London, Alexandria, Xian and so forth. Societies cannot create or demand cosmopolitanism, they can only nurture and nourish it. Then the best talents and ideas flock to such forward looking cities, transform and infuse each other to subsequently - and hopefully, enjoy the benefits of growth and dynamic life.


Woolwich Bay at 1pm, on a Sunday.

Youngsters were sailing around in circles, part of an outdoor class held under a rather cloudy afternoon on the calm waters of the bay near Hunters Hill, Sydney. It was a ritual, a repetitive practice to make them comfortable with the art and enjoyment of this leisurely activity, albeit utilising rather smaller versions of yachts. The more familiar sized yachts were also there, a distance away with older sailors and full blown sails.

Other families and couples were seen preparing their picnic sites on chosen tables, laying out blankets and baskets. A rising breeze and increasingly cloudy sky did not dampen the eagerness or spirit of these outdoor enthusiasts. The two of us had scrambled down pasture like slopes to reach the bay end of Clarke Street. What struck us, on reaching the base, was the panoramic view of calm waters, surrounded on the other side by a more built up skyline. We realised that perhaps we were in a sort of oasis, a green lung set apart from buildings and traffic, a kind of Central Park in New York City, but with access to water vehicles, ferry boats and water front foot paths.

Increasingly, the value of such enclaves shall be appreciated even much more, not just reflected in property prices, premium school fees, unique sports and restricted accessibility, but in other now unimagined ways. Suburbs like Woolwich may have to take measures to stem the rising tide of what it does not desire from neighbouring precincts. It may now be protected by a buffer of water or price affordability. Look around your own suburb - are there things that are special, which in an increasingly overcrowded planet, with greater freedoms of mobility and rising notions of equity and political freedom, that your community and you should treasure more?


George Street, Sydney CBD , outside World Square, 5pm on a Sunday evening.

The firemen in helmets and stand out uniforms had cordoned off the space in front of the retail side of the centre facing Sydney's main city thoroughfare. People were standing around in a non-chalant manner, as if removed from and not concerned with what was happening so close to them. Sirens were blaring from inside the complex but the sounds were challenged by those from the passing vehicular traffic. Then the rains came down with a surprise, although the air was already thick heavy with an uneasy humidity.

I was driving to Alexandria, half noticing the shoppers, wanderers, tourists and students along George Street. City life, I thought, has several facets, opportunities and costs. There is so much choice, there are temptations to spend excessively. Do individuals get to meet more friends,or do they tend to eventually cocoon themselves with mates from the past and home towns? After the initial phase of discovery and indulging in variety, does one get jaded when regime, the costs of living and work pattern demands restrict the usual day's program? Why do Sydneysiders not hesitate to get out of the place on long weekends? Why do I, residing in Wollongong, not hesitate to take the opposite direction?

Sydney has character in its water front bays and hilly roads; carved up quarters offering different cultures and lifestyles; contrasting experiences between night and day, between weekdays and the weekend; a parade of what I call transient colonies, whose inhabitants seem to be in transit coming from and going to somewhere else; an apparent obsessiveness dealing with personal costs of living and chasing the gravy train; and easy access to a range of cuisines and community festivals not found elsewhere within one city. The lifestyles of unique "villages",whether you call them Surry Hills, Bondi, Newtown, Haberfield or Watsons Bay, offer the rewards to anyone putting up with the ridiculous extremes in Australia's biggest conurbation - crowded public transport, expensive but high density accommodation, selfish individuals, unfriendly neighbours, lack of personal time and traffic jams.