If I was a Honky, where would I eat?

So, it's been a couple of years since I lived in the old colony, but there is not a day that passes where I miss the people, the smells, the colour and above all, the food. If I was to find myself perched on death row, there would be little hesitation in leaning on my memories of Cantonese food for comfort in my final hours. That unfortunate scenario wouldn't open up many options of where to eat, but would easily allow me, in theory the choice of what to eat.

During my time there (Hong Kong, not prison) I ate regally, ate often, ate uniquely, and ate inspired. While there are too many places I partook in dining, for each one of these, there are 50 more that I never got the chance to sample. There will be time still to try and knock a few of those off the list I'd hope. Fun Gwor (steamed rice flour dumplings filled with pork, shrimp and bamboo shoots) in Shau Kei Wan. Fish Ball Noodles in Aberdeen (the first meal I even had in HK. The Char Siu over rice at Joy Hing's on Hennessy Road. The Peking Roast Duck at Spring Deer in Tsim Sha Tsui (which is way less of a con job than what the Roast Goose you get for your dollar at the tourist trap that is Yung Kee. The wonton noodle at Chim Chai Kee on Wellington Street. The Har Gau at Luk Yu Tea House on D'Aguilar Street. Chiu Chow in Kowloon City.

The weird and the wonderfulness of hot pot anywhere in Causeway Bay. The most amazing Roast Pigeon at the brilliant Tai Ping Koon in Yau Ma Tei. Typhoon shelter Crab on Lockhart Road - the kind of crab that rips the roof of your mouth off with the garlic it's packing (try a Guinness as a reliever) The bizzarly delicious Beef Tendon Noodles at Niu Gen Mein in Jordan. Chou Doufu (Stinky Tofu, like really stinky by the way) in Prince Edward. 

The stewed chicken feet and perfectly crispy skinned Siu Yuk they do at Lei Garden. The Congee from Ho Hung Kee in Causeway Bay. The sticky wok fried Razor Clams at Lamcombe on Lamma Island. The delicate beauty of the Beijing style Dumplings in soup they do at Wang Fu on Wellington Street. The thick wide flat noodles with Beef (Hor Fun) they have at Tak Cheong on Electric Street in Tin Hau. I need to stop now before I feel any more faint...

A first day of spring risotto

As the weather does finally seem to have turned the corner, and today being the first official day of the new season, I think we're finally done with red meat stews for a while, and it is now time to lighten the fridge up a little. This is not a particularly authentic risotto in the true sense, as its low on rice and high on vegetables, but that is just the point of the 'spring' bit. If any of the vegetables prove elusive you can double up on your favourite or substitute young broad beans (my favourite)

1 bunch asparagus
2 red onions
2 pints (just over 1 litre) water
6oz/200g sprouting broccoli
3 tblsp olive oil for cooking
½ tsp salt
5oz/150g risotto rice
½ glass (4fl oz/125ml) white wine
1 tsp tomato purée
6oz/200g garden peas
2oz/50g cold butter
2oz/50g freshly grated Parmesan
Salt to taste
Handful chopped mint or basil


Peel and dice the onions. Reserve the skins, tops and tails. Trim the asparagus
and chop finely, reserving the woody ends of the stems and any peelings. Add the onion skins and asparagus trimmings to the water and simmer for 20 minutes.


Strain and return to the heat so that it simmers next to your risotto pan.
Trim the broccoli and chop the tender part of the stem and florets finely. Set
aside with the asparagus. Heat the oil in a wide-bottomed pan and add the
onions and salt. Stir, reduce the heat and cover. Sweat for 10-15 minutes,
checking to make sure the onions don’t catch.


Turn up the heat and add the rice. Stir it through and add the wine. Let it bubble
and reduce by half, then lower the heat to a gentle simmer. Stir in the tomato
purée, asparagus, broccoli and peas. Add just enough stock to cover everything.
Cook, stirring gently, until all the stock has been absorbed. Add just enough
stock to cover again, and repeat the process.


When this stock has been absorbed remove the pan from the heat. Stir in the
butter and cheese and cover. Let it rest for five minutes, then season, add the
herbs and serve. Contrary to popular myth it isn’t necessary to douse a risotto
like this with more cheese at the table if you've added the right amount in the kitchen.

Thai prawns

So a whirlwind trip to Phuket and back ticked off the to do list, and while the hazy fog of jetlag is still with me, I thought there'd be nothing better than a killer prawn curry to keep the memories alive.  There was only so much that could be done with barely 48 hours in the country, but splitting the time between the heart of the island in Thalang which is in the shadows of Khao Phra Thaeo National Park, and the truly magical Khao Sok a couple of hours north of Phuket proved to capture all my attention and more.

I think it must be the simplicity of approach to the food that draws me, one of the best things I ate was a little dish of rice topped with slices of roast duck and a bowl of peanut chilli dipping sauce. Perfect and moreish, loved it for what it wasn't trying to be, and that I think is Thai food in a nutshell. I adored the smells, colours and sounds, there is always a certain vibrancy in that corner of South East Asia that will for ever steal me away, and in a food sense will continue to be an endless inspiration. Even on a wet and miserable Sunday in DC, the Maine Avenue fish market was a must for the prawns, aiding this story (with audio!  ) to continue for a little while longer.

This is quite a thin curry, which I've seen served with spiced salted beef. Kaffir lime leaves; fresh long chillies and Thai basil as essential garnishes, to give the dish its characteristic flavour.

Tradition demands that the prawns are added to the frying curry paste, but I feel that this can lead to such delicate items being overcooked, as they then continue simmering after the coconut milk is added. I think it's ultimately better to add the prawns once the base of the curry is made, when adding the vegetables. Almost any meat or fish can be used in place of the prawns, and the combination of the vegetable element has flexibility also.

Serves 4

5 tblsp cracked coconut cream
2½ tblsp green curry paste
1½ tblsp fish sauce, to taste
250ml coconut milk and/or chicken or prawn stock
3 apple aubergines, stalk removed and each cut into sixths (if cut in advance, keep in salted water to prevent discoloration)
100g picked pea aubergines
8-12 good quality large, raw prawns, cleaned and de-veined
3-4 kaffir lime leaves, torn
3 young green chillies, deseeded and thinly sliced at an angle
handful of Thai basil leaves
1 rounded tblsp shredded wild ginger

To make cracked coconut cream, simmer until most of the liquid has evaporated. It will then separate into thin oil and milk solids.

Heat the cracked coconut cream, add the curry paste and fry over a high heat for about 5 minutes, stirring regularly, until fragrant. Make sure the paste is quite oily.

Season with fish sauce, and then moisten with the coconut milk or stock, or a mixture of the two. Bring to the boil, and then add the apple and pea aubergines. Simmer for a few minutes to cook before adding the prawns. Continue to simmer until they too are cooked.

Finish with the remaining ingredients, and then allow to rest for a minute or so before serving. The curry should have a dappling of separated coconut cream floating on top. 


For the podcast click here!  

Barbecued rib eye steaks and summer vegetable skewers with a tangy lemon dipping sauce

On a recent weekend get away to New York City it was staggering to stumble about Chinatown and see with my very own senses of sight and smell just how authentic it all is. Having lived and breathed Asia myself I was in love the moment I made ground out of the Subway and ventured up Canal Street, this is a must on anybody's go to list if in the city and in need of something reminiscent of South East Asia. Manhattan's Chinatown is one of the oldest ethnic Chinese enclaves outside of Asia. The char siu bao was phenomenal as were some near damn perfect sui mai, but today we shall leave them to the experts I think.

Here's a barbecued steak idea for home, nothing whatsoever like the char siu of a good bbq shop, but easily something to brighten a cold late Winter night at home...

Serves 4

4 x 200g rib eye beef steaks

Olive oil, to drizzle

Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 large garlic cloves, peeled and crushed

2 tsp ground cumin

2 tsp ground coriander

Large handful of lemon thyme sprigs

1 glass of dry white wine

1 large courgette, trimmed

1 medium aubergine, trimmed

1 large red onion, peeled
4 globe artichoke hearts, cooked

For the dipping sauce
4 tblsp mayonnaise
3 tblsp Greek yoghurt
Pinch of cayenne powder
Zest and juice of 1 large lemon

Put the steaks in a bowl or food bag with a generous drizzle of olive oil, some freshly ground black pepper, the garlic, spices, a few sprigs of lemon thyme and the white wine. Toss everything together, then leave to marinate at room temperature for one hour.

For the vegetable skewers, slice the courgette in half lengthwise, then cut into 1.5cm thick half-moons. Slice the aubergine into quarters lengthwise, then cut across each quarter into 1.5cm thick wedges. Chop the red onion into small chunks or wedges and the globe artichoke hearts into quarters.

If using wooden skewers, soak them in a bowl of cold water. Put all the vegetables into a bowl. Pick the leaves from the lemon thyme and toss through the vegetables with some freshly ground pepper and a generous glug of olive oil. Thread the vegetables alternately on to the skewers.

Season the beef and vegetables with salt just before you start barbecuing. Allow 10-15 minutes for the vegetable skewers on the barbecue, turning them regularly until the vegetables are tender and golden. Cook the steaks over a high heat, allowing 3-5 minutes on each side, then allow them to rest on a warm plate for 5 minutes.

For the dipping sauce, mix all the ingredients together in a small bowl, adding lemon juice and seasoning to taste. Serve the steaks on warmed plates with two vegetable skewers per person and the dipping sauce in small bowls on the side

Flatbreads in the Indian manner and Udon with shepherd's pie filling

I have travelled a fair bit, and have found my way pretty well in a fair old cross mix of countries. Often leaning back on those travels when hunger rears its regular head, and in my humble opinion there's nothing quite like a whiff of nostalgia to loosen up the appetite. One country I've never been to (shame on me) is India, but that will change sooner rather than later with an impending wedding invitation not too far off. With the recent news of this, and a little bit of bread experimentation the past couple of days, a kind of a flatbread naan number was born. Nothing new in the sense of rolling out some dough and slapping it into a super hot oven I know, but such fun to play with a variety of toppings and see the creations puff in seconds before your very eyes. 

There was a dinner I had a few years back a couple of hours outside Napoli. Now, I tend to remember most meals, and this one I certainly do for this singular reason. Just the crispy, salty pizza-like flatbread we were deluged with before our food proper came to the table, this was why that restaurant existed I'm sure. I'll be damned if I can remember what I actually ordered that night, but those pillows of slightly charred crust were to die for. Dribbling in terrific olive oil, and almost too much great sea salt, but not quite, and cooked in seconds in a fabulously hot wood fired oven, they were for sure the best part of that adventure by a long way.

So therein lies a flash of the reason why, but the rest of this meal of mine is best left to a matter of necessity. Shepherd's pie base left over from the other day was sure to make a great sauce for pasta. Alas no pasta in the cupboard, but a pack of jolly expensive udon filled in the gap instead. I'm going to get hung drawn and quartered by my Japanese friends for this, but they made for a pretty outstanding substitute for the missing pasta... I shall remember that dish in the same way the flatbreads will continue to make an appearance at home...

These are slightly lighter than typical curry house naan breads but an equally delicious accompaniment to any Japanese dishes you might be knocking up! Don’t be tempted to overbake them because they will be dry and hard. They are best eaten straight out of the oven while still warm. If you are making them ahead, slightly under-bake them, then just before serving, sprinkle with water and finish under the grill

Makes 10-12

500g strong white flour

1 tsp baking powder

1 tblsp caster sugar

1 tsp fine sea salt

7g sachet easy-blend dried yeast

200ml natural yoghurt

2 tblsp groundnut oil

For the toppings

Sesame, kalonji, cumin or poppyseeds, freshly chopped garlic and coriander

Melted butter, for brushing

Sift the strong white flour and baking powder into a large mixing bowl. Stir through the sugar, salt and dried yeast, then make a well in the middle. Whisk the natural yoghurt and groundnut oil together and pour into the well. Add 150ml tepid water, then mix everything together to make a soft dough. If the dough seems dry, add a little more tepid water. Knead well for about 8-10 minutes or until the dough is smooth and elastic. Cover and leave in a warm place until doubled in size.

Preheat the oven to 220C/Gas 7. Place a roasting tin half-filled with water at the bottom of the oven. This will create moisture, which will prevent the naans drying out during baking. Punch down the dough, then divide into 10-12 equal portions. Flatten and shape the portions into teardrop shapes, spreading the dough with the tips of your fingers. Transfer to lightly greased baking sheets.

Sprinkle your choice of toppings over the naan breads, pressing them gently into the dough. Brush the surface with the melted butter, then bake in the oven for 10-12 minutes, turning halfway, or until the naans are risen and cooked.

Smothered spinach and black bean burritos

As Superbowl XLV appears over the horizon (11 days and a counting) the thoughts of game day snacks seem to be at the forefront of my event planning from here on in. There needn't be any pressure to out perform yourself on a day like this - taking the easy route is forgiven for most of what you serve, although I'm personally making sure I'm putting all I have into my chilli while allowing dishes as below slip as quietly as possible into the repertoire.

This will serve 4, but that's just a silly quantity to consider really.

250g creamed spinach with 1 cup sweetcorn kernels
Cooking-oil spray
1 can (15 oz.) black beans
1 tsp chilli powder
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/4 tsp cumin
4 large (burrito-size) flour tortillas
1 jar (16 oz.) salsa (hotter the better)
1/4 cup shredded cheddar cheese

Fold the sweetcorn into the spinach, stir in the black beans, chilli powder, garlic powder and cumin.

Meanwhile, spray a 13-by-9-inch glass or ceramic baking dish with cooking oil spray. Set the dish aside. Rinse the black beans, and set them aside to drain.

Assemble the burritos: Place 1 flour tortilla in the prepared baking dish. Spoon half of the spinach mixture into the middle of the tortilla, and wrap, tucking both ends under burrito-style. Place the folded burrito seam-side down at one end of the baking dish. Repeat with the remaining tortillas.

Pour the salsa over the burritos, and spread the salsa to coat them evenly. Cover the dish with microwave-safe plastic wrap, and fold a corner back to make a vent. Place the dish in the microwave, and cook, on high, until heated through, about 4 to 6 minutes, stopping to rotate the dish after 2 minutes.

Sprinkle 1 tablespoon cheese evenly on top of each burrito to garnish. Serve at once. Chilled beer. TV. Football.

A romantic chicken salad, not forgetting the vinaigrette

The next big date flagged up with a huge red star on the calendar (apart from Superbowl weekend of course, which is marked in blue and yellow highlighters by the way) clearly has to be Valentine's Day. An occasion to have yourself legally robbed, both of cash and guilt, and put each and every one of us under the pressure we rarely would give to an enemy of the state while persuading them to reveal where they've hidden the big bombs.

Why cook at home and go to all that effort and mess rather than take the bother out to your favourite restaurant (which will be mercillesly jacking their prices up for the joy of the occasion)? Where is the fun in actually cooking at home, creating something to be proud of, watch it eaten (hopefully) and reaping the benefits of that warm fuzzy feeling of acomplishment. Who actually does this sort of nonsense anymore? There can be precious few of us left who really, trully and honestly want to cook for a loved one, making them happy through nourishment... Well stop right there daddy'o, we all should...Each and every one of us can make a wee difference in our kitchens, and trust me here, even if stuffed up, the effort goes a long long way at home.

The first time a girl cooked for me on, ironically it had to be on Valentine’s day, was when I was 16. Her parents were out of town, well I think that's what she told me. She dressed up a set of foot stools in her living room and built a fire in the fireplace.

For dinner, she made us each an enormous salad—a bowl piled high with spinach leaves, grilled chicken, walnuts, either dried cranberries or raisins I think and a cheese of one form or another, hopefully it was a goat's.

I do recall she wasn’t much of a cook, and was incredibly nervous about making everything perfect. So nervous, in fact, that she forgot to put any description of a dressing on our salads. It was close to awful; each mouthful was a chore to swallow, each bite crackled like the log fire, and every time I dug in for another forkful, the poor thing had to be accompanied by a coy smile or acknowledgment towards her efforts.

If I was you, I'd be thinking along the lines of something as straight forward as this (don't forget the dressing) for your love this Valentine's, well that or book your favourite over-priced restaurant as soon as you possibly can.

Jerusalem artichokes provide carbohydrates and starch in this all-in-one salad. I think it is ideal for a light lunch and it leaves you with just enough room for a quick dessert. If you’re short of time, of course you can leave out the hassle of the deep-fried onion rings, but they do give a nice bit of crunch to the salad.

This will serve 4 as a starter, or a cosy generous 2 on its' own.

400g Jerusalem artichokes, scrubbed and washed
2 tblsp olive oil
4 free-range chicken breasts, with skin on
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
A few knobs of butter
150g baby spinach leaves, washed

For the vinaigrette
2 shallots, peeled and finely chopped
50ml sherry vinegar
150ml olive oil
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Pinch of caster sugar


For the onion rings
1 medium onion, peeled, cut horizontally and separated into rings
125g plain flour, plus 1 tblsp extra for dusting
30g corn flour
½ tsp fine sea salt
300ml light beer (or soda water)
Groundnut oil, for deep-frying

First, cook the Jerusalem artichokes. Boil them with their skin on in a pan of salted water until tender when pierced with a sharp knife, after about 10-15 minutes.

Meanwhile, prepare the vinaigrette. Mix the chopped shallot, vinegar and oil together in a small bowl and season to taste with the salt, pepper and sugar. Set aside and allow the flavours to infuse.

When tender, drain the Jerusalem artichokes and leave to cool slightly. Heat a frying pan with the oil until hot. Season the chicken breasts with salt and pepper and fry, skin-side down, for 3-4 minutes until the skin is golden brown and crisp. Turn over the breasts to cook the other side for another 3-4 minutes. Add a few knobs of butter and as it begins to foam, spoon over the butter to baste the chicken breasts. The thickest part of the breasts should feel firm when cooked through. Remove from the pan and leave to rest.

Cut the Jerusalem artichokes into thick slices. In the same pan that you cooked the chicken, melt a few more knobs of butter and add the artichoke slices. Fry for a few minutes each side until golden brown at the sides. Remove from the pan and keep warm.

To make the onion rings, sift the flour, corn flour and salt into a large bowl and make a well in the centre. Using a balloon whisk, mix in the beer or soda until the batter is just smooth.

Heat a deep-fat fryer or a heavy-based saucepan with about 15cm of groundnut oil until hot. (A small piece of bread dropped into it should sizzle immediately and float to the surface.) Deep-fry the onion rings a few at a time. Dust them lightly with flour then lightly coat in the batter. Gently drop the rings into the hot oil and fry until golden brown on both sides. Drain on kitchen paper and repeat with the remaining onion rings.

Toss the baby spinach and Jerusalem artichokes with some vinaigrette, then divide on to individual plates. Thickly slice the chicken breasts and place on top of the leaves. Scatter over the onion rings and drizzle more vinaigrette. Serve at once.