I Like to Move It (Move It!)

We like to - Move It!

***

I've never forgotten the first time I heard Knowing You. I was 15, insecure, and coming out of a "depressed" phase where I cut myself and essentially acted in a way designed to draw attention to the fact that only I could see how trivial life truly was, and it saddened me that my shallow schoolmates did not see this. Kind of a more intense version of my 17-18 year old self, and infinitely more annoying (that's why I used those inverted commas. If you knew me back then, I do apologise. But I do think I was quite fun to be around at times? Anyone want to give me some reassurance?).  

The song was introduced to me by my Secondary Three Chemistry teacher. I forget, now, whether she was my form teacher as well - she might have been - and I remember her for this incident: I had badly wanted to be on my house cheerleading team for the PCCG camp. Of course I wasn't wanted, because I was a choir girl and not athletic - and other girls did make it clear that this was so, but I wanted to do it anyway. 

Anyhow, I was eventually (and grudgingly) accepted. One of the key cheerleading practices was scheduled for an afternoon when we had choir practice, I think I was on my way to becoming Soprano One sectional leader then (I eventually was in Secondary Four), so missing choir practice was a no-no. I told this teacher, let's call her Mrs K, that I would be late for practice because of the cheerleading rehearsal (Mrs K was also in charge of choir). She told me it was up to me to choose which activity I would go for, but her tone implied that it would be the Right Thing To Do if I chose to go for choir. I knew this as well, of course.

I eventually chose to attend choir practice, which meant I eventually did not participate in the cheerleading performance during said PCCG camp. One of the girls made a stab at asking me to skip it, but I think she was secretly relieved - and Mrs K, when she saw me, was really pleased. And proud of me. I could tell, even though all she said was "What about cheerleading practice?" To which I replied "Ah, I skipped it". Flippantly, as though it didn't matter, when it really did.

(I also topped my class in Chemistry that year. Not THAT big a deal, seeing as I was in a 'B' class, but yeah, it was a nice feeling.)

Knowing You wasn't sung much at the church I attended then, and my parents had a strict no Internet policy, so I never knew the lyrics to the full song until I was 18 and Q and I chose it for the last worship session of our junior college lives, which worship session we led. But throughout the intervening years, I always remembered:

All I once held dear, built my life upon

All this world reveres, and wars to own

All I once thought gain, I have counted loss

Spent and worthless now, compared to this:

Knowing You, Jesus - there is no greater thing

The poignancy of the first two lines, especially, struck me deeply when I first heard them; at this stage in my life, I cannot agree more that people "war to own" things which are ultimately worthless when compared to the wonderful knowledge of Jesus.

***

I alighted at Raffles Place MRT station for the first time in months yesterday afternoon, and coming out of the gantry, I was struck by how much I didn't miss it. I've always liked the CBD, especially watching the lights over the river and walks by the Esplanade at night; the feeling of being young and alive and with so many things to do, being a part of the multitude working, earning money, contributing to society.*

*Essentially, a rat in the rat race.

Yesterday, I felt out of place in my shorts and tank top, baby strapped to my front, amongst all the well-heeled, made up ladies clacking and yakking their way around. But I didn't quite mind that I was no longer one of the youngest members of the workforce, that I would never again be an Eager Beaver, checking my BlackBerry all the time, always with some place to go, something important to do. That being said, I still spent the bus ride back (to NTUC) contemplating how much my attitude towards my career has changed, and wondering about it until my head hurt from thinking. We won't know how our experiences will shape us until we've experienced them, but I definitely didn't think I would ever feel this way about my career when I first started, to wit, I am not too concerned about what I'm doing so long as I am engaged and earning a sum of money reasonable and proportionate to what is expected of me.**

**In case prospective employers chance upon my blog, I am a hard worker and desire excellence in all I do. But it's equally, if not more important to me, to make it home in time to cook dinner for my husband and feed my child his. Please would you consider a part-time arrangement?

I remember the day after I got approval for my no-pay leave to be extended, I went for a swim and thought to myself: man, there is a long, long way to go until I'm back at work. But a friend asked me yesterday whether I preferred being a SAHM to working, and I replied that although I couldn't say I did, it was quite nice to finally see that your baby likes you, and more importantly I enjoy it because I know Jon is thankful I'm home and there for him. If you ask me what I think I should be doing with my life now, being there for Jon probably tops the list. Not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually - and that in some way includes me being at home to take care of FBC. I think I've finally come to a place where I'm willing to do my best to embrace and enjoy this time I have as an SAHM, instead of plotting my return to work. 

***

So, I made a trip to NTUC yesterday despite having a fairly well-stocked fridge because I decided to make chicken noodle soup for dinner. It's adapted largely from this recipe by Smitten Kitchen, save that I didn't make chicken stock separately. I simply put 8 Sakura bone-in, skinless chicken thighs into my thermal pot along with:

• 1 yellow onion, quartered
• 1/2 a large, long carrot, sliced into rough sticks
• 3 cloves of garlic, smashed (we have talked about how small the China garlic cloves are, so I used 3 - feel free to use less if yours are big)
• 1 bay leaf
• ~1 tbsp tomato paste
• Pinch of dried thyme
• Pinch of dried red pepper flakes 
• ~3 litres of water. My thermal pot has a capacity of about 3.6 litres, and it was almost full (not a good way to cook but we deal)

I brought it to a boil (it overflowed slightly, of course) then took it off the stove and let it sit in my thermal pot for about an hour or so. I omitted the salt and pepper at this stage because I wanted to take some broth and mix it with rice cereal for FBC, but you can always add salt and pepper at this stage if you wish. Just taste and go. 

I removed the chicken thighs, took the meat off the bones and returned the bones to the pot, and brought it to a boil again. In another pan, I fried in olive oil the remaining half carrot, which I diced, and a leek, which I thinly sliced (reserving the thick green part for stock, as Google recommended), then added a bit of stock and let it simmer for a bit so the carrot and leek would cook through. I set aside the remaining stock in my thermal pot for another hour or so.

I cooked the pasta separately, but feel free to cook it in the soup. Whilst cooking the pasta (which I did only after the hour or so I wrote of in the paragraph above), I strained the stock into the cooked carrot and leek mixture and added the shredded chicken meat to it, and let it simmer so the chicken would heat through and the carrots and leeks would finish cooking.

Divide pasta into serving bowls and pour hot soup with lots of ingredients over it. I had enough soup for a hearty lunch today. 

FBC liked the unsalted, unpeppered broth mixed with rice cereal. So did I. It seems that the secret to good, flavourful chicken soup is a touch of tomato paste and a pinch of chili flakes. 

***

Last week's run was what Jon calls a FamiRun at the Marina Barrage, so he forbade me from using RunKeeper. I dragged myself out of bed at 6.15am on Wednesday (amazingly, FBC only woke up at 6.30am for his feed) for a run and was in no mood to time it (would YOU be?), but I left the house at about 6.45am and made it back just before 8am, a total distance of 11km or so plus waiting time at the traffic light. Yay! 

Just Around The Hill

What if the world was out of love?
And all that we do don't mean a thing

You take a chance, no suffering

No suffering for anything

You're risking yourself

Do you really want it that way?

The mountain's too high

The answer, is just around the hill

***

Yes, it's been talked about ad nauseam on a thousand other SAHM blogs, but it's true - sometimes, being a mother is the most lonely thing in the world, especially when you feel that nobody, not even your husband, understands all the thousand and one old yet new emotions you're experiencing (jealousy, exhaustion, love, self-doubt). But God always understands and comforts, and I can't imagine what I would do if I didn't have Him in my life.

Confessional writing, that is, as someone wise once pointed out to me. Not very funny or uplifting, is it? Moving on, plus it's difficult to continue feeling glum and isolated when FBC is currently fast asleep and the #potd (puree of the day - well what do you know, Husband was the one who came up with that) has been made and is cooling on the kitchen counter. 

***

I got a chance to make tau you bak (hereinafter referred to as "TYB") for our cell group Chinese New Year dinner last Friday. If you follow me on Facebook, you will know that I was seized with a sudden, overwhelming desire to cook TYB about two weeks ago. Only because I like how meat looks after it's seared, before the braising process, and the way it falls apart after. Oil spatter notwithstanding.

But if I was going to have to clean up oil spatter, the final dish would have to be worth it, right? So I did some research on what would be the best method of cooking TYB - and eventually settled on a method incorporating tips from my mother, and my own experience cooking pork shoulder. Okay, so it may not be REAL TYB because I didn't use pork belly, but I'm all for cleaner eating (you should be too, but I don't want to be accused of being preachy). 

Most of the recipes I came across said to simmer the dish on the stovetop for 30-45 minutes. I also don't recall coming across any recipes using pork shoulder, though comments left on various posts suggested that pork shoulder had been used with the same simmer on stovetop method. Having previously eaten TYB with pork shoulder that was cooked on the stovetop and finding the meat a tad on the dry side, I decided to take the plunge and braise the pork shoulder in my Dutch oven, in the oven. I had achieved excellent, moist results when I last braised pork shoulder this way (in red wine and tomatoes) for our Valentine's Day dinner. 

Essentially, I just made Asian pulled pork. But it was delicious, and so was the chili sauce I put together in about 20 minutes using my food processor. No mortar and pestle, and oven braising? Do I hear the grannies turning in their graves? 

I'm sure they would have approved of these new-fangled angmoh cooking methods though.

TYB, or Asian Pulled Pork

This dish is best prepared the day before you intend to eat it, for maximum flavour to permeate all parts of it. And since you'll probably want to make it for a gathering, because pulled pork always elicits "Wow!"s, it's nice to know you have something you can grab and go and heat up at a friend's place on the day of the gathering. Especially when you have a 5-month old baby in tow.

Feeds 8-10.

The photo on the left is of my lunch today, which was the TYB left over after last Friday's gathering, together with some leftover white rice and homemade chili sauce (recipe follows as well). I have uploaded pictures of the TYB looking like pulled pork on Facebook. Although I was very happy with the end-result of this dish, I was feeding FBC when the time came to eat, so I left the photo-taking to WJ, who failed me (and you). Looks like we may have to make TYB again sometime soon.

Ingredients

Aromatics

• 2 thin slices of ginger
• About 7-10 cloves of garlic, smashed but with skins left on
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 7 cloves
• 2 star anise
• Ground white pepper*
• Rock sugar (I started with about 7 or so small cubes. Adjust this amount according to how big your rock sugar cubes are, 

Others

• About 900g-1kg of pork shoulder (three large chunks)
• 6 tbsp light soy sauce 
• 3 tbsp dark soy sauce (see below for my thoughts on tweaking these proportions. I should also add that my mother's general rule of thumb is to use half as much dark soy sauce as you would light soy sauce whenever a recipe calls for both. )
• About 2 tbsp oil (I use rice bran oil for frying)
• Water
• 6 hard-boiled eggs
• Two blocks of tau kwa, each cut into eight cubes
• Chinese parsley, to garnish

Method

1. Heat oil in a Dutch oven or other large ovenproof pot. Add ginger and garlic and fry until fragrant. The garlic skin should have touches of brown. 
2. Push ginger and garlic to one side of the pot. Add meat, and sear on all sides. Remove meat from  pot.
3. Add aromatics except for ground white pepper, and fry until the rock sugar has melted, then a bit more, for it to caramelise. Add the meat back to the pot and stir it about. Add the ground white pepper. *Most of the recipes I researched called for crushed, whole white peppercorns. I was going to invest in a bottle (it's quite cheap), but I had a packet of lovely Sarawak ground white pepper from my mother at home, so I decided against it. You are of course welcome to use whole white peppercorns instead, I read that it adds a whole lot of flavour, with some bloggers saying it is THE secret to good TYB. Of course, I probably won't know until I use up my Sarawak ground white pepper. Don't fry the ground white pepper together with the other aromatics because it will burn and then your dish will taste yucky. 
4. Add the 6 tbsp of light soy sauce and 3 tbsp of dark soy sauce. That whole smokey thing will happen, and when the smoke clears up, add just enough water to cover 1/3 of the meat. Bring to a boil, cover, and cook in a 160C oven (I turned off the fan) for about 2 hours.

After 2 hours (I recommend taking it out at about 1 hour 50 minutes), remove the pot from the oven and put on the stove. The meat should fall apart nicely. If it doesn't, stick it back in the oven for about 15-20 minutes. Continue doing this until the meat falls apart when you poke into it.

Once you have reached that stage, taste your TYB gravy. I used Kikkoman light soy sauce and Woh Hup dark soy sauce, and I found it too salty. If you find the gravy too salty, start your stove to gently heat the TYB, and add rock sugar in small increments until you get the desired balance. I think I must have added another 7 or so small cubes. You could always reduce the amount of soy sauce used by a tablespoon for each type, i.e. 5 of light soy and 2.5 of dark soy, etc. However, for something like TYB which is in any event meant to be eaten with plain rice, I think it's okay to err on the side of more flavour, and I managed to find a good balance by adding more rock sugar.

Add the peeled hard-boiled eggs (which should be just slightly undercooked. I have read plenty of blog posts about this, but just aggarate nowadays - I would say about 5 minutes at a boil, having put the eggs in cold, then another 5-7 minutes or so at a simmer. Run them under the tap until they're cool enough to peel) and cubed tau kwa to the pot. Let simmer for about 10 minutes or so, covered, then let it cool completely before sticking it in the fridge. 

If you want to eat it the day you make it, go ahead - just let the eggs and tau kwa steep for some time, I would say 2-3 hours should be alright. 

Garnish with Chinese parsley so it looks pretty for photos. It's not strictly necessary, but I like the "green" edge it adds to the flavour of TYB. 

Most of the recipes I read also called for sambal belachan. Since my mother and I couldn't figure out how we should rescue her too salty already made sambal belachan (which would be prone to burning when heated because of all the sugar added), I put the following ingredients in the food processor until I got a nice, bright red chili sauce which went excellently with the TYB (adapted from Fatboo):

• An entire NTUC packaged package of long red chilies - I must have used about 10-12. Roughly chop them. 
• About 7 chili padi from my mother's garden (optional)
• About 5 cloves of garlic, peeled
• A largeish knob of ginger
• About 2-3 tbsp of white vinegar
• About 2 tbsp of sesame oil
• Juice from about 10-12 small limes 
• About a tsp of salt
• About two tsp white sugar (you can start with one, then add another if needed)

Start by processing the chilies until you get a rough paste, then add the garlic and ginger and process some more. Add the other ingredients and taste as you go, adding more of each until you get a taste that's to your liking. After all, that's how they did it in the old days. And I'm beginning to find that the more I cook, the more aware I'm becoming of the different ingredients and how their flavours affect each dish I make. So be bold, and go forth in aggaration.

Because of the white vinegar and lime juice, this chili sauce cuts through the rich flavour of the TYB nicely.