Burmese Mutton Puffs

By: Mrs Robot

Ooops, Christmas came and went with no Greedybots. (In case you’re wondering, this year’s trifle was inspired apple crumble, with lightly poached apples, brandy and cinnamon cake in the base, custard, whipped cream and then crumble fragments on top.) BUT you’re getting a post in January, and you had to wait till February last year so…

We’ve accumulated many cookbooks over the past year, and one we’ve used a lot is Mandalay by Mi Mi Aye. We went to the launch of her first book, Noodle!, which we loved, and were invited to the launch of this one, but my job got in the way. I’ll do a proper review of that in coming weeks, but over the last weekend I made something which didn’t make the cut for Mandalay: seik-thar puffs, or mutton puffs in English. The recipe’s online at Great British Chefs.

The method is interesting, as you fry the onions and garlic first in spices, then do the mutton (okay, I used lamb) and more spices separately, adding cornflour and water and thickening it, then adding the onions later. I’ve learned the hard way to make sure I cook onions properly for Asian dishes, and I know the value of properly browned meat. I was a bit dubious about the cornflour stage – mutton in glue? – but it works brilliantly. I had a bit of meat left over, so ate that on its own. Delicious!

The garlic and turmeric made it taste really Burmese to me. There’s potential here to vary the dish. I think a pork mince would be really interesting, or you could use finely-chopped mushrooms, carrot, water chestnut or other veg with a bit of bite if you want a veggie option. Changing the spices would also make a big change.

Anyway, another great recipe from Mi Mi Aye here!

Dan Dan DAAAAAN!

By: Mrs Robot

I've had a real craving for noodles all of a sudden. I'm not sure why - maybe the coming of spring has put me in a mood for lighter foods than my winter pies and stews. It was a good excuse to revisit some favourite old cookbooks. Given what we had in the kitchen, Dan Dan Mian from Mi Mi Aye's book Noodle! seemed like a good plan.

We'd made Ching-He Huang's recipe for Dan Dan Noodles some time ago, but it wasn't quite our thing. However, her recipe uses tahini paste and Mi Mi's doesn't, plus Mi Mi's seems to use a lot more spicy ingredients, so I thought I'd give it a go and see if we liked her version any better.

As with so many recipes in Noodle!, while the list of ingredients seems long, a quick read of the recipe reveals that the process for making Dan Dan Mian is actually very simple. You can't just start and throw in ingredients as you go along, you need to get everything ready in advance, but as long as you do that, it's very easy to make the dish. Most of the ingredients are store cupboard staples: soy sauce, black vinegar, xiaoxing wine and so on. The only thing we didn't have was Szechuan preserved vegetables. I don't know what those taste like, so subbed in some of Mr Robot's homemade kimchi as that was preserved, vegetable, and tasty.

("Oh, we just substituted homemade kimchi." How poncy does that sound?)

We both very much enjoy Szechuan peppercorns. They have a fearsome reputation, which they really don't deserve. They're numbing, not burning. Chillies make me hiccup, but I can eat those peppercorns with no problems (I occasionally chew them raw, straight out of the jar). Mi Mi's recipe began with oil seasoned with a whole tablespoon of the things, and only got better from there. The resulting minced pork sauce was rich and dark with soy sauce, spicy with Szechuan peppercorns, then stirred by each diner through bland, delicious noodles.

We could quite easily have eaten twice as much, not because the portions are small but because it is delicious and we are greedy. Ziggy, one of our two feral kittens, came along and tried to help himself, but was shunted off pronto.

I will definitely be making this again.

Remembering Thadingyut

By: Mr Robot 

Thadingyut: the festival of light at the October full moon.

M-O-O-N spells Thadingyut

We were in Maymyo (now Pyin Oo Lwin) last time around, digging into Mrs R's heritage, and it was a wonderful experience.

We walked around the town as the sun set, and areas that were unprepossessing by day - and any other time - became magical this night. There were streets of wooden houses surrounded by irrigation ditches, with little wooden bridges across and balustrades around - all lined with dozens and dozens of candles.  Clearly there was precious little in the way of plumbing or electricity. It was dreadfully picturesque. Yet small children excitedly ran out to greet us, and everyone was smiles and goodwill.

It's the closest thing to a Dickens Christmas I've ever seen.

From our hotel. We bought our own candle elephant to remember this night

Amazing to think that was a year ago, but the moon says it must be. So we decided to mark this Thadingyut in our own small way, with some Burmese food and, of course, candles.

Since it's a 3-day festival we've had a couple of nights to play (sadly the third night - the big celebration - is logistically compromised) and turned as ever to MiMi Aye.

For the first night we returned to one of the first Burmese dishes we made: Mogok pork curry. This is a deep, dark, savoury dish, rich with soy and ginger, and soft, sticky pig. It's extremely simple to make and demands only the patience to let it simmer for an hour or so.

We're never entirely sure how runny to make it: it starts off very liquid - intuitively, too liquid - but I suspect my love of massively intense reductions pushes me a bit too far. Certainly all the curries we had in Burma were quite saucy (ooh!), no doubt to spread flavour across the customary ton or two of rice.

Mogok Pork Curry

Mind you, we hardly pretend to great authenticity but merely fudge our way through as best (and respectfully) we can. It's always jolly good anyway.

For the second night we picked up the first of MiMi's recipes we ever saw (Mrs R found it - big up her), and one of the funniest pieces of food writing I've ever read. Honestly - it's right up there with Jerome K Jerome's pineapple tin. Note, however, that this is probably not the moment to get the children involved in the kitchen.

Anyway, once you've got past the evisceration scene, there's the recipe for Gahlar-thar Hin, or Bachelors' Curry: a chicken dish presumably so called because the chances of a snog afterwards are exactly zero. It's VERY garlicky.

Actually that's unfair because I did a big fail: the recipe calls for a shed-load of garlic, onion, tomato, chilli etc to be blitzed into a paste and then cooked off. Guess who got impatient and, therefore, a load of raw garlic...

Bachelors' Curry. Enjoy it - it's the only hot chick you'll get tonight

So if you make this - and I urge you to - be sure to give it a good long time to cook the paste through properly. I mean, there's a lot of paste there. A LOT. It'll take longer than you (or at least I) think.

Happily I was making it a day ahead so was able to give it a good long time to cook most of that rawness out, and let the whole thing mature overnight to boot. This is, as MiMi says, quite a soupy dish with "rice swimming in rich gravy" which turns out to be an excellent idea. It's unusually spicy for Burmese food (in my tiny experience), not bonkers but with a decent hit, and extremely satisfying.

Oh, and if you have a stinking cold ignore all the cooking out stuff and keep the garlic nice and punchy: clears the tubes out a treat.

Happy Thadingyut everybody.

All images (c) PP Gettins

Recipe Review: Bun bo Hue

From Noodle! by MiMi Aye

 

by: Mr Robot

For some reason I got it into my head that this beef & lemongrass delight was called Bun ho Hue rather than Bun bo Hue so I fear I've been saying something absolutely dreadful for the last fortnight. So in the finest tradition of men everywhere - I'm deeply sorry for whatever it was I said. 

I wouldn't have persisted with my error quite so long were it not such an involved dish: I'd planned to cook it last week but given the vast array of meat needed, I had to put a special order in with the butcher (who did us proud as always) and try to control my impatience.

Crucial to any good recipe: vast amounts of MEAT

Pork bones, shin of beef, pork hock and oxtail all get simmered together for about 3 hours to make a wondrously rich broth served over noodles. Simple eh?

Well kind of, but there's plenty of other stuff going on - not least 12 stalks of lemongrass (basically clearing out Asda's supply for the week) - along with onion, ginger, garlic and pineapple. Supposedly rock sugar too but all I could find was palm so that had to do.

Lemongrass, and lots of it. Also pineapple, onion, ginger, sugar and shrimp paste

One thing that gave me some concern was the shrimp paste. Four tablespoons of the stuff. It's an ingredient I treat with something between caution and terror being so very pungent and frankly waaaay too fishy for comfort. But if I've learned anything from MiMi's recipes it's to shut the fuck up and do as you're told. So I did.

And of course I needn't have worried. Not only is the shrimp paste distributed in several litres of liquid (I'd kind of over-ordered on the meat!) but the hours of simmering cooked out the fishiness to leave an intense savouriness. A bit like people say anchovies will, only they lie.

In fact it was a fascinating process. Early on the smell (and an unwise tasting) was pretty grim and I feared we'd end up with a horrible waste, in every sense. But as the afternoon wore on it just smelled better and better.

This is a recipe that demands faith of its followers, yea verily and they shalt be rewarded.

A big pot o' love

So after a considerable period of lounging on the sofa saying things like, "Gosh that's starting to smell good" and, "Ooh I just got a big whiff of lemongrass" and, "Bollocks - I've just remembered I meant to save half that oxtail for something else" we eventually haul ourselves up to see what we've got.

Sorry but it actually was pulled

The recipe says to slice up the pork and beef but so very tender was it that I just gave it a Paddington hard stare and it basically dismantled itself. Perhaps that meant I'd overcooked it but it was so delicious I couldn't give a monkeys.

At this stage I did take the opportunity to remove the bigger lumps of fat and strip the oxtail from the bones. I've no doubt this would give any self-respecting Vietnamese person the shudders but I'm still dealing with the trauma of my Grandmother's cookery so believe me, it was for the best.

From there it's very simple - pile noodles, meat, broth and garnishes in a bowl and start grunting.

Do not forget the trimmings

As with so many of these recipes though, the garnish isn't some optional extra - it's vital to the overall balance of the dish. So far we have a bowl of complexity but huge - in fact challenging - richness. You need something to balance that out: in this case lime, blanched onion, chilies and coriander leaves give acidity an freshness and take the whole thing up a level. 

In fact Mrs R commented that my laying thin slices of lime on top of the warm broth caused the lime scent to rise above the bowl making the whole thing more aromatic. Naturally I feel quite smug about that even though I'd only done it to look pretty. Remember that then.

I should also have had beansprouts on there but due to the delay getting my meat in, they'd gone a bit manky, which was a shame because they would have given a nice textural difference. As it was the only crunch was from the onions and of course I didn't want to overdo those.

Overall this is a lengthy operation - a good four hours start to finish - but it's quite undemanding and most of that time is your own. Given the quantity and variety of meats I'd consider this an Occasion dish, for which a 4-hour simmering one-pot is ideal, and could see it making a great alternative for those jaded by the Christmas turkey. Because what you get after all that time and very little effort is something rich, fragrant, complex and comforting - it felt like a real treat on a miserable grey weekend.

 

Update: Mercifully the recipe makes a HUGE quantity and after accidentally losing a whole day to the pub, I can testify that it's a wonderful restorative for the filthily hungover...

 

 

As ever, if you were hoping to blag a free recipe here you’ll be disappointed – we don’t do that. These cooks need to make a living just like anyone else. However you can buy a signed copy of the book direct from MiMi's website, and isn't that much better really?

All images (c) PP Gettins

Where did all the noodles go....

By: Mr Robot

It's a while ago now, but the confluence of Sam & Sam Clarke talking about Morito and MiMi Aye's Noodle! book launch also marked the approximate end of our Asian food month.

Inspired by both the food and the surprising weight loss of our Burma trip we'd decided to go for a rematch on home turf in the hopes of eating well, learning something about cuisines we're shamefully ignorant of, and perhaps being a bit less porky. So how did it go?

Porky. Like me.

Well as far as the weight thing is concerned, Mrs R lost a little bit and I failed miserably. I think that's a combination of non-existent portion control (never seemed an issue in Burma, mind) and my taking the "unlimited beer" element a tad literally. Plus I'd find myself lunching on crappy sandwiches Chez Esso and thus undermining the whole thing.

Uyen Luu's Beef, Anise & Lemongrass stew: amazing eating

On the other hand, we ate amazingly well, and continue to do so. We would be genuinely wowstruck by both the food itself and the fact that we had made it. If for no other reason, everyone in the world should try cooking a totally new* cuisine just to get that sense of bewildered pride that comes of slavishly following instructions exploring a new flavour palette.

*ie. previous experience pretty much consisted of Mr Lau's very fine takeaway up the road and some eateries in Bath: home cooking practically nil.

We had three bibles and have come to love all of them:

Uyen Luu's My Vietnamese Kitchen was a complete revelation. We'd never eaten Vietnamese before, (never really thought of it to be honest), but it's a mighty attractive tome and the recipes are deceptively simple. Clearly with no context we could be producing absolute travesties, but if we are they're bloody tasty ones.

Summer Rolls. Probably a travesty

MiMi Aye's Noodle! which, for the pedants out there, went on sale a couple of weeks before the official launch, and has literally a hundred things to do with noodles. We're getting on for 10% in by now and nothing has let us down. It also contains recipes for things we had in Burma so carries a certain Proustian delight. Ah, sweet Madeleine - what a gal.

Shan Noodles like we had in Shan State, surprisingly

Ching-he Huang's Chinese Food Made Simple because Mrs R got bored of me constantly replaying it on TiVo. And yes it is very simple - at least to a chef of my standing. Ahem. My obsession point here was the Sichuan hot pot vat-of-chillies-thing which I've still never made because it's a hell of a faff and you really need friends round(which I don't have) BUT I do have a good inch or so extra round the tum thanks to everything else in there.

Ching-he Huang's Spiced Lamb on Orange & Fennel salad

We wouldn't pretend to be halfway competent of course, but a month focussing on a single style - even continentally broad - does wonders for the confidence and is great fun. We have eight to ten new staple dishes to roll out whenever, but more importantly our enthusiasm has only grown.

So at the end of our month, what had we learned?

• Fish sauce has a permanent place in our cupboards
• Dipping sauce
• Thai basil needs to be eaten RIGHT NOW
• Char siu is not only doable at home, it's practically compulsory
• How to make mince with a cleaver
• The less familiar the cuisine, the more fun you'll have
• Once you let the wife call a dish Snakes On A Plane, she will never stop

Ants Climbing Trees. Not, repeat NOT, Snakes On A Plane

All images (c) PP Gettins

Recipe Review: Pad Kee Mao / Drunken Noodles

From Noodle! by MiMi Aye

By: Mr Robot

Ok, so I know the internet stalking now looks all too real, but I've just made this and had quite a lot of wine and couldn't help myself.

Unacountable lack of cocktail umbrella. Sorry.

I've been wanting to cook Drunken Noodles ever since MiMi used them to call me a wally (don't ask) so finally, today, I did it. And I beg of you, make them.

The recipe claims "15 minutes to make, 10 minutes to cook" but if your knife skills are anything like mine that's a big fat lie. And pencil in a good 20 minutes extra faffing around looking for two varieties of soy sauce, wondering whether to deseed chillies (don't), forgetting to separate the noodles with a fork then remembering then trying then having to unpick the jellied mass strand by strand and, finally, negotiating with the cat to stop fighting the Thai Basil please.

Also the 10 minutes to cook is probably true, but MiMi probably has a far bigger wok/pan than you will ever, ever own. In reality it'll take twice that long because you not so much "toss to mix" as delicately coax integration whilst silently pleading with it all not to leap out and combust. 

Don't get me wrong though - it's your (my) own ineptness getting in the way of a recipe that's remarkably simple AND fun AND massively delicious. 

Anyway.

Cook noodles, mix sauce. Fry onion & garlic and then chicken & veg. then - here's the fun bit - make a well in the middle and scramble eggs in. Try not to end up with lots of liquid in the middle at this point: I did, and swore.

Then another well in the middle for sauce and noodles. 

Add other deliciousness and you're about as happy as a Greedybot can be. Mrs R reckons it's the best thing from the book yet - and she's eaten the Vietnamese Pork Patties. 

MiMi's book says it should be fiery hot but that she's moderated it, and I'd go with that: double the chilli and it'll be (I imagine) quite literally incredible.

The anise from Thai / Holy Basil gives a roundness and depth that's nigh-on addictive, eggs make it rich, the sauce is - oh jeez the sauce...

So anyway, first time up I'd give it maybe an hour or a bit more to make.

But it is SO worth it. 

Final point: the recipe claims to feed four, and for once it genuinely does. Or should. There being only two of us, we had 2nds. And then some more. And then we cried because there was none left.

Is this a dynamic stir-fry shot, or someone getting their 5th portion?

(except the tub I hid in the fridge, but don't let on)

If you were hoping to blag a free recipe here you’ll be disappointed – we don’t do that. These cooks need to make a living just like anyone else so if you like the look, buy the book

All images (c) PP Gettins

Noodlewhack! MiMi Aye's book launch

By: Mr Robot

A few months before our trip to Burma we were looking around the interweb for foodie things to get in the mood, and found MiMi Aye's excellent blog which is both stuffed with Burmese recipes and culture, and a highly entertaining read. So, as you do, we started stalking her on twitter and eventually became e-chums.

Noodlebook

So of course we were excited when her book Noodle! came out but even more excited - and not a little amazed - to be invited to the official book launch in Big London. Extra cat food was slapped in dishes and off we trumped.

It was held in the Draper's Arms in darkest Islington and naturally the combination of First Great Western, TfL, and my own poor judgement meant we got there about an hour late. MiMi was already on her feet when we arrived and, since the place was unsurprisingly heaving, we were crammed in the doorway trying not to interrupt anyone (already on the back foot, country-mouse-wise).

What you get for turning up late

Which is kind of a long way of apologising for the bobbins picture.

Anyway it was a splendid evening. Not only did we finally get to meet MiMi in person, she'd laid on a wonderful selection of food from the book, including Burmese Rainbow Salad and homemade Bombay Mix. There was also this salted-chocolate-brownie thing that was so good I practically inhaled it.

Rainbow Salad

Chocolatey Salty Deliciousness

The Vietnamese pork patties are magnificent and worth the cover price alone.

See the big empty space at the back? I did that

We already had the book (bought on the first day out, keeners that we are) and had tried a few recipes, so it's with absolutely no favouritism that we recommend it highly.

"Ants Climbing Trees" made by my own fair hand

Nontheless we had to get a signed copy too (the existing one already being shamefully spattered) and pick up extras for friends. We got to meet a couple of other twitter-pals for the first time as well, which was great, though were sad to find we'd missed some too (easily done: as a conversational opening gambit, "so who are you on the internet?" seems somewhat lacking).

MINE!

In some ways it felt a bit odd - almost fraudulent - being there, in the company of Masterchef and Bake-Off types and proper actual foodies.

Actual foodies. probably

It's a world we're a long way away from, and felt privileged to be part of it.

Thanks MiMi.


PS. We stayed on Old Street, which is full of exciting eateries. If you're in the area we can highly recommend The Reliance for lots of fine beer with a good atmosphere, and the Banh Mi place next door for an outstanding breakfast to recover

Banh Mi for breakfast: what hangovers were designed for

All images (c) PP Gettins