Cooking is about passion, so it may look slightly temperamental in a way that it’s too assertive to the naked eye.
– Gordon Ramsay, British chef, restaurateur, writer and television personality
My niece, Ah Hong is learning to cook through WhatsApp. She is taking lessons from me even though she lives with her mother.
I am no master chef. I just cook ordinary meals for my family.
Ah Hong, who is now 24, has lived with me, my mother and some cousins since she was four months old. Over the years, she has got used to the food that I cook.
Just the other day, Ah Hong sent me an unexpected message through WhatsApp.
“Auntie, what do we need to steam fish. And how?”
“Garlic, ginger, shallots and chilli. Slice them all,” I replied.
“Ok, ok.,” she replied.
Then I added, “Soya bean sauce, aji no moto (a type of seasoning), sugar and a bit of water. Mix together in a glass. Add vinegar if you have some.”
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“Never mind then. Clean the fish. After that, dry it and put some sliced ginger in it. Place it in a steaming plate. Arrange the garlic, chillies, etc, on the fish. Pour the soya sauce mixture on it. Then steam.”
At this point, Ah Hong replied,” I think mummy got.”
“Got what?”
“White wine.”
“Lovely. Can add a bit to the fish before you steam it. Can also add a bit of asam jawa (tamarind),” I told her.
“Okay, auntie, thank you so much,” she replied.
I did not know Ah Hong was preparing to cook supper the next day. The conversation on the WhatsApp about steaming the fish continued the next day at around 10.30pm. During the movement control order (MCO) recently, my niece and her parents, who lived in Johor, had supper instead of dinner
“The soy sauce. How much do I need?” Ah Hong asked me before showing me a picture of a big fish she bought.
Her next question was, “Garlic. How much and how to arrange?
“Two to three tablespoons,” I replied. Then she sent me picture of two tiny garlic bulbs.
“Ok,” I replied.
“And shallots?” she asked.
“Two small shallots. Cut into small pieces,” I told her.
“How much wine and sugar?” she asked.
“Two tablespoon wine, one tablespoon sugar,” I told her.
Then she sent me a picture of something I could not see.
“What’s that?” I asked her.
“Kiamchai (salted vegetables). I bought and soaked them in water.”
“Too much,” I told her.
Then at last, “Steam for how long, auntie?”
“Twenty minutes…Should be cooked after that,” I replied.
I was surprised by Ah Hong’s next question, “Auntie. Do I need to add water to the fish? After the fish is cooked, do I need to add anything?”
“Make enough of the soya sauce, water, wine and sugar mixture. So, you can eat the sauce later on,” I said.
When I asked her whether she was going to use a wok to steam the fish, Ah Hong said, “No. We will think of a way.”
That was when I learnt her mother, my younger sister, was with her in the kitchen.
“I am surprised your mother does not know how to cook steamed fish,” I told Ah Hong.
“She knows but I don’t like the way she steams fish,” said the ever-frank girl.
“Sometimes she has a weird way of cooking vegetables. Likes to add weird things,” she added.
“Hahaha! I think you have been eating our food in Kuching for over 20 years and got used to it,” I told her.
“Ya,” she replied.
Ah Hong’s next question was, “How about manichai (Sauropus androgynus — a leaf vegetable)?”
“Fry shallots and garlic, then add manichai and egg,” I replied.
“For how long? That day I overcooked it until it became crispy. Hahaha! Like keropok.”
I was shocked to hear that.
“Break the egg and whisk it lightly in a bowl first. Then pour over the manichai. Use a lot more oil,” I instructed her.
“Ok,” she replied.
When Ah Hong sent me pictures of the dishes she cooked later, they looked good.
A few days later, I received a message from her mother.
“Two days ago, Ah Hong cooked steamed fish. Very good,” she said.
I gave myself a pat on the back. I have done well in teaching my niece how to cook via WhatsApp.
Ah Hong is a late learner when it comes to cooking. But it is good to start late than never.
