Granola with Rooibos & Brandy Infused Cranberries

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I’ve passed the two-month mark at my new job as a supervisor at Koko Black, and I’m absolutely loving it. To be honest, I can’t believe I’ve lasted this long – I still remember being so overwhelmed my first week there, and reckoning with God some stressful, sleepless nights about how impossible it was for me to even going to last a month in the place. Of course, there’s still some bad days – but I work with such a lovely group of people that I find myself smiling more and more there, even on the craziest of afternoon rushes. Plus, the sweetest old lady customer held my hand the other day for a full minute and told me that I was doing a lovely job. Um, what other occupation allows you to have such a genuine (albeit slightly awkward) interaction with other human beings?

However, a question that I’ve been getting asked quite a bit, usually out of concern when they learn how much (little) money I’m making, and in perfect innocence with no offense taken by me, is “Why don’t you find a real job elsewhere?”

There are plenty of reasons I could name (among them – this is a real job; I cannot properly function in office spaces; I want to open my own cafe in the future, etc etc), the chief one is that I love the fact that I get to both experience and display generosity in real, practical ways at work now.

One of my colleagues experienced the loss of a family member recently – and there was a morning last week where I was opening the store with her. My train was a little early that day, so I had 20 minutes before work to kill. I was going to sit in a nearby courtyard to have a much needed zone-out, but something led me to keep walking on to Coles to buy the brightest flowers I could possibly find to cheer her up. To be honest, the whole walk there (and even while looking for them), I could hear my brain telling me things like – Flowers are so overpriced – they’re not worth spending on! You can just give her a hug instead! You just had to pay off some crazy bills! That’s half your hour’s wage gone!

I realised what was holding me back (what always holds us back, I think): The idea that I didn’t really have “spare” cash should let me off the hook. I had come to my own conclusion that I did not have enough to give, therefore limiting my own actions. It’s not common to meet rich people who actually say and think that they’re rich — because they think that someone else, somewhere, has more.

In the grand scheme of things, the flowers didn’t make that much of a dent on my budget. And somehow, I felt so much richer having given those flowers than if I hadn’t spent on them at all.

The best thing about this is, a few days later, someone else at work (who didn’t know about the first story) bought me some flowers because she saw how tired I was from working some crazy shifts. Proverbs 22:9 says “The generous will themselves be blessed” and I can’t help but see this promise come to pass here. I’m also so glad to be in the company of the most generous people at work and at cell and church – I can only hope to do more of the same even as I learn from their example.

There are plenty of ways to be generous(time, money, etc), but of course my favourite way to do so is through sharing food. I’ve purposely adapted this granola recipe to make a massive batch so that it can be divided into several jars to share. The ingredients – especially the olive oil, maple syrup and brandy – are slightly costly for something as simple like granola, but it pays off in terms of the final texture and taste. You definitely don’t want to use maple-flavoured syrup instead of actual maple syrup here!

Granola:

6 cups rolled oats

1 1/2 cups pumpkin seeds

1 1/2 cups sunflower seeds

1/2 cup poppy seeds

1/2 cup sesame seeds

2 cups coconut flakes

2 cups mixed nuts – pecans, walnuts, pistachios, almonds

1 cup pure maple syrup

1 cup extra-virgin olive oil

1/2 cup brown sugar

1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

1-2 teaspoons of sea salt to taste

Cranberries:

1 cup dried cranberries or dried apricots

1 rooibos tea bag

2 cups boiling water

1 cup brandy

1. Pre-heat oven to 145 degrees celsius.

2. Combine granola ingredients and 1 tsp of salt in a mixing bowl and stir well until combined. Spread mixture over parchment paper lined baking sheets and transfer to oven.

 

3. Stir every 15 minutes until granola is nicely golden and toasted, about 45 minutes.

4. Combine all other ingredients in a large mixing bowl and let cranberries soak in the liquid for at least half an hour (although overnight will be better). Drain and pat dry with a paper towel.

 

5. Remove granola from oven and season with more salt to taste. Leave it in the oven for a few minutes if you like your granola extra crunchy. Let cool completely over a wire rack and toss cranberries through.

6. Store in airtight containers for up to 1 month. Never buy store-bought granola ever again.

 

Scrambled Eggs and Saturday Mornings

My family, like many typical Singaporean households, had a housekeeper who cooked all our meals till I was eighteen or so, so any time that I spent in the kitchen was usually limited to late night forages through the fridge. Up till a few years ago, I used to be one of those people who joke about only being able to cook cup noodles or a can of Campbell soup.

But I remember the first thing I made on my own: a frying pan of simple scrambled eggs. I remember watching my dad make them on our housekeeper’s off days on weekends – his method is hard and fast, with a dash of milk midway. For most of us, scrambled eggs are the very first dish we cook for ourselves, but the results are often lazy and hurried – the heat turned up too high, not enough seasoning, etc. The scrambled eggs of my childhood were pallid, rubbery, and overcooked (sorry, Dad!), until I watched the life-altering video of Gordon Ramsey making his perfect scrambled eggs. I’ve never looked back.

Since then, I’ve fine-tuned the method according to my preferences. For one thing, I find no real need for creme fraiche the way Mr. Ramsey does it, but the principle remains the same – good scrambled eggs are creamy and luxurious, made with patience and a watchful eye, reminiscent of weekend mornings spent in bed.

I’m currently reading Nigel Slater’s brilliant Real Fast Food, and in typical Nigel Slater fashion, he says, “Friends and family must wait for their scrambled eggs, not, most emphatically not, the other way round.” So, first of all, if you are going to make scrambled eggs after reading this post, you and whoever you’re serving should be ready to devour said eggs the minute it leaves the stove.

Next, your eggs should be as fresh as possible, with a gorgeous high-standing bright yellow yolk. If they’ve been sitting on your kitchen counter for a week, you should be making hard-boiled eggs or an omelette instead. Also, use a small saucepan with a thick base instead of a frying pan – it distributes the heat better, and lessens the chance of your eggs overcooking.

Break your eggs into a cold saucepan – I find having just 2 eggs is a little stingy, so go with 3, or, if you’re worried about doctor’s orders, split 5 between two people. Eggs and butter go together like Marley and reggae, so throw a knob of salted butter in there as well. Put the pan over gentle heat – I use the smallest burner turned to the lowest heat possible.

Now, at this point, you can go one of two ways, depending how much forearm strength you’re willing to use today. The first one, with a spatula, is less tiresome, where you stir the way Gordon does his, while taking the pan off the heat here and there until it cooks.

The second method is one I’ve taken up recently, and it takes much more effort than you’d expect for such a simple dish. Here, your eggs are whisked into submission – about 4-5 continuous minutes or so of it with a French whisk over low heat, making sure nothing sticks to the bottom and sides of the pan. When tiny curds begin to form, remove it from the heat and add a little bit more cold butter, whisking even more till the butter melts. The delicate pile of scrambled eggs you get at the end has no need for any embellishments (although of course you can top it with chives, or some truffle oil), and it melts so beautifully in your mouth that you will be tempted to ignore cholesterol warnings and make yourself another serve of it.

That, my friends, is how you should begin the weekend. Have a good one.

Roasted Spiced Pumpkin & Sweet Potato Soup

The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau’s famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.
Ratatouille (2007)

There are three things I distinctly remember about watching this movie five years ago.  The first was that when it came out, no one could pronounce “Ratatouille” right (Pixar had to spell its pronunciation out on the movie posters), let alone know what it was or what it tasted like. Two, that I could not stop giggling for most of the movie, and that I was laughing harder and louder than any kid in the audience. I might even have been shushed.

But most of all I remember the feeling of possibility it gave me, a then 18-year-old who’d barely touched a stove most of her life, a consequence of growing up with a nanny who cooked everything and living in a country where you can a good meal out for $2. I could feel the buzz and itch in my fingers. I cooked my first proper dish that week – cream of broccoli. There was waaaay too much salt (the concept of “season to taste” had not occurred to me yet), but still! ”Anyone can cook!”

It’s only fitting then, that my first recipe post on this blog will be as simple as simple can get. You don’t need terrifyingly fast knife skills. You don’t need to cut all your pieces in a uniform size. You can screw up the recipe halfway, but still fix it later.

And at the end of it, you’ll still have a damn fine dinner to serve your family on a cold winter night.

 

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Spiced Pumpkin & Sweet Potato Soup

1 butternut pumpkin, peeled & deseeded
1 medium orange sweet potato, peeled
3 carrots, sliced
2 medium onions, sliced
3 garlic cloves, smashed
Coriander, Cumin, and Curry powder
Vegetable stock (homemade = always better)
Heavy cream or full-cream milk

Preheat oven to 220 degrees C.

Cut pumpkin and sweet potato into large cubes. Toss with carrots, onions, garlic and as much olive oil as you see fit in a baking tray. Season with salt, pepper, and the trio of powders – you can vary each according to how you’d like the final result to taste.

Roast for 20-30 minutes until soft and slightly caramelised.

Remove from baking tray and transfer to large saucepan. Add several cups vegetable stock. I added just enough to cover the roasted vegetables in the pot. Bring to the boil, then let simmer for a few minutes.

Use an immersion blender to puree the mix, or if you don’t have one, ladle into a stand blender and whizz it up in batches.

Add more cream or milk till it reaches your desired consistency.

Spoon into bowls, top with some toasted pepitas, or if you have the time, homemade garlic sourdough croutons.