In my previous post, I mentioned that there’s nothing on earth quite like the smell of bacon in the morning. Well, with this little invention, you can!

Presenting the Wake n’ Bacon alarm clock!  The alarm goes off, and it starts to cook the bacon inside for 10 minutes using Halogen lamps. Voila! You get the smell of fresh bacon greeting you in the morning.

I’m sold.

My birthday is coming *cough cough*.

To me, there’s nothing quite like indulging in a sinful breakfast to end a week and start a new one. And I’m certain there are very few other things on this planet that can get my stomach yearning than the smell of bacon cooking.

I had all the ingredients in the kitchen already, so its just a matter of construction. Cooking time is short, but the effects on your soul will last for the whole day.

Ingredients:
2 pieces of bread
3 slices of bacon
2 eggs
Olive Oil

First off, take a pan and fry your bacon with a little olive oil. You don’t need too much because the pig will release it’s own. You just need enough oil to prevent initial sticking. Depending how you like your bacon, take it off when you’re happy and set aside.

For the bread, I like to cut off the crust because it just doesn’t taste sexy as a part of french toast. Break one egg onto a plate and whip it up with a little salt. To assemble, take your bacon and sandwich it between two slices of bread. Gently dip the entire sandwich in egg and leave it in to soak up the egg for a few seconds. Be warned, it will get a bit messy. If you hold it with too much strength, you’ll squish it so be gentle, it’s worth it.

Next, add a little olive oil to the pan (and butter if you wish), and when hot, place the whole sandwich in. Cook it for a minute or so, then turn over and give it another minute. Of course, this depends on how hot your pan is, so keep an eye out for it. As long as the bread starts looking like a french toast, its done because the bacon is cooked anyway. Remove and set aside.

If eggs are your thing, then you can fry up the last egg any way you like then top on your sandwich. For me, there’s no better method of egg cooking then fried, sunny side up. Serve with your ugly french toast. It should look a little like this:

Enjoy.

As much as I think there’s nothing more satisfying than planning and cooking an elaborate meal for my friends and family, there are days when I get by with the simplest, quickest meals constructed out of ingredients lurking in my fridge or cupboard. This month, there were two such dinners, both revolved around instant noodles.

A few mondays ago, I came home tired from work and needed a quick yet hearty meal end the day. Surveyed the fridge and found the big bowl of homemade tomato sauce left over from the Pittza Party I prepared for my family the night before, and a big pack of frozen mixed seafood. There’s half a dish right there! Checked the cupboards, and had a half pack of instant spaghetti left. Marinara anyone?

Assembly is easy. Big pot of water on the boil with a dash of olive oil and salt, cook noodles until al dente. In the meantime, saute a few cloves of sliced garlic followed by the mixed seafood. Add a splash of white wine, and the tomato sauce. Once pasta is cooked, drain and reserve a bit of the cooking water. Toss pasta through the seafood sauce and add a little of the reserve cooking liquid if it gets clumpy. Top with fresh basil if you have. Serve.

Tonight’s dinner was one of those nights. I had no idea what to cook, and once again searched the cupboards and fridge. I found a pack of pork sukiyaki meat, fish paste and golden mushrooms we stocked up for a steamboat which haven’t yet happened. Half a dish right there! Checked my cupboards and found a pack of korean spareribs flavored instant noodles. FrankenMee anyone?

Frankenstein + Noodles = FrankenMee

FrankenMee is another conception out of my misguided culinary exploits. Essentially its made up of instant noodles with anything you can squeeze into a pot.

Assembly is even easier. Cook noodles as desired, and dump everything other ingredient into the pot, in order of which takes longer to cook. Be careful not to overcook the noodles. Serve.

This “dish” (if you can even call it that) is not the first, my most glorious FrankenMee was on New Year’s Day 2007 which had luncheon meat, squid, sliced beef, mushrooms, fish paste, vegetables, ikan bilis and an omelette, all in a kimchi flavored soup.

Who says instant noodles are bad? Yes, its probably bad if that’s the only thing you eat. But think of it like a blank canvas for you to cook anything with. It’s terribly forgiving if you’re not a frequent cook, and if you’re adventurous it will happily go along to where you want to take it. Try it and tell me your favorite way with Instant noodles.

Tonight’s dinner was something I wanted to try making for a while now. Historically, this dish is said to be a poor man’s dish because onions were plentiful back then, and terribly easy to grow. According to Wiki, legend has it that this dish could have originated from King Louis XV of France, waking up one night with the munchies.

Whatever it is, I recall one particular version I had which had every component right – flavorful beef-infused broth, sweetened by fragrant onions topped with a thick piece of bread smothered in hot dripping cheese. Comfort food at it’s finest.

Here’s my simple version:

Large white onions (about 1.5 for every person)
One clove of garlic
Beef broth*
Half a wine glass of dry white wine
1/2 tablespoon of flour
Sprig of Thyme
One Bay Leaf
Butter and olive oil for frying
Salt and pepper to taste
Baguette
Gruyere cheese

*Beef broth – For a simple homemade version, just take beef bones and one quartered onion and bring to simmer uncovered, very gently in a pot of water for a few hours.

First, roughly chop the onions. Be warned that chopping 3 large white onions can cause a constant stream of tears. If you have a low tolerance, please use a food processor. Though I must add that a good cry is rather therapeutic once in a while. Roughly chop garlic as well.

Take a large pot, whack in the butter and some olive oil and dump in all the chopped onions, followed by garlic. Add the sprig of Thyme and Bay Leaf. Now, this is important, you’ll need to slowly cook the onions down, allowing caramelization to take place. This will allow the breakdown of the onions’ sugars and release the more complex flavors. Keep the heat low-to-medium, and you can take your eyes off and go do something else (like drying your tears). Come back once every few minutes to give it a stir. In about 40-45 minutes, you’ll see that the onions will have come down in volume, the color will be a nutty brown and the kitchen will be filled with a sweet aroma. Remember, don’t turn up the heat to rush this, and add a little more olive oil if it looks too dry, but it should be OK.

When you’re happy with the onion’s state, add the flour and stir for a minute or so. You’re making a Roux, which is fancy French term for a thickener. The Chinese version would be corn flour mixed with water, but we’re not cooking chinese today. Bring the heat up a little, you’ll want to cook the flour for at least a minute to rid the raw floury taste. After that, add the wine and start scraping the bottom of the pot, deglazing all the yummy bits. Add the broth, turn the heat up to almost a boil and bring down to simmer covered. After 30 minutes or so, you’re done with the soup.

To serve, slice your baguette thick and toast. Scoop soup in oven-proof bowls or ramekins. Float your baguette on the soup and top with as much gruyere as you like. Place your bowls in your pre-heated oven (of about 220 degrees celsius) and keep an eye on your bowls. Once the cheese is melted and a little brown, take it out. Careful not to let your baguette burn.

It should look like this (halfway through eating – sorry).

One last thing, if you don’t have oven-proof ramekins like me, just prepare the baguette with cheese separately and float it on your soup after. A normal bowl can’t take the heat and you might end up with cracked or worse, broken bowls and hot soup on your toes.

Enjoy.

Last weekend was all about food, so here’s another food post.

I didn’t really want to post this because the accompanying picture is quite ugly because I have an inability to frame and arrange a nice shot when there’s food waiting for me to consume.

Anyway, I digress. Mussels, yes. They are scientifically classified as bivalve molluscs, which means they have two symmetrical shells joined by a hinge. Mussels exist in both marine and freshwater varieties. They are filter feeders, and dine on free-floating plankton by drawing water in from its incurrent siphon, passing it through their tummies then purging the waste after.

Too scientific? Yes, I think so too. End of my Animal Planet segment.

What’s important when buying mussels (and I guess all seafood) is freshness. The mussels should still be alive when you buy it. If you mussel is closed, that’s a good sign. It’s a reflex thing for the mussel to clam up (pun intended) when its removed from it’s habitat, and they should be sealed very shut. If you find a mussel that opened its doors to enjoy the breeze, give it a sharp tap with your finger or another mussel and it should slam shut. If it doesn’t, its deader than dog shit. Discard.

Take your mussels home. You now need to wash it. Scrub it clean under running water and pull out the beard that sticks out from the mussel. This is called the Byssus, and it helps the mussel attach itself to its under water surroundings. It’s gross and reminds me of a very used tampon string. Yank it off and throw it away.

Now to cook.

For the simplest, most basic recipe, you’ll need the following:

Mussels
1 wine glass of white wine
1 onion, chopped
2-3 cloves of garlic, chopped
1 sprig of fresh thyme (or a bunch of parsley)

Start with a pot that has a tight-fitting lid, add some olive oil and saute the onions over medium heat followed by garlic. In this order because garlic burns very easily and becomes bitter, having the onion first helps to distribute the heat that could blacken your garlic when you’re not looking.

When onions are slightly brown, turn the heat up and throw in your mussels and thyme. Give it a quick stir to distribute the onions. Try and coat the mussels with onions as much as possible. Then pour in the wine and cover.

With oven gloves, give the whole pot a shake every few minutes or so just to move the mussels around. Once the mussels open up, they’re ready to eat. If any remain shut, they’re deader than dog shit too. Discard. But careful not to overcook, if not it’ll turn leathery. Scoop the mussels out with your slotted spoon and you’re left with the lovely broth left behind. It should be a little watery but full of flavor. I whacked in dollop of butter, and left it over high heat to cook off some of the liquid, just to intensify the flavor.

In the meantime, warm some bread and set your table. After a few minutes, the broth should have thickened a little. Check seasoning and pour over mussels to serve. Eat with your hands, and use the warm bread to mop up all the juices.

Once you mastered this, the possibilities to improvise are endless. You can add in a chopped, deseeded chili for a fiery bite. Or you could throw in some bashed lemongrass and thicken the broth with coconut milk for a Thai inspired version. Or even an Italian version, cooking it in homemade tomato sauce.

Enjoy.