Not all of ’em did of course; although a rough rule of thumb was “the posher, the lesser”. But as a perpetually hungry person, these mothers who did choose to feed me were on the side of the angels (at least as far as I was concerned; I didn’t have to live with them 24×7 as my friends did — merely eat the food put in front of me — so I was maybe a little biased. or at least possibly ignorant of the lived realities of them)
(Apropos of nothing, later on, for a brief period of time, I went out with a girlfriend who refused to eat the skin off roasted or fried chicken. She’d pick it off, eat the meat, leave the skin. I mean the insanity of discarding the tastiest bit of this bird. We didn’t last long.)
I had a Chinese friend, from Hong Kong, at school — he had the best food. I’ve been trying to recall his name for a while now for this piece. I want to say Donnis, but it was a long time ago. Sorry Donnis (if that was indeed your name.) And “Donnis”, I know this isn’t a ‘photo of your Mum either but it comes from a place of fond memory.
His Mum was always keen to pile more onto my side of the table when I went around there to play. I was a skinny little thing, so they always assumed I was perpetually underfed and perpetually hungry. They were certainly right about the latter, which was, and remains, a truism. So, there, I was introduced to dumplings and rice and fried foods and mixed bitter vegetables and stir-fry wok heat and all those other delights, in my early teens. And what an introduction. My first love, I guess.
Then I kinda strayed and was seduced by the siren promises of ‘proper’ cuisine via France & Italy and later Scandinavian countries. Snobbery really, as I was simply aping the received wisdom of others, who saw Asian food as “inexpensive”, not “authentic”, not a “high” style of cooking. Morons. As was I. Now, I’m happy to state for the record that Asian cuisine — and, specifically Chinese — is the best. Anywhere.
To celebrate the food of this particular Mum (and all the others of course!) I was going to use a recipe from this book (from where the Granny photo also came)…
…but in a moment of happenstance, the latest Vittles London piece dropped the same day as I started this one off, so I’m using the recipe for oyster jook with soy-cured egg, by Songsoo Kim. She’s based in London and currently works for Super8 Restaurants, inc. Kiln, Smoking Goat and Brat — who I’ve raved about very recently — as Head of Sourcing and Development. She also has worked as a chef, and on farms for many years in South Korea, India, and the United States, which has led her to her work in a niche role in the restaurant industry. She is an advocate for farms and farmers and believes that cooking and the idea of deliciousness originate from the land.
The recipe itself is behind a (very modest) paywall…
…so you’ll have to be content with the ingredients. I’d highly recommend signing up though, the writing coming out of the Vittles camp is amd has been, consistently, some of the best, brightest and most informative that you’ll find anywhere.
Songsoo writes:
This recipe is based on a dish I remember from when I was around thirteen. It was winter, and we had this oyster jook for breakfast in Myeong-dong, Seoul. It may seem unusual to cook oysters, but by warming them gently in the congee, the oysters become super creamy, simultaneously delicate and rich.
Serves 2
Time 1 hr 15 mins plus 1 hr soaking
Ingredients
for the oyster jook
1L chicken or vegetable stock
200g short grain rice, rinsed and soaked in cold water for 1 hr
salt, to taste
4 oysters
for the soy-cured yolks
2 egg yolks
2 tbsp soy sauce or tamari
to serve
toasted sesame seeds, roughly crushed
toasted sesame oil
Whilst I don’t recall eating this particular dish back in the day, I well might have done. As should you.
