I watch Marge prepare tinned rice cereal, pre-mixed with milk for little Eva. “I’ve tried it myself,” she says, “it’s not bad. Would you like a taste?” I want to say aloud: No? That’s not real food. But instead flash a polite smile.
Chinese mothers start to prepare rice gruel for their babies when they wean off milk at about 9 months. In the 50s, the rice grains are first wash, dried taken to Indian spice millers to grind into powder. The rice gruel is cooked with water slowly over a charcoal stove in an enamel sauce pan, stirring constantly. A few grains of salt are added for taste. Sometimes a little Bovril is added. As the child grows, the moms would add cubed potatoes and carrots to the rice gruel for colour and variety.
Back then, it is not uncommon to see a grandmother feeding a row of little toddlers sitting quietly on small bamboo stools. She would nurse a big bowl of porridge on the palm of one hand and wield a spoon with the other. A viper cane would be placed on the ground next to her feet. The porridge is often made with minced pork or plain porridge sprinkled with deboned fried fish. The grandmother would blow to cool the porridge then place the spoon in her mouth to suck it to test the temperature before feed the little ones. In those days, a lot of folks were not very hygienic and it was something acceptable. No one frowns.
Porridge or congee is soul food. Deliciously heart-warming and filling. It adds warmth to the body and joy to weary spirit. It is one of those things that I hanker for when my throat is scratchy, or when I feel a hacking cough coming. Everyone needs a little pampering when they are sick. They need something that would stick to the bones and sit warm in stomachs.
When I need something light and refreshing for lunch after several evenings of feasting, I would look for a good Teochew porridge. This is plain watery porridge. Some would even call it water-logged, with each grain of rice just popped into little flowers. Eaten with a must-have accompaniments of braised peanuts, fried salted fish, boiled salted duck’s eggs, “chai por” (dried sweet radish) omelettes, nam yue (fermented bean curd), canned preserved mustard leaves and "kerabu hare bee".
“Kerabu Hare Bee” (dried shrimp salad) is thinly sliced raw shallots, bird’s eye chilli, minced and whole taucheo (yellow bean paste), chopped garlic, lightly pounded “hare bee” mixed with calamansi juice and sugar. Appetisingly hot, sour, sweet and salty, the perfect accompaniment to several bowls of piping hot porridge. We slurp the porridge slowly picking at the myriad of accompaniment with our chopsticks.
If you’ve ever been poor growing up, you would have tasted “huan choo muay” (sweet potato porridge) eaten with dishes. The thin porridge is cooked with small bite size chunks of sweet potatoes that make its pretty with orange lumps. Sweet potato cooked this way is also cooling for the body.
In the old days, poor labourers would save and reduce rice consumption by eating a stew like “kiam muay” (savoury porridge). There are several versions, some has the addition of “toh tau, hare bee and jio hoo” (peanut, dried shrimp and cuttle fish), “lek tau” (green beans), “kwa chai, hare bee and sam chan” (mustard green, dried shrimp and pork belly). Meat being expensive, the pork belly are normally thin strips for flavour on good days.
Robust Cantonese style “Chee Cheong Chook” makes a hearty meal. It is extra smooth with its condiment of boiled pig’s large intestine, deep fried small intestine, cubed pig blood, boiled pig tongue, heart and “char sio” (barbeque honey roast pork). This is not for the faint hearted as some stalls would actually drape the coils of cooked intestine over a metal pole at the front of the stall, sort of like a gory advertisement!
I remember having congee with “sio bak” (crunchy skin roasted pork) and roasted goose in Hong Kong. These are excellent versions taken on a cold windy December morning.
Homemade versions include duck neck porridge with peanuts, which is a cheap and flavourful winner. Sometimes roasted duck bones, head, wings and web feet are added. These left over parts can be bought from the Duck Rice stall for a few dollars a bag.
Congee with whole chicken wings and scallops is full of chicken taste. This is a lovely version which I’ve tried at a Cantonese home. A simple delightful meal where the grandmother serves this huge pot of congee made with addition of glutinous rice at the dining table and everyone digs in for their favourite ingredients, standing up to scoop and ladle boisterously. Saying loudly to a parent, child, cousin or guest, “Ah, take this, it’s your chicken wing,” and plop it into a lifted bowl. The passing of pepper shaker, shaking of fragrant sesame oil droplets, fighting over the last of the “Youtiao “or “you char kwai”, Chinese cruller. Communal eating like this is so homey and bonding.
When I worked away from home, we would frequent the Dai Pie Dong stalls for porridge in the evenings. The cook reheats the porridge in a copper pot, over a hissing gas stove and cooks it with wide choice ingredients. The temperature is super-hot. Placing an order involves raising one’s voice over the hiss of the stove and braving a hot blast of air. Fresh slices of oily fish belly or fish slices. Sliced pork or beef. Pork balls or beef ball. Pig giblets or “tim kai” (water chicken which is actually frog) are on the menu.
Some restaurants have crab porridge with is slightly yellow and green in colour with the roe of fat crabs. Amazingly delicious but expensive. There are of course the prime porridge with choice seafood and huge prawns which taste of the sea and “cheng tnee” (clear sweetness).
All this brings me back to the first time I ever cooked congee. It was during domestic science class back in my convent school days. I have not encountered this on any menu since. We cooked mutton congee with lamb bones, and meat, when it was almost ready to serve, we add in thinly sliced spinach and stir in a raw egg yolk. The congee was golden with slivers of bright green spinach and bits of lamb. It was surprisingly good, hearty and heaty. Our DS mistress said it was very nutritious for growing girls and would put hair on our chest!
Lovely Teochew porridge with duck gravy and cilantro, Sg. Bakap.
Photo by Doris Lim
Back then, it is not uncommon to see a grandmother feeding a row of little toddlers sitting quietly on small bamboo stools. She would nurse a big bowl of porridge on the palm of one hand and wield a spoon with the other. A viper cane would be placed on the ground next to her feet. The porridge is often made with minced pork or plain porridge sprinkled with deboned fried fish. The grandmother would blow to cool the porridge then place the spoon in her mouth to suck it to test the temperature before feed the little ones. In those days, a lot of folks were not very hygienic and it was something acceptable. No one frowns.
Porridge or congee is soul food. Deliciously heart-warming and filling. It adds warmth to the body and joy to weary spirit. It is one of those things that I hanker for when my throat is scratchy, or when I feel a hacking cough coming. Everyone needs a little pampering when they are sick. They need something that would stick to the bones and sit warm in stomachs.
Simple lunch of plain congee with Chinese crullers and soya milk.
Photo by Doris Lim
Photo by Doris Lim
When I need something light and refreshing for lunch after several evenings of feasting, I would look for a good Teochew porridge. This is plain watery porridge. Some would even call it water-logged, with each grain of rice just popped into little flowers. Eaten with a must-have accompaniments of braised peanuts, fried salted fish, boiled salted duck’s eggs, “chai por” (dried sweet radish) omelettes, nam yue (fermented bean curd), canned preserved mustard leaves and "kerabu hare bee".
“Kerabu Hare Bee” (dried shrimp salad) is thinly sliced raw shallots, bird’s eye chilli, minced and whole taucheo (yellow bean paste), chopped garlic, lightly pounded “hare bee” mixed with calamansi juice and sugar. Appetisingly hot, sour, sweet and salty, the perfect accompaniment to several bowls of piping hot porridge. We slurp the porridge slowly picking at the myriad of accompaniment with our chopsticks.
If you’ve ever been poor growing up, you would have tasted “huan choo muay” (sweet potato porridge) eaten with dishes. The thin porridge is cooked with small bite size chunks of sweet potatoes that make its pretty with orange lumps. Sweet potato cooked this way is also cooling for the body.
In the old days, poor labourers would save and reduce rice consumption by eating a stew like “kiam muay” (savoury porridge). There are several versions, some has the addition of “toh tau, hare bee and jio hoo” (peanut, dried shrimp and cuttle fish), “lek tau” (green beans), “kwa chai, hare bee and sam chan” (mustard green, dried shrimp and pork belly). Meat being expensive, the pork belly are normally thin strips for flavour on good days.
"Chee Cheong Chook" Photo by Doris Lim
Robust Cantonese style “Chee Cheong Chook” makes a hearty meal. It is extra smooth with its condiment of boiled pig’s large intestine, deep fried small intestine, cubed pig blood, boiled pig tongue, heart and “char sio” (barbeque honey roast pork). This is not for the faint hearted as some stalls would actually drape the coils of cooked intestine over a metal pole at the front of the stall, sort of like a gory advertisement!
Pei Tan Sau Yoke Chuk (Pork and Century Egg Congee)
Photo by Doris Lim
The Dim Sum style porridge is called congee. Congee should never taste like glue, but rather it is viscous and velvety smooth from long hours of slow boiling, stirring and “fire watching”. At Dim Sum houses the standard is minced salted ducks eggs and pei tan (century egg) with shredded steamed chicken. This is sprinkled with julienne young ginger, spring onions, a dash or two of fragrant sesame oil and white pepper.
I remember having congee with “sio bak” (crunchy skin roasted pork) and roasted goose in Hong Kong. These are excellent versions taken on a cold windy December morning.
Homemade versions include duck neck porridge with peanuts, which is a cheap and flavourful winner. Sometimes roasted duck bones, head, wings and web feet are added. These left over parts can be bought from the Duck Rice stall for a few dollars a bag.
Congee with whole chicken wings and scallops is full of chicken taste. This is a lovely version which I’ve tried at a Cantonese home. A simple delightful meal where the grandmother serves this huge pot of congee made with addition of glutinous rice at the dining table and everyone digs in for their favourite ingredients, standing up to scoop and ladle boisterously. Saying loudly to a parent, child, cousin or guest, “Ah, take this, it’s your chicken wing,” and plop it into a lifted bowl. The passing of pepper shaker, shaking of fragrant sesame oil droplets, fighting over the last of the “Youtiao “or “you char kwai”, Chinese cruller. Communal eating like this is so homey and bonding.
Yee Sang Kai Chook (Fish Slice and Chicken Porridge)
Photo by Doris Lim
When I worked away from home, we would frequent the Dai Pie Dong stalls for porridge in the evenings. The cook reheats the porridge in a copper pot, over a hissing gas stove and cooks it with wide choice ingredients. The temperature is super-hot. Placing an order involves raising one’s voice over the hiss of the stove and braving a hot blast of air. Fresh slices of oily fish belly or fish slices. Sliced pork or beef. Pork balls or beef ball. Pig giblets or “tim kai” (water chicken which is actually frog) are on the menu.
Teochew water porridge with meat and roe crabs.
Photo by Doris Lim
Photo by Doris Lim
Some restaurants have crab porridge with is slightly yellow and green in colour with the roe of fat crabs. Amazingly delicious but expensive. There are of course the prime porridge with choice seafood and huge prawns which taste of the sea and “cheng tnee” (clear sweetness).
All this brings me back to the first time I ever cooked congee. It was during domestic science class back in my convent school days. I have not encountered this on any menu since. We cooked mutton congee with lamb bones, and meat, when it was almost ready to serve, we add in thinly sliced spinach and stir in a raw egg yolk. The congee was golden with slivers of bright green spinach and bits of lamb. It was surprisingly good, hearty and heaty. Our DS mistress said it was very nutritious for growing girls and would put hair on our chest!
Doris Lim is a popular freelance writer who blogs as Little Fish on travel and food stories here. Be sure to check out her other inspiring
stories and follow her Instagram @SmartDoryID & Facebook to check out more places to eat
delicious street foods or dine in the best restaurants!
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