A Summer Meal - Linguini with Garlic, Chili, Prawns and Coriander

Summer has me wanting a glass of iced mint lemonade all the time.

It's the only thing that will get me through a hot, sweaty day. Something tangy, minty, citrusy bright and cold...Oh yeahh. I plan my meals based on this drink -- anything that goes with it is in, and the rest gets stocked in the freezer! And what goes with tangy, minty, citrusy bright and cold lemonade?

Something garlicky...No heavy sauces, just beautiful, jade green olive oil.

And some freshly chopped chilies.

And some fragrant coriander leaves to spruce things up.

I don't get what people mean when they say that coriander leaves smell grassy. What's grassy? Do you know?

I think I'm gonna bung in some prawns to create a more substantial meal. But still totally elegant.

And I think all of that will go with some pasta. Pasta and minty lemonade, and fabulous weather. Ahhhh.

Linguini with Garlic, Chili, Prawns and Coriander

For 1 person

Enough pasta for a generous serving, preferrably spaghetti, linguini or fettucini

3 fat garlic cloves, sliced thinly

1 chili with seeds, sliced thinly

A handful of prawns, shelled

A handful of young coriander leaves

Olive oil

Chicken stock cube, salt and pepper

Some extra coriander leaves for scattering on top

Boil a big pot of water. Only when it comes to the boil, add some salt and add the pasta.

In the mean time, heat up some olive oil on a pan over low heat. Saute the garlic and chili. Once they become fragrant, add the prawns and crumble in the stock cube.

Once the pasta is al dente, drain well and add the pasta to the pan. Add the coriander leaves and stir everything well until the leaves wilt slightly. Season with salt and pepper. 

Serve it on a big pasta plate and scatter the remaining coriander leaves on top.

Spicy Prawn Curry (Gulai Udang)

This is one of those sinfully delicious dishes. Not because of the prawns -- contrary to common belief, prawns  contain more good fat than bad fat, and are good for your health. No, this dish is sinful because of the coconut milk, which is the base of the sauce. It's cooked for a long time until it has a very thick consistency, studded with spices and very rich in flavor. Part of the coconut milk will be turned into coconut oil, which will be red in color from the chilies. Although you won't think it, this red oil is actually very flavorful -- just a bowl of hot steamed rice slicked with this oil and the curry sauce is heavenly, but you can take it up a notch by using it to make fried rice!

I grew up visiting my maternal grandparents every other weekend. My grandma would cook up a storm in her tiny kitchen every time we would come over. She had several special dishes up her sleeve that she made over and over, and this dish is one of them. Her version also contains stinky beans and hard-boiled quail's eggs, which really take the dish over the top. Mine is the simpler, student-kitchen-in-the-Netherlands version. 

I often wonder what life would be like had my grandma not passed away when I was young. I loved having a grandma, and she was everything a grandma was supposed to be. She was sweet, loving and tender. She completely adored me and was never mad at me. She was such a lady -- her gray hair was always neatly pulled up into a bun, she had the best smell, and she always wore such pretty colours. She tended to her rose garden so carefully, only to have her roses plucked and chopped up by me when they bloomed. I remember looking up at her from my toy kitchenette, her roses completely butchered up on my toy kitchen counter, me grinning the naive grin of a child who didn't understand the time and labor that went into those delicate flowers. "These are the chilies," I said, pointing at the rose petals. She'd grin back at me. 

She'd then feed me the fried chicken that she made especially for me, the best one in the world. She'd tell my mother not to get angry at me for ruining the roses again. She'd bring me in for a nap when the heat and the humidity had gotten the best of me. She'd fan me with a magazine when the rackety air-conditioning would be making too much noise again and disturbing my sleep. Sunday afternoons at grammy's were the one of the highlights of my childhood.

Even to this day, one of the most vivid memories I have of my childhood is of my grandma, sitting on her small kitchen stool, chopping up vegetables and grinding spices, her back turned towards me. Although I never had the chance to learn about cooking from her, I feel like when I make this dish, I may be continuing her cooking legacy. Who knows, maybe it even tastes quite similar to hers.

Spicy Prawn Curry (Gulai Udang)
For 4 people

4 large handfuls prawns, cleaned (it's up to you to keep the shells intact or not)
5 kaffir lime leaves
juice of 1/2 lime
1 lemongrass, stalk bruised, or 1 tsp powdered lemongrass
chicken/vegetable stock cube
salt and sugar to taste
500 ml coconut milk

To be made into a spice paste:
7 shallots
5 garlic cloves
10 chilies
1 tbsp coriander seeds

With a blender, a food processor or a pestle and mortar, make a smooth spice paste using the spice paste ingredients. Add oil or water to make it easier to blitz everything into a smooth paste.

On a hot wok, heat up some oil (less if you've added some to the blender) and sautee the spice paste with the lime leaves until everything is fragrant and cooked.

Add the lime juice, lemongrass, coconut milk, stock cube and sugar. Once it comes to the boil, lower the heat and add the prawns. The reason why we're not adding salt at this point is that the sauce will be cooked until it's reduced, and once it's reduced, you may find that the stock cube was enough to salt the curry.

Keep cooking on a low heat until the sauce is reduced to a very thick consistency. The curry is done when red oil starts to surface. Taste and add salt if needed.

Serve with hot steamed rice.

Crispy Fried Fish with Spicy Yellow Sauce (Ikan Pesmol)

One of the most perfect Indonesian lunches, in my opinion, consists of this dish, served with stir-fried snake beans, bean sprouts and tempe, and a plate of hot steamed rice. This is Indonesian home cooking, and definitely something that my grandmother, mother and aunts have been cooking and eating their whole lives. It is light and delicious with many different textures and colors. I get very greedy when I see this being served on the table!

I use dorado fish in this dish (called mahi-mahi in Indonesian), but you can use any mild-tasting fish like pomfret, gourami or sea bass. I prefer smaller fish that can be fried until very crispy, although some people prefer thick, meaty fish fillets. It's really up to you. The sauce is mouthful and savoury, slightly spicy from the chilies, fragrant with lime leaves and slightly sweetened by the tender spring onion. The candlenuts make the sauce taste very rich without making it heavy, which means it doesn't mask the taste of the fish. Perfect for a seafood lunch.

The accompanying vegetable dish, stir-fried snake beans, bean sprouts and tempe is one of the easiest vegetarian stir-fries there is. It takes hardly any time to cook, and perfect to be eaten on its own because the tempe provides protein and a meaty bite. Because it tastes very mild, it's a suitable pairing for bolder-tasting dishes. 

Crispy Fried Fish with Spicy Yellow Sauce (Ikan Pesmol)

For 6 people

6 whole fish/fish fillets (dorado, pomfret, gourami, sea bass), 1 per person

Juice of 2 limes

3 tsp powdered turmeric

3 lime leaves

5 or more chilies (a mix of red, orange and green), cut into diagonal slices

2 spring onion, cut into 3-cm chunks

2 medium tomatoes, cut into wedges

200 ml water

Salt and sugar to taste

To be made into a smooth paste:

9 shallots

5 garlic cloves

3 tsp powdered turmeric

2 cm ginger or 2 tsp powdered ginger

2 cm galangal or laos

1 lemongrass, the thick white part only

9 candlenuts

If using whole fish, make sure the fish is scaled, gutted and thoroughly cleaned. Cut deep diagonal slices on the flesh of the fish, and mix the fish with the lime juice (save 2 tablespoon for later use), turmeric powder and some salt. Leave to marinate in the fridge for about 20 minutes.

Using a blender or a pestle and mortar, make a smooth paste of the spice paste ingredients. Saute the paste on a hot wok with some oil. Once fragrant, add the lime leaves, chilies, the remaining 2 tablespoon lime juice and water. Add salt and sugar to taste.

Once it comes to the boil, lower the heat and add the tomatoes and spring onion. The low heat will ensure that the tomato juice comes out and flavors the sauce. Simmer for 5-10 more minutes.

Meanwhile, deep-fry the fish until golden brown and very crispy. Drain on kitchen paper. To serve, pour the sauce over the fish and serve immediately.

Stir-Fried Snake Beans, Bean Sprouts and Tempe

For 6 people

3 large handfuls snake beans, cut into 3-cm chunks

4 large handfuls bean sprouts

2 large handfuls tempe, cut into 3-cm sticks 

5 garlic cloves, sliced thinly

3 shallots, sliced thinly

4 chilies, cut into diagonal slices

2 spring onion, cut into 3-cm chunks

1 chicken/vegetable stock cube

Salt, sugar and white pepper to taste

1 cup water

On a wok over high heat, heat up a few tablespoons of oil and sautee the garlic, shallots and chilies until fragrant. Add the snake beans and tempe. Season with the stock cube, salt, sugar and pepper. Add the water and turn the heat down to medium.

Once the snake beans and tempe are half cooked, add the bean sprouts and spring onion. Stir-fried until everything is cooked through but still crunchy. Do not overcook to retain the beautiful vibrant colours. 

Serve immediately.

Prawns and Broccoli in Oyster Sauce

I just love seafood.

I grew up enjoying countless seafood dishes made by my mother, who is a superb cook. We had a weekend ritual -- every Sunday, we'd wake up early, go to the traditional market near my house, and buy a few days' worth of groceries. Grocery shopping with mum was always great fun, because she shopped generously, would always buy the most exotic fruits for dessert, and let you get anything you want. "It is, after all, the weekend," she'd say approvingly with a wink.

It was a marvelous traditional market with rows and rows of fresh produce, colorful traditional cakes and snack vendors with their fried goodies piled high, which were my absolute favorite. Those were the innocent days when I didn't worry about food coloring or fat content. With its narrow alleyways, muddy streets, stinky corners and sweaty shoppers, the market was not for everyone, but to my 10-year-old eyes, it was a magnificent and vibrant place full of all sorts of delicious things to cook. I think my love for cooking began there.

My job was to carry the shopping bags. We would start at the greengrocer's, where my mum would buy kilos of water spinach and cabbage and tomatoes and aubergines and stinky beans. Then we would move on to our butcher's, where huge chunks of meat hang on hooks from the ceiling, hovering slightly over our heads. The smell of the fresh meat would be so overpowering, and I'd always be stuck in between fat mothers who were competing to get the best part of the cow. I'd leave my mum, who'd be bargaining with the butcher, to order our chicken from the chicken lady. She had one of those huge ginzu knives that would make a convincing thud as it whammed at the chicken, cutting it into 8 pieces. And then we would get to the seafood vendor.

Ahh. That was the best part. Fish and fish and even more fish and prawns and squid and octopus and lobsters and tuna fillets and tiny shrimps and mussels and clams, all fresh off the boat and gleaming at me. My mother, who was wise enough to start educating me about food and cooking early in my life, would tell me to pick the freshest fish for her. At first I was disgusted at the idea of touching fish and checking the color of their gills and poking at the flesh to test the bounciness, but thankfully she made me do it anyway. Amazingly, when fish is really fresh, it doesn't smell fishy, it just smells fresh and briny like the sea! It became a personal joy to get my hand wet picking the best victims for our dinner. When I came to the Netherlands, I was surprised to find out how many people (also older ones) who don't know how to pick fresh fish. Their fish comes gutted and filleted in a styrofoam packaging in a supermarket. I think that can't compare to shopping for fish at a fish vendor.

Whatever sea bounty that we would bring home, my mum would always turn it into something delicious and special. Fried fish simply spiced with salt and turmeric, little fishes fried until crisp and tossed in a fiery chili sauce, prawns tossed in butter and honey, thick cod fillets cooked in a yellow curry with orange and green chili peppers, grilled squid drizzled with a sweet soy sauce...It helped me to embrace all sorts of food, and to instinctively look for variety in the ingredients that I use, now that I cook for myself.

This simple prawn and broccoli dish reminds me of home -- it's simply cooked, fresh and good for you. A lot of people are afraid of eating too much prawn because of its cholesterol content, but it's actually recently proven to be untrue. Prawns are an excellent source of protein and are lower in calories than meat, and actually help you to increase the level of healthy fat in your body, the kind that is good for you. Just google it!

Prawn and Broccoli in Oyster Sauce

For 2 people

1 tbsp Shaohsing rice wine/Chinese cooking wine/sherry

1 tbsp salty soy sauce

3-4 tbsp oyster sauce

1 tbsp sweet soy sauce (Indonesian kecap manis)

1 heaping tsp cornflour

a pinch ground white pepper

a dash of sesame seed oil

3 garlic cloves, minced

1/2 cup water

2 handfuls of medium prawns

2 handfuls of broccoli florets

oil for cooking

Mix the rice wine, salty soy sauce, oyster sauce, sweet soy sauce, white pepper and sesame seed oil in a cup. Dilute the cornflour in a few tablespoons of water and add to the sauce mix, mix well. Add the rest of the water and mix well. 

Heat some oil in a wok on a high heat until very hot and smoking. Toss in the garlic and stir fry for a few seconds. Add the prawns and toss around in the wok until the skin becomes pinkish. 

Add the broccoli, toss around for 20 seconds or so, then add a splash of water to create some steam. Cover and cook for a minute or two, just to get the broccoli crisp-tender (cooked through but still retaining a bite). 

Uncover, add the sauce and mix well. Lower the heat a bit if it starts splattering. Cook until the sauce thickens. Add more water if you like the dish to be more saucy. 

Have a taste and add more seasoning according to your liking.

Dish out and serve.