Dinner duty

The wife has been a bit under the weather for the past two days and so tonight, I took the opportunity to revive my cooking skills.

I had my son cook the rice and also make some scrambled eggs. I decided to try out the sambal ikan bilis belimbing buluh recipe that I included in the previous post. Our belimbing tree is still sprouting bunches of fruits and I picked some fresh ones to be used in this dish.

Since it was the first time of trying, I wasn't sure what to expect. As all good cooks know, the method mentioned in any recipe is generally just a guide. It takes a fair bit of judgement and personal experience to decide on just when and how much a particular ingredient is to be added. For example, the phrase `... goreng hingga kekuningan' can be quite ambiguous to a novice. To what degree of `kuning' shall the paste be fried to?

Anyway, I could not follow the recipe exactly because I did not have shallots (substituted with plain bawang besar) and bird's eye chillies (replaced with plain cili hijau). Although I used a bit of soy sauce, the sambal did not quite turn out totally black (is it supposed to be?). It was more of a deep dark brown colour. I suspect it would've turned darker if I continued to fry it until `garing', as spelt out in the recipe. But rather than risk it being overcooked, I stopped the frying just as when I thought it tasted about right.

So exactly how did my sambal hitam taste? Not as good as the ones my Pahang-based readers have mentioned, I'm sure, but boleh la... as a first attempt. According to my wife and sons, not too bad. The sambal has a nice tangy taste of the asam belimbing while maintaining the flavour of the ikan bilis.

With a bit more practice, I believe I can improve on the taste. I'm sure using shallots instead of large onions makes a big difference. The quality of the ikan bilis itself is quite important too. In the hands of a master cook, this dish is guaranteed mouth-watering. It goes down well with plain white rice. I reckon it would also go well with ubi rebus.

While I was at it, I also cooked another version of ikan bilis goreng asam... basically as a back-up, just in case the sambal hitam attempt resulted in failure. This recipe is a variation of the one I learnt from my mother. It involves frying the ikan bilis until crisp and then temporarily set aside. Fry some chopped onions, garlic and chopped green chillies until fragrant. Add a dash of oyster sauce and soy sauce plus salt to taste. The original version would then use a bit of air asam jawa (tamarind paste mix). I substituted this with fresh asam belimbing slices. After a few minutes of frying, the ikan bilis is added back into the pan and mixed well with the sauce.

Served with hot plain rice, this dish is simple but delicious. It was a life-saver during the years I struggled as a student overseas. Sorry about the plain-looking picture. Too hungry to wait.

The final dish I prepared was ayam goreng kunyit dengan kacang buncis. This choice was really based on what I could find in the fridge; two pieces of chicken fillet and some french beans. Quick, easy and tasty too.

Belimbing buluh

We have a medium-sized belimbing buluh tree (scientific name : averrhoa bilimbi) growing in the front yard of our house. The tree has been there all these years, presumably planted by the original owners.



At certain times of the year, the tree bears fruits that can be used in Malay cooking. This time round, the fruits seem to have sprouted in abundance... more than I can recall from previous times. Yesterday, I collected enough to fill a small basket and yet there are more than half the tree that was unplucked. A lot of the ripe fruits have already fallen to ground.

The green belimbing buluh fruits are too sour to be eaten directly but they make excellent additions to certain recipes such as any `masak lemak' type of dishes. While searching for the scientific name on the internet, I came across a simple recipe involving belimbing buluh and ikan bilis. I have not tried it yet but being the ikan bilis fan that I am, I'm sure it's going to taste delicious.

The recipe is reproduced below (credit to Nani Z @ resipi.mesra.net) :

Sambal Ikan Bilis Goreng Belimbing Buluh
Kiriman : Nani Z
Sumber : Resepi arwah moyang Limah turun temurun

Bahan-Bahan :
Segenggam Ikan bilis sederhana besar
5 ulas bawang merah
2 ulas bawang putih
7 biji cili padi (ikut suka)
Kicap secukupnya
2 sudu belimbing buluh (berwarna coklat / hitam)
Minyak masak untuk menumis
Garam secukup rasa

Cara :
Basuh ikan bilis dan toskan. Kemudian tumbuk sederhana lumat dan asingkan (Bahan A). Tumbuk cili padi, bawang merah, bawang putih dan belimbing buluh hingga lumat (Bahan B).

Panaskan minyak dan masukkan Bahan B serta goreng hingga kekuningan. Kemudian campurkan Bahan A, kicap serta garam. Goreng hingga garing. Angkat dan hidangkan.

Cadangan Hidangan :
Sambal ini dikenali juga sebagai sambal hitam (di tempat kami Kg Gua, Kuala Lipis). Ia boleh dimakan dengan nasi panas, roti canai dan lain-lain sebagai bahan pencecah.

Tambahan :
Buah belimbing buluh direbus dulu hingga hitam keperangan. Dikenali juga sebagai asam belimbing buluh.

Source : http://resepi.mesra.net/Detailed/5067.shtml

A grand old man

Earlier this month, I was conferred the title of `datuk'. Our niece, Melati Bt. Razak, safely delivered her second baby girl at the Kota Tinggi District Hospital. Melati and her husband, Hasnul Asyraf, now have two daughters.

Yesterday, my sister-in-law held a thanksgiving ceremony (kenduri doa selamat dan cukur jambul) at their home in Kota Tinggi. My new grand-niece has been named Nurul Aqilah.

16-day old Nurul Aqilah in the arms of her grand-uncle Oldstock

This latest addition to our extended family is actually our tenth grandnephew or grandniece. My wife and I have been called `Tok' for about 8 years now. So you guys need not feel uneasy to call me Oldstock, okay?

Wrestling with a problem

On my regular road trips from Kuala Lumpur back to Johor Bahru, I would normally stop for a break at the Pagoh Rest & Service Area of the North-South Expressway because this spot is located about halfway. Last Thursday night however, I deviated slightly from the usual when I stopped at the Air Keroh RSA instead. I decided to take an earlier break because I was already feeling hungry.

As I walked from my car to the food stalls, I noticed a group of a dozen or so men, lorry drivers from the look of it, intently watching the overhead television. I couldn't yet see what was on the screen but from the wide-eyed excited looks on their faces, I could easily guess the programme they were watching. It was wrestling.

I have never been a fan of wrestling, at least not the American WWF version anyway. I consider it more of an entertainment show rather than a sport. I do have a friend however, who is a die-hard fan. As I watched the wrestling on TV, I am reminded of this friend who was also a housemate during my early bachelor days.

It was sometime in 1985. I was still in my first year of holding a job after graduating. I was sharing a house with three other friends in the Larkin area of Johor Bahru. When I first moved into the house, there were hardly any furnishings or appliances. We had no television or refridgerator. There wasn't even a gas stove.

Life without a TV was dead boring. As soon as I received my salary the following month, I bought a small 16" television set. The evenings became a bit bearable then. The programmes we watched would be decided on consensus. When there was a tie, I would cast the deciding vote, since I was the owner of the TV set.

The housemate who was a wrestling fan is named Saini. The other two housemates and myself do not like to watch wrestling, hence Saini is always outnumbered. We had fun arguing with him that all the actions in the wrestling match are bluffs or play-acting. He would defend the game in all seriousness. It's real, he would say. Not acting.

Sometimes, on nights that wrestling is on, Saini would rush to finish eating dinner so that he could park himself in front of the TV early, hoping that he would have control of the channels. No such luck. Once the three of us have seated ourselves in front of the telly, the channel would change to our liking. Saini would end up disappointed and frustrated. Although not serious, having an unhappy friend in the house was becoming a problem.

One night, before we took control of the TV channel, Saini pleaded to us to let him watch the wrestling show. He said that his only request was to watch wrestling once a week. For the other nights of the week, he would gladly agree to watch whatever we decide to watch. Hearing him appeal so passionately, we decided to give in. And so from then on, one hour of Tuesday evenings would be reserved for a friend who wants to watch burly men grappling with themselves in a square ring. If that's what it takes to keep my friend happy for the rest of the week, then so be it.

I learned a valuable lesson from that episode. Sometimes, enforcing majority rule or exercising veto power is not necessarily a good decision to make. Making a small concession could sometimes yield long term gain.

Footnote : In this year's Oscars, Mickey Rourke is a Best Actor nominee for his role in The Wrestler.

The heart of the matter

The human heart is an amazing yet mysterious organ. It is about the size of a clenched fist and weighs less than half a kilogram. Yet it beats continuously without rest and can create enough pressure to squirt blood to a distance of up to 10 metres. In one year it beats about 35 million times. But what makes it start ticking at the embryonic stage is still a mystery.

On Sunday, the nation was informed of the news that the father of singer Siti Nurhaliza has passed away after undergoing heart surgery. Tarudin Ismail had collapsed at his home in Kuala Lipis and was brought to Ampang Puteri Specialist Hospital where bypass surgery was performed. My condolonces to Siti Nurhaliza and her family on this tragic loss.

I first caught hold of the news on TV that night. The images of Siti and her family at the hospital reminded me of another traumatic event I experienced at that very same hospital four years ago. It involved a very close friend who also suffered a heart attack.

When I was based in KL a few years ago, I was part of our company's Tender & Contracts Department. Our task was to prepare tender and bid proposals for various projects. It was quite a tough job and working late into the night was a norm. We were a small team, only three of us : myself and two colleagues named Hasnul and Shaifudin. Although the job was tedious, we enjoyed what we do because each of us specializes in a certain area and we complement each other very well. Hasnul is the longest serving employee, having been there when the boss first started the firm. His dedication to his work is second to none and that is why I enjoy working with him.

We often work late together, going home well after midnight. On days before tender submission, it is not unusual for us to spend the night at the office.

On one particular evening we were having our dinner at the mamak restaurant at the ground floor of our office. I told Hasnul that I was tired and would be going home a bit earlier than usual. Hasnul told me that he would be staying back for a while longer to work on a tender proposal for a land reclamation project. After dinner, we returned back to our office. I went to my room to tidy up my desk and before leaving, I popped over to Hasnul's room to say goodnight. He was already concentrating hard in front of his laptop and probably smoking his third or fourth cigarette since the dinner break. Hasnul is the heaviest smoker among all my friends. Two packs of Dunhill a day is standard. I asked him how much longer will he be. Another couple of hours, he said.

As I wished him goodnight, it was already past 10pm.

Although I was very tired, I didn't sleep very well that night. When I woke up at daybreak, there was already a message on my mobile. It was from another colleague named Wan Lutfi. The message was brief but serious : Hasnul di ICU Ampang Puteri. Heart attack.

I quickly got dressed and sped off to Ampang Puteri. I reached the hospital in 15 minutes to find Lutfi standing just outside the hospital compound, enjoying a morning puff. He told me that Hasnul called him at home at around 2.30 am, complaining of chest pains. Lutfi, who stays at Gombak, rushed to the office at Setiawangsa and found our friend still conscious. He drove Hasnul to Ampang Puteri's emergency ward at breakneck speed.

After being briefed with a few more details I requested Lutfi to go home, shower up and then arrange to bring Hasnul's family to the hospital. Hasnul was already in intensive care and unconscious. I proceeded to the hospital's admissions office to take care of the administrative details. Around 11 am, I managed to speak to Dr. Ahmad, the consultant cardiologist. He told me that Hasnul's heart had stopped just as Lutfi managed to bring him into the emergency ward. They had to use the defibrillator to zap his heart a few times and get it pumping again. If Lutfi had been a few minutes late, my goodnight wish to Hasnul the previous night would have been the last words I spoke to him.

Dr. Ahmad informed me that he has put Hasnul on medication and hope that my friend's condition would stabilize before advising on the next step. I then returned to our office to update management on the situation and planned to come back later in the evening. At around 5pm, I received news that Hasnul's condition had taken a turn for the worse and the doctor advised for bypass surgery.

I rushed back to Ampang Puteri just in time to see my friend being wheeled into the operation theatre. Hasnul's wife, although visibly sad, kept her emotions in check but her children can be seen sobbing quitely. There was nothing much I could do except to console them of their anxiety.

The operation was carried out to bypass four blocked coronary arteries. The replacement blood vessels were taken from the patient's lower leg.

The next day, I visited my friend again but he was still under heavy sedation. It was only on the following day that he has recovered sufficiently for me to sit at his bedside. The sight of all those tubes and wires attached to him was a bit depressing. He was conscious of me sitting by his bed and made the effort to say a few words. I told him to take it easy and not to speak if it was causing him pain. I then relayed back to him the story that he had joked with me a few weeks earlier.

Actually, I had been a bit unwell myself a few weeks before. I was absent from the office for a number of days and only left a message with my secretary that I was resting at home. I did not return any phone calls or messages and this gave the impression that my illness was quite serious. I was away for an unusually long time, causing some colleagues to speculate that I was hospitalised. When I finally turned back up for work, my friends were relieved to see me. At that point, Hasnul mentioned that he had wanted to visit me but didn't know which hospital I was in. He was afraid that he might be too late and joked that the visit he would be making was to my house to recite the Surah Yassin (verses from the Holy Quran), meaning at my funeral. We all had a good laugh at that time, not knowing that the remark made in jest can turn out to be dead serious.

As I related the event back to Hasnul, I couldn't hold back my tears. I held his left hand firmly with both of mine as I cried. If Hasnul had collapsed all alone that night at the office or if he had failed to make that phone call to Lutfi or if Lutfi had delayed in rushing him to the hospital, then my friend would have been gone forever. And it would have been me who would be at his house to recite the Surah Yassin.