Broken rice crispy crust and chicken cutlets

[ezcol_1fifth]-[/ezcol_1fifth] [ezcol_3fifth] "  A crust that is both crispy and airy, with a exceptionally craggy surface that foretells that a multi-textural experience awaits.  " Amongst fried foods enthusiasts, the quest to find the perfect breading, never ends.  Often times either thin but un-impactful, or substantial but too heavy, the delicate balance in a perfect breading, or shall we say "crust", is elusive and ever-changing. But today, I feel as if I had come to a near conclusion that seems to suggest that the search is over.  A breading that leads to a crust that is both crispy and airy, but more importantly, stays crispy and airy, where its exceptionally craggy surface foretells that a multi-textural experience awaits.  Large and small puffy crunches that are light, spontaneous, and almost lacelike. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, the broken rice crispy crust. Yes, rice crispy, the juvenile cereal, the cereal that nobody actually eats on its own, the cereal that only finds life's meanings in a tightly compressed square jammed with marshmallow and butter, the cereal that, even then, is promptly rejected by the first sign of puberty and any desire to get laid in the years that follow.  Yes, that rice crispy.  That rice

Singapore hawker marathon: Hokkien prawn mee (prawn bisque stir-fried noodle)

[ezcol_1fifth]  [/ezcol_1fifth] [ezcol_3fifth] IT IS "UGLICIOUS" WHAT:  This will be the last span in Singapore hawker marathon.  Another aesthetically underachieving, possibly unappetizing-looking dish called Hokkien prawn mee (basically noodles stir-fried with prawn bisque) that became one of the few Michelin-blessed hawker dishes in Singapore. WHY:  At first glance, let's be honest, it looks like shit.  Clearly, this is a dish that gives little to zero fuck about what anybody thinks about it.  But how on earth does a spatter of yellow and unenthusiastic gloop land effortlessly on the Michelin Guide, kind of made me curious.  And if you also care to find out, you'd be blown away just as well by the powerful and intent talent and flavors that traffic underneath all that unbothered facade.  As the highest compliment for both ends of the comparison, it's the Ed Sheeran of noodles. HOW:  Forget about making it pretty.  It's not about being pretty.  It shouldn't be pretty.  What this dish should be about, at all cost, is the nuclear fusion between two of the most powerful elements in gastronomy:  lard, and prawn fats.  Every bite of this lightly saucy strands of noodles is a perfectly engineered explosion of porkyness from rendered lard with crispy cracklings,

ONE-POT SICHUAN SAUSAGE (OR ANY SAUSAGE) RICE W HERBS SALAD

[ezcol_1third] THE ABUNDANT FAT AND JUICES FROM THE SAUSAGE WILL DESCEND GODLY AND SEEP DOWN THROUGH THE RICE BELOW, FLAVORING AND AIDING THE FORMATION OF THE HEAVENLY BOTTOM CRUST [/ezcol_1third] [ezcol_1third] If you follow my Instagram, then you'd know that I'm head-deep in rushing towards the finishing line on my cookbook.  Yeah, I'm writing one, and this is probably the first time that I'm mentioning it on the blog, all very anti-dramatic and all.  But I promise to talk more about it when the time comes. For now, let me quickly leave you with a recipe, well more like a technique almost, that I think everyone who struggles with weeknight meals (or writing a book no less) should have in their repertoire.  Inspired by claypot rice, here's how to turn any type of fresh sausages and a few cups of rice into a one-pot, steaming, savory, fluffy and crispy wonder.  If you have a few minutes to spare, you can prepare this sichuan-inspired sausage thoroughly studded with fatty guanciale bits (Italian cured pork jowl), burning with toasted chili flakes and tingling wtih sichuan pepercorns.  Or, you can use any other types of your favorite, fresh sausages like sweet Italian, spicy Italian, or fresh Mexican

Roast pork butt sandwich

[ezcol_2third][/ezcol_2third] [ezcol_1third_end] A couple weeks ago, I wondered my way into a small break from cooking.  For no particular reason than because, over one morning coffee, I felt it was called for.  People talk about the ferocity of love and passion a lot, in all forms and sizes that drives humanity for what it's worth, rising in salute for its consuming, inconvenient, majestic torment and glory.  But what fuels it, what fuels love and passion, is often less marketable. At certain points, what fuels passion is simply absence.   THE AU JUS

PORK CHOP W/ TUNA-SANDO SAUCE

  MAKE THIS RECIPE RESPONSIBLY, OR NOT AT ALL [ezcol_1third] I haven't eaten tuna for almost 10 years.  Except one time in Hawaii when/where it was responsible.  Unless you've been living under a rock, or conveniently turning a blind eye, you should know exactly what I'm talking about. It is estimated that by 2050, a large number of species of wild fish, tuna especially, will be gone.  That statement was made more than a decade ago.  It still stands.  Are we better than locusts?  The question is, are we worse? So why am I, a hypocrite on all accounts, posting a recipe that involves tuna?  Because I see it now no longer as a question.  But instead, an opportunity. I first came across the inspiration of a "tuna-sando sauce" from an espisode of Mind of A Chef on Gabrielle Hamilton, where she made the Italian dish maiale tonnato, thinly sliced pork served with a mayonnaise-based sauce flavored with canned tuna.  I was instantly intrigued.  It was one of those instances where, without actually tasting something, I felt certain about its sublimity, the velvety texture of a sauce that is the sum of all that is awesome about a tuna sandwich but minus the bread and the gritty mouth-feel,

THE PLAIN GENIUS OF MENCHI KATSU SANDO

IT HITS JUST THE RIGHT SPOT, ONE OF THE FEW LEFT IN OUR HYPER-STIMULATED MINDS THESE DAYS, WHERE IT STILL ACCEPTS OR EVEN CRAVES PURITY [ezcol_1half] As we know that there are plenty for the taking, but this is perhaps - as far as I know and hopefully true - Jason's most obsessed of all perverse Japanese creations, the menchi katsu. Menchi, meaning "minced", and katsu, is anything "breaded and fried". It exists in many different forms and spirits, each and one of them equally bizarre to the conventional wisdoms of the west, but one in particular, the menchi katsu sando / fried ground pork patty sandwich, will send many scratching their heads inside a Japanese convenience store.  That is because its pure genius can only be realized upon one fateful encounter - one that reflects truly on its seemly simple but in fact, delicate preparations, and the childish yet complex satisfaction it plays on your tastebuds - which, unfortunately, can be a rare occurrence outside of Japan.  Actually, outside of Japan, this idea sounds more desperate than anything else.  Why do we want to fry a disk of ground pork - by the way, an almost comically massive disk of ground pork - then leave it with nothing else, and I

FRANCE PART I, and Lyonnaise sausage w/ warm beans and sage butter

[ezcol_1half] All the best things in life are clichés. Paris, is a cliché. I've fought consciously throughout my adult life not to fall for it, or at the very least, say it out loud, fearing I'll sound like a girl wanting to model or a guy in a sports car. It oozes unoriginality. But in the end, excuse mine if you will, as we sat predictably at an open cafe at 6:30 am, watching this city in beige and pastel grey slowly waking up in a wash of golden summer lights, acutely aware of its both corny and extraordinary allure. Paris, I succumbed, is Paris for a reason. But I knew that four years ago, when I visited Paris for the time time. This time, I wanted more. And I didn't mean a private jet from somewhere like jettly.com to take me there (although a girl can dream, right?!). I wanted more not from Paris, but from the country that it has instilled great bewilderment for inside my mind. If that was Paris, then what is France? An embarrassingly stupid question no doubt, for a pre-middle age woman to ask but frankly, I'm too old to pretend that

THE JADED DOOR-NAIL MEAT PIES RUBBED W/ SCALLION BUTTER

[ezcol_1half] DOESN'T IT HELP YOUR CONFIDENCE IN MAKING THESE IN YOUR OWN KITCHEN, KNOWING THAT THEY AREN'T IMMORTALS, THAT THEY TOO BLEED JUICE, JUST LIKE THE REST OF US. [/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end] To most people who aren't born or raised in China or any of its politically disputed subparts, the idea of cooking Chinese cuisine, I guess, can feel intimidating.  For one, it sounds big.  And it is big.  It is big in a sense that it's actually less confusing to approach it not as a generalized whole, but as a ccoalition of many different regional representatives.  The food cultures in the north, really is a world away from the south, and from the east coast-lines to the west high mountains, vice versa.  And to make matters more complicated than say, how it is in America, in the best as well as the worst sense, the gaps between regional cultures aren't yet as erased by modernization and technologies as we speak.  So if you think you're scared about making southern dim-sum simply because you aren't Chinese, know that there's someone else born and raised in northern China, who feels just the same.  But I'm not saying this to scare you.  I'm saying this to let you know that, yes, while there is real deep

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