Just Don't Eat The Chair

'Eat'aly - Part 4: Frozen!

tremendoustri — Wed, 19 Nov 2014 23:53:00 GMT

If only I could have a gelato every day for the rest of my life! Why gelato and what is so special about it? Honestly, I kept asking myself that question every time I found myself – at any possible chance – about to turn the whole city upside down in search for a good one. That brings us to my very own “gelato conquest” – right in its homeland Italy.

The gelato I first nibbled on was found in Ferrara, in a quaint ice cream parlour (sadly I did not take note of the name). I came across it while Andrew and I were taking a stroll down the neighbourhood after checking in the hotel. Browsing the stall, I was astonished by the sheer numbers of gelato flavours, each imbued with a different characteristic: bright and smooth, mysteriously dark and chunky, playfully scarlet and fruity, etc. So many options, so little time. To make matter worse, all of them are labeled in Italian. I decided to take a wild guess and opted for ‘crema ouva’ and ‘zabaglione’ out of the massive colourful palette. Then, I anxiously waited as the ice cream lady dug a metal spatula into the mound of luscious frozen custard, scooped out a huge glob and skillfully smeared it on the rugged wafer cone. Like a child, I passionately buried my tongue in my treat, and with each dip take in a sizeable amount. “Rich flavor harmonised beautifully with velvety texture, and perfectly contrasted by crunchy thin fragrant biscuit.” The custard was strong and eggy to my liking, and the wafer was nutty and buttery. The wafer itself was special, one-of-a-kind. I wished to savour it longer, but unfortunately, the gelato melted rapidly in the afternoon heat in to a creamy mess and rushed down my hands, forcing me to gobble up quite barbarically the whole cone. Much to our surprise, my gelato was inexplicably bigger than his, perhaps the lady saw the eagerness in my eyes and suddenly felt more generous towards the little guy. As I was still struggling, Andrew – standing beside me – had already finished his fruit-flavoured one. I defeated it valiantly, and was “rewarded” with slimy fingers. That skimpy piece of tissue paper did not do much help though (Note taken: Always bring an abundance of wet wipes when having ice cream on the go). It was the first thing I lay my mouth on in Italy, and decidedly was a brilliant start of my delicious journey.

A couple of days later, I felt an urge to get a second helping of gelato. It was in Ravenna, and we finished our work relatively early that day, enough to squeeze in an afternoon treat before dinner. On our way back from the mosaic workshop, we stopped by a small gelateria… Wait a minute… we did not. Instead, we went to a charming cannoleria, and I am sure glad we did. It was discovered then that like me, Andrew also had his own sweet obsession – cannoli. A cannolo is a hollow tube of pastry filled with a creamy filling usually containing ricotta. Like gelato, it was “a love at first bite” for me. The textural contrast between the shell and the interior instantly captured my heart. Flavour-wise, the combination worked beautifully and offered a superb gastronomic sensation: rich and creamy, sweet but not sickly sweet with a slight tang and a hint of tartness. I understood why he loved it so much. Watching him degust his cannolo “grande” with great joy, I secretly wished I had been bolder to go for it instead of my “piccolo” one. Though having to suppress my craving for the time being, I was ecstatic – the cannoli were marvellous (and so unexpectedly, they were on the house – blimey!).

The following days saw us on our assignment from dawn to dusk. Therefore, not until in our very last destination – Bologna did I get the chance to find that frozen indulgence again before heading back home. And there began my “gelato marathon”. “It’s a wrap!” and we immediately got ready for our last night out in Italy. Soon Andrew and I found ourselves, with our favourite delights in hands – cannolo and gelato respectively… drowned in disappointment. His cannolo was soggy and tasteless, and mine hazelnut gelato was rather bland and watery. They were absolutely subpar, accredited by the fact that they were from some touristy, main-street shops. (Note taken: Remember to get recommendation for food vendors from locals). Huge mistakes! The cannolo was sent to the trash half-eaten, and I did not bother to take a second bite at the wafer. At least all is not lost for me when I still had another day before taking off. Gelato, I’m coming for you!

The last day…

Having packed my luggage, I left the hotel and ventured out to finish what I started. The receptionist (at the hotel) kindly dropped me some names, and I waited no time to get back on my feet. First one on my list was “Gelateria Gianni”, an award-wining ice cream parlour. Stepping inside, I was overwhelmed by the array of gelato flavours displayed attractive in glass-windowed refrigerators from the entrance all the way to the back of the store. Different shapes and sizes of wafer lay neatly on top of those fridges. A steady stream of customers circulated the store; some were enjoying their treats inside at the modest tables scattered around the place. A crowded business – undoubtedly a good sign. This time I entrusted the clerk with the choice of flavours and had him make me a combination of pistachio and chocolate-swirled vanilla. My favourite part when buying a gelato (besides eating) is watching the ice cream man/lady serves it. Observing the consistency of the gelato when being worked, one can really tell why it is so superior to regular commercial ice cream. Less air incorporated into the mixture grants gelato a dense and full bodied texture, while slightly warmer serving temperature allows it to become soft and pliable. The gelato came in a wafer cone as usual and (thankfully) with a tiny plastic spoon, which accommodated for a somewhat more “civilised” eating fashion. By look, the two flavours contrasted quite nicely: tint of green on pale yellow, adorned with traces of dark brown. How enticing! Slurp... Pure indulgence! Sweet, it was sweet, enhanced by the unmistakable nutty aroma and richness of pistachio and counteracted by the potency of chocolate. On account of the relative lower fat content, the gelato melted quickly in my mouth and coated my palate with a clean and intense flavour then dissipated in a snap, leaving the longing for another mouthful. The presence of crunchy biscuit, in addition, truly brought the ensemble to another level. It was always a mess for me whenever I had a gelato, luckily this time I came prepared. Even though it was quite rich to finish the whole thing, I enjoyed it to the last bit. I thought that was the end of my conquest.

Quarter past four, running back to the hotel for the pickup, I passed by another lovely gelateria – Venchy, and miserably failed to resist its charm. The luminous lighting of the shop nicely complemented the mouth-watering gelato trays. In fact, they looked good enough to lure in any unsuspecting pedestrians, urging them to reach for their wallets. Like a moth to a flame, I fell right into their trap. Despite the diminishing space in my stomach, I convinced myself that there was still enough room for one more. I chose the one flavour that “popped” the most – cherry and paired it with another fruit – lime, with intention to keep this last gelato light and fresh. I skipped the wafer so as to avoid a mess and enjoy the ice cream with cup and spoon. Sexy crimson on snow white, deeply sweet and zesty, the two flavours introduced a refreshing vibe, imparting the right amount of acidity which was perfect for a palate cleanser. It was actually closer to a sorbet than a typical gelato, but I could not care less. I wholeheartedly savoured every spoon and tried my hardest to remember every distinct note of flavour, knowing that my Italian food expedition was reaching its conclusion.

A cone of ice cream, a frozen treat as it may be, a gelato was a crucial part of my Italian journey, the first and last course of my Italian feast, and probably the most vivid piece of my Italian memories. Dying to get another one…

'Eat'aly - Part 3: 6 Mistakes I Made about Parmigiano Reggiano

tremendoustri — Wed, 13 Aug 2014 17:21:00 GMT

Being an avid food enthusiast, I am all too familiar with Parmigiano Reggiano, one of the most popular Italian cheeses. I cooked it, I ate it, I obviously should know a thing or two about it. Wrong! My previous notion about this hard cheese turned out awry, shattered completely once I undertook a guided tour of Caseificio La Traversetolese, a cheese factory located in the province of Parma. All dressed in hygienic disposable clothing (or as my guide humorously remarked, “very fashionable Armani apparel”), I embarked on a mission to dispel any misconceptions.

1. “I should avoid it like the plague ‘cause I’m lactose-intolerant.”

I think there is three types of people who should not be enjoying this heavenly cheese: the ones who are allergic to cows’ milk, vegetarians and vegans. Bless them! The folks who are highly sensitive to dairy products due to lactose-intolerance could unworriedly have a bite of Parmigiano Reggiano. Despite being a dairy product, its lactose content diminishes sharply during cheese making process as most of that is drained off with the whey. The remaining amount in the curd is transformed into lactic acid during ripening (aging), leaving behind merely trace of lactose. In fact, they can opt for good-aged cheeses to savour rather than avoiding dairy product all together.

2. Parmigiano Reggiano is just for grating on pasta

Grating Parmigiano Reggiano on pasta dishes. (Yum!) However, Parmigiano Reggiano is also excellent on its own. True Parmigiano Reggiano imparts a sharp, complex fruity/nutty flavor in harmony with strong savory taste, which is accompanied by a crunchy texture (from countless whitish granules of cheese crystals). Pair it a good Italian wine and be sent straight to heaven. The pronounced flavor takes over the senses, all the richness and aroma, then is cut through by the acidity of the wine, and further lingers in the back of the mouth even after being washed down. The combination of pungent cheese and tangy wine is the classic, for me, that will never be outdated.

Parmigiano Reggiano can also be stirred into soup or risotto, or shaved over other dishes other than pasta. My favourite is Parmigiano Reggiano crust, crisp and salty!

3. Parmesan = Parmigian Reggiano

Just a second…, that is true…, but only in Europe. The name Parmigiano Reggiano is PDO (Protected Designation of Origin) which refers exclusively to the Parmigiano Reggiano manufactured in a limited area in northern Italy. It is regulated that the name “Parmesan” also refers solely to the qualified Parmigiano Reggiano cheese, not the faux one. That being said, outside Europe, particular in the US, the so-called “Parmesan” is used to name the imitation products, which by no means are authentic. Some of these cheeses are actually quite good, in my opinion, but once I tried the true Parmigiano Reggiano in Italy, there was no going back. Nothing beats the real deal!

4. Parmigiano Reggiano manufacturing nowadays is completely automatized

If that is not true then how on earth they manage to produce enough cheese to meet that insane level of demand? Efficient and experienced personnel are the answer. Again, Parmigiano Reggiano is a protected dairy product, thus strictly required rather rigid traditional procedures. These include, by hands, breaking milk curds using oversized long-handled balloon whisk, collecting compacted curds in muslin, moulding into wheels, imprinting with necessary info, testing, sorting and sealing. Nonetheless, the presence of machines is not disallowed and I reckon it helps a lot since it caters all the heavy work. Imagine transferring by hands 38-kilo cheese wheels through different stages, stacking them on shelves as high as two-storied house to ripen, and cleaning every single one of them every 7 days… (Grazie mille, inventors!) Interestingly, when it comes to cheese testing, humans can even rival machines. I saw a master grader examined his cheese just with a hammer and his ear. By tapping the wheel at various spots, he could identify undesirable cracks and voids within and therefore determine whether the cheese is a prime or not. A machine provided the same result by x-ray-scanning the wheel for defections. The expert was ten times faster than the machine and just as accurate. I could not help but stood there in awe!

5. Its nutritional value does not differ clearly from its original ingredient: milk

Milk may be considered a great source of calcium, but Parmigiano Reggiano is particularly rich in that. On average, for 100g of milk, 113mg of calcium can be found, whereas with the same amount of cheese, that figure increase to 1184mg. Moreover, it is higher in protein compared to milk, 35.75g to 3.22g for every 100g. Keep in mind though that Parmigiano Reggiano is also concentrated with fat and sodium, eight and thirty-seven times more than milk respectively. I must limit my consumption to a healthy dose then, in spite of how irresistible it is. (Sigh!)

6. Parmigiano Reggiano and Prosciutto di Parma have no other relations beside being originated from same region and… tasting good on same plate

As a matter of fact, its by-product, the whey remaining after milk curds are collected, is utilised to feed the pigs from which Parma ham is produced, following traditional methods. No wonder the two pair so well together!

'Eat'aly - Part 2: Ten Commandments of Pasta Making

tremendoustri — Wed, 13 Aug 2014 16:49:00 GMT

It would not be a fruitful trip to Italy without me finally learning the art of making the quintessential Italian culinary staple. As my trip took place in Emilia-Romagna, I got my hands on learning the traditional way make to egg pasta, from scratch and by hand, that is. It was not my first attempt at making this Italian ‘noodle’, to be honest, but acquiring the knowledge of making it right in its motherland is something so surreal. I find myself super lucky to be able to learn not only once, but three times with incredible mentors during the trip (cue my exclamation). Though that was not enough to make me a pasta making ninja, it helped me absorb some key points to success.

1. Egg + Flour = Pasta

I learned that it is unnecessary to throw my entire pantry into pasta dough. Italian cuisine is all about simplicity, so two common ingredients are more than enough for the iconic culinary staple. In general, use 1 free-range egg per 100 grams of ‘00’ flour. Make sure you use the best quality produce available, as it does make the difference. I could not forget the look of the vibrant lusciously yellow egg pasta during my days in Italy. The color intensity was phenomenal, and to my surprise, that all came from the egg!

2. Knead till you bleed

Well, we do not need to be that extreme, but it is important to keep kneading until all the loose bits of flour are thoroughly incorporated, no large air bubbles are visible, and the finished dough is completely lump-free. It took me quite a good amount of constant kneading to reach that stage.

3. Pasta loves siesta

Who does not love a good rest? When it comes to making pasta, it does wonders to the dough as does beauty sleep to us. Resting allows the gluten in the dough to relax, resulting in an ultra soft and pliable dough that does not curl up or retract when rolled out. Just let it sit for 20 - 30 minutes on the counter and cover with a bowl to keep it from drying out, or as a safety measure, wrap it loosely with cling film. In particular hot days (well, like almost every day in Vietnam), I tend to pop the wrapped dough in the fridge, since it contains raw egg.

4. Roll, roll, roll the dough, till it’s paper thin

The best tool for the job is the wooden rod-type rolling pin, thin and super long, as it is able to accommodate large pieces of dough and surprisingly wieldier than a big chunky roller. What I used in Italy was perhaps more than 50 centimeters. If your pin is short (like what I have at home), consider ‘divide and conquer’ when tackling the dough, or buying a new one. The dough should be rolled until amazingly thin and almost transparent when held so that we could see our hand put behind it. As we roll, we can really tell the benefit of resting the dough, as it does not put up much resistance, saving us severe frustration. Initially I was deceived by how effortlessly the mentors did it, but it turned out to be no easy task for me. But hey, practice makes perfect, eh?

5. To dry or not to dry

No-brainer here. Dry when we wish to make cut pasta (e.g. tagliatelle, fettuccine, lasagna, pappardelle), and do not when we fancy shaping or stuffing our pasta (e.g. cavatelli, farfalle, ravioli, tortellini). Drying slightly toughens the pasta sheet, paving way for cleaner cuts. As it loses its elasticity, it tends to tear apart and crumble when pressed, thus becoming unable to be shaped. To keep pasta from drying out, cover it with cling film. When it comes to shaping, work in batches and remember to cover standby portions. Keep in mind that overexposure to air can cause pasta to lose all of its moisture, making it impossible to be transformed into any kind of shape (except for maltagliati – the “badly cut”, I guess).

6. It’s all about the shape

A delectable pasta dish is strongly stressed on the perfect marriage of pasta and sauce. The choice of sauce can make or break our previous effort. As a rule of thumb, flat and long shapes happily goes with light sauces (think tomato, olive oil, and cream-based), while sturdy shapes cry for chunky sauces with bold flavor. Whatever we do, we want the pasta we worked so hard for to shine!

Combinations I came across: Tagliatelle with ragù (not Spaghetti alla Bolognese, folks), Tortellini with broth, Tortelloni with sage butter, Garganelle with Black olive cream sauce, etc.

7. Remember, seawater

Size does matter here. Get a big pot (no, a huge pot), fill with a lot of water, and season with a lot of salt. It is essential that the pasta should swim in a sea of water while the water itself should taste like the sea (minus the fishy smell). One tablespoon of salt per litre should do the trick. The surplus amount of water cooks the pasta more evenly, while the generous amount of salt ensures the rather bland pasta is well seasoned internally. In addition, bringing water to a rolling boil before adding pasta prevents mushy and deformed pasta. One more piece, SKIP THE OIL as it hinders pasta from adhering to the sauce later on. For stick-free card, stirring the water (not the pasta) ever so often would suffice.

8. Fresh means less

Fresh pasta generally requires less cooking time than its dry counterpart does. Therefore, it is vital that we keep an eye out on the pasta as it cook to prevent overcooking. What I do: stay by the pot and watch like a hawk. It usually takes a couple of minutes (or even seconds), not that long.

9. Al dente = Eccellente

The desirable texture of the perfectly cooked pasta could be described as having a slight resistance in the center (i.e. “to the tooth” or “to the bite”). The only way I learned through my cooking sessions to get this sorted is by experience. We have to cook pasta for a few decades to learn that sense of doneness. Forget about the timing (as there are many variables involved) and notice the change of the pasta. In case of stuffed pasta, wait for it to rise to the surface whereas for other forms, fish out a piece and have a taste. Trust yourselves! (I was fortunate enough to have an Italian mentor to tell me when the pasta was ready.) Quickly drain it when it is just a breath away from ‘al dente’ and toss right into the sauce to finish cooking.

10. Hurry, it’s munch time!

Voilà! Freshly made egg pasta cooked to perfection in truly Italian way. Take time to have a glass of wine, pat yourself in the back. DIG IN IMMEDIATELY! Make haste as the flavor deteriorates as it cools. In that sense, serving pasta in warm plates, bundling neatly in the center is not too shabby an idea. Aesthetic and practical – two birds one stone!

Italy At Last

tremendoustri — Tue, 1 Jul 2014 08:00:00 GMT

14-hour flight really sucked the life out of me! Still, that little piece of Michael Bublé did brighten up my mood (thank you Alitalia), and as soon as I felt the warm afternoon sun tenderly caressing my skin for the very first time, I was alive again.

And there I was, rushing out of Bologna airport to find, standing tall and calmly in his blacks suit and shades with a sign reading my name, a coarse-bearded dark-haired Italian who greeted me with a low-toned gentle voice. Giovanni was his name (if I am not mistaken, sorry mate). He would be driving me to my hotel in Ferrara. Suddenly emerged a slightly higher-pitched voice, and a fair-skinned bright-haired British guy slowly put down his Canon and briskly walked towards us. It was Andrew, my assigned filmmaker (slash travel companion slash dining comrade slash drinking mate slash partner in crime – well, you get the idea). It was so surreal; to be honest, I am a little overwhelmed with all these VIP’s treatments (and that was just the beginning). The team was assembled at last, and we wasted no time as we quickly buried ourselves in discussion while being escorted to our first destination. It was 2 hours of ‘what…?’, ‘when…?’, ‘how…?’, ‘where…?’ and ‘why…?’ during which I was the one who mostly provided the answers.

At around five, the car took a final turn onto a narrow stone-paved street. Giovanni hit the brake, and there we arrived, at Hotel De Prati, a small yet cosy hotel adorned with an artistic touch. After managing to squeeze our cargos and selves into a tiny elevator, we got to our rooms. Not bothering to unload my suitcase, I hit the bed and had a little nap. A moment later, I met up with Andrew and took a stroll together. For a sweet tooth like me, nothing represents Italy better than a good gelato; and with my first Italian ice cream cone, I was far from disappointed. Rich flavor harmonized beautifully with velvety texture, and perfectly contrasted by crunchy fragrant thin biscuit. FANTASTICO! We headed back to the hotel soon after that frozen indulgence and geared up for the upcoming dinner party.

In short time, we saw ourselves standing in the middle of an open space in front of a local church, Santa Maria in Vado. Decorated with colorful banners, ribbons, paper ornaments and filled with long dining table half-laid, it was unmistakably a party site. Certainly, the folks were in festive mood as I saw them gathering in the church courtyard, drink in hand, chatted enthusiastically while sharing the same look of anticipation. With the help of two ebullient ladies, Giulia and Beatrice, I got to know about the annually month-long celebration taking place at the moment, Palio di Ferrara. In fact, it was the night before the culminating event, the Palio races; so the neighbourhood threw a gathering where everyone soaked up the atmosphere, enjoyed some food and wine, and had a great time. As the stars lit up the night, the whole place was lit up with fluorescent lights. Everybody soon found his or her place at the table, and we quickly followed suit. By that time, I was fully submerged into the cheerful ambiance. Food plates were flying, glasses were clinking, and laughter was spreading. Everybody ate, everybody drank, but then I only drew a blank. Do not get me wrong, it was a bloody lot of fun. However, with Italian frantically shot out at one hundred miles per hour, I could only recall giving toasts the champions (the ones who took part in the races), munching on some copieta (traditional bread), some baked pasta, some chicken stew, and… taking selfies with locals. The rest became a blur. Then, not for very long after the exhaustion kicked in, we excused ourselves and reluctantly left the party midway, probably before its inevitable deviation into a carousal. (What a shame!)

Therefore, Andrew and I took a walk back, enjoying the chilled breeze drifting through the dimly-lit streets of Ferrara. (I personally did not enjoy the cold night air so much! Brrrrr!) My very first night in Italy wrapped up at last. Beautiful sights, abundant and sumptuous food servings, a great company, affectionate locals, those were certainly the harbingers of a tremendous journey.

Photos: Passport & Plate - "Cá cơm kho khô" - Sticky Claypot Whitebait

tremendoustri — Fri, 14 Mar 2014 13:49:00 GMT

Ingredients 300g whitebait (if not available, opt for any white firm-flesh fish and cut into bite-sized pieces) 4 tbsp plain flour 1 tbsp cornstarch ¼ cup caster sugar 1 tsp shallot, chopped 3 bird’s eye chilies, 2 green and 1 red (or to the desired amount of heat), lightly crushed with the blade of a knife for a mild option, or chopped for a spicier option 1 tsp oyster sauce 1 ½ tbsp fish sauce (or to taste) 1 tsp cracked black pepper A handful of fresh Vietnamese mint leaves, roughly chopped Oil for deep-frying To serve: Ambarella (or green mango), shredded Steamed rice or plain congee Lettuce leaves “Rau sống” (mixture of different Vietnamese common herbs such as Thai basil, mint, shiso, fishwort, etc.) How to prepare this recipe FIRSTLY, PREPARE THE WHITEBAIT. Rinse well under cold running water and pat dry with paper towels. Heat the oil to about 160oC. Dust the fish liberally with the flour and cornstarch, then shake off any excess flour. Drop the fish into the hot oil in small batches, fry for about 3-4 minutes, until it looks dry but still slightly soft and not yet take on any color. Set aside. TO MAKE THE STICKY SAUCE, put the sugar into a clay pot (or a small saucepan that can accommodates all the whitebait) with 2 tbsp water to form wet sand. Melt the sugar over medium heat until it turns dark brown, just like making regular caramel. Immediately add in ¼ cup hot water, reduce the heat to low. Gently simmer until the sugar blends into the water and the mixture looks syrupy. Add in the shallot, chili, oyster sauce, fish sauce, pepper and stir well. Turn off the heat. Set aside. TO FINISH THE DISH, HEAT THE OIL TO 180oC, add in the whitebait and fry until crispy and golden. Meanwhile, heat the sauce up to boiling point, then in goes the whitebait. Immediately turn off the heat and stir well until every single fish is well-coated with the amber glossy sticky sauce. Add in half of the Vietnamese mint leaves, and give it a good toss. Lid on and keep warm. TO SERVE, sprinkle the remaining mint leaves on top. Serve with steamed rice or plain congee, shredded ambarellas (or green mangoes), and “rau sống”. I personally like to eat this dish the way Koreans do, using lettuce leaves to wrap everything else and in goes to the mouth in one bite. ***NOTE: All the herbs and spices could be substitute for different variations. Try lemongrass and galangal, tumeric, or ginger, etc. For a vegetarian version, substitute fish with vegetables of your choice, replace oyster sauce and fish sauce with vegetarian oyster sauce and soy sauce. The sauce itself could be used a dip for steamed or boiled vegetables, a true Vietnamese way. The story behind this recipe There was a time when I was a picky eater (contrary to who I am today of course)...No existing forces in the universe could ever see me truly enjoy that one ingredient: FISH. Yes, I used to hate fish! What I hate most about it was the way I have to remove the bones to get to the meat without suffering from a bad case of choking, since fish fillet is virtually unheard of in traditional Vietnamese cuisine, sadly. Fortunately, there was WHITEBAIT… A “boneless” fuss-free fish! What could be better? Well, that brings us to the day my mom brought home tons of whitebait from her trip to the Mekong Delta. When she started to tell storied about her journey, I got lost in the fantastic world of vast plains and mighty rivers. Schools of fish swarms the rivers alongside other inhabitants; humble bushes of herbs grows wildly along the paddy fields giving off enticing aroma; rows of trees filled with fruits waves in the wind. The idea of this dish sparked off. Utilizing ingredients abundant in Southern Vietnam, I came up with a recipe which held that ability to travel me to the countryside of wonder. Crunchy fish is coated with mom’s not-so-secret-anymore savory caramel sauce (I asked for her approval), which I adapted and introduced some aromatic spices. Sweetness, savory, and acidity harmonize beautifully in a “one-pot wonder”. It got a huge yes from mom and dad (and my parents are the strictest critics). Enjoying the dish together somehow makes up for the family meals we missed back in the hard days, when my parents were buried deep in their work. It has been years since I was that little kid avoiding fish at all cost. Not until now that I realized it was really the feeling of being abandoned had me hated all the dishes that involved the act of sharing and the virtue of patience, in which fish frequently is in present. It is the family bonding times that help me learn to love them, and such simple dishes made with love see my family coming closer than ever before. About Me “It should be me!” I have always been a foodie, ever since I could remember. From a little boy begging mom every Thursday night for watching a cooking show, I am on my way to become a chef, with burning passion for food and ceaseless hunger for culinary adventures. It was the immense love for food that brought me to the show MasterChef Vietnam, where I placed second (or “the first loser”). I am no stranger to cameras, apparently, and by no means a picky diner. I will eat anything with legs, but the chair. (Having a fast metabolism definite is a perk.) I rarely speak my mind, but when it comes to food my heart just pours out. Moreover, as an aspiring chef, I understand the value of hard work behind a dish and am willing to get down to every not-so-coveted business. Having relied on TV as the passport to the world, my knowledge of Italian consists of merely pastas, pizza, and tiramisu. What would be better for a young apprentice than a chance to truly dive in the culture, meet up with the locals, degusting delicacies while learning the craft at the same time? Through a young soul's impressionable eyes every grain of dirt becomes staggeringly different. My "greenness" would lend way to an exploration of exciting revelations. So why not give a shot when instinctively l know l am the sought after CULINARIAN? A dash of my personality and a sprinkle of good humor would spice up the journey, don't you think? Hopefully this time I would not have to say “It should have been me!”