My Fuschia Dunlop moment.

image from http://weheartit.com/entry/8596545

I read Fuschia Dunlop's food memoir, Shark's Fin and Sichuan Pepper, over a year ago, and I was really impressed by her account of an Englishwoman living, eating and cooking in China. Quite a few of her chapters had me going "wow" and until today, I still find myself quoting her insights on the Chinese and their seemingly impassive approach to animal cruelty.

A couple of days ago, I found myself standing in the kitchen of a Chinese restaurant, one where the kitchen chatter is laced with foreign accents and rows of ducks (some roasted, some uncooked) were hung, by their necks, in obscure corners. While the chefs and cooks stomped around purposefully in their slip-proof safety shoes, I skidded in in my silk dress and strappy heels (fresh out of a wine lunch, you see), praying with every step that I wouldn't slip and bring a vat of hot oil crashing down on me while trying my damnest to look like I fit in there.

Fat hope. I stuck out like a sore thumb and I was promptly shot some very inquiring looks. I was as comfortable as a zebra in a lion's den, but a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do, in this case clarify the steps in a failing recipe. So I shuffled and plastered my body to the table's edge each time someone came through with a a pot of dangerous-looking liquid (happens every 30 seconds), all the while scribbling furiously as my hands struggled to keep up the chef's seasoned moves. Just then, a chapter Fuschia Dunlop wrote about being the only foreigner in a Chengdu culinary school popped into my head and my little head voice said: "This is probably how Fuschia felt!"

That particular chapter didn't blow me away, but my bizarre mind had apparently decided it was gonna be useful some day. It was, for that  literary recall inexplicably made me feel tons better. And for the record, I didn't fall. On the contrary, I walked out with my head held high and a bag of freshly baked buns swinging in my hands. It was so surreal, but I would do it all over it again. In a different outfit though.

Making kueh kueh.

I met a friend for coffee yesterday afternoon. Or more accurately, we actualised our virtual friendship over coffee. I can't remember the circumstance under which E and I got to know each other (it could be because we share the same birthday) and I don't remember much about what we've spoken about over the past 3 years except our common date of birth (hah!), his decision to become an instructor in Outward Bound School, and the training schedule he designed for me when I decided to take part in the 2008 Great Eastern 10K run.

So, after dallying about for yonks, we finally met. Now, I don't usually meet virtual friends because some friendships are really better kept online (didn't your mom lecture you about the dangers?), and I imagine it's gotta be awful to be stuck sipping tea with someone you expected to get along with like a house of fire only to realise you've both become socially inept in the real world. No issues with E (thank goodness!) and apart from regaling me with tales of poisonous jellyfishes, he related his experience making kueh keria (Malay sweet potato doughnuts, or in his words - 'Best Thing Ever') in a mess tin. That's when I decided he's gonna make a pretty good real world friend.

I haven't heard about kueh keria until yesterday, and my near futile online snooping later that night ended with me reading an article my colleague found, which listed the kueh as one of the Singaporean foods that are becoming extinct. Oh boy. Thankfully, my search also turned up a recipe for the kueh by Sydney blogger, Almost Bourdain. Short of rocking down to Kampong Glam and blindly trying my luck at random kueh kueh stalls, I decided to make my own. It took all of 30 mins, tops, two-thirds of which I spent reading my copy of delicious. while waiting for the sweet potatoes to soften in my steamer.

When that was done I mashed the sweet potatoes up.

Added enough plain flour and tapioca starch to make a soft dough.

Rolled the dough into bite-size balls and slid them into a wok of shimmering oil.
It took all of 20 seconds to brown.

Drained them on kitchen towels while I made a mess of the sugar glaze.

I quickly gave up and dusted them in icing sugar instead.

My new friend's right. These are possibly one of the best things ever. And so easy to make, too!

Here's the recipe by Almost Bourdain, with a few tweaks by moi.

Kueh keria (Malay sweet potato doughnuts)
Makes 12 bite-size balls/doughnuts/whatever shapes you fancy, really

175g orange sweet potatoes
15g plain flour
15g tapioca starch
sunflower oil (or any neutral-tasting oil), for deep-frying
icing sugar, to dust

1. Skin and cube the sweet potatoes. This shortens the cooking time - perfect if you're impatient like me. Steam for 15-20 mins until very tender. Mash thoroughly with a potato masher or a fork.
2. Tip both flours into the sweet potatoes, which should have cooled off slightly with all the mashing, and mix with your hands to form a soft dough. You can wait another 5 mins if you reckon the potatoes are too hot, but that's just prissy, really!
3. Place enough oil (a depth of about 2cm is good) in a small wok and heat over a medium flame. While waiting for the oil to shimmer, divide and roll the dough into 12 balls. Flatten each ball slightly and push your thumb through the middle to make doughnuts. (You can skip this step if you're too greedy to wait - they're delish regardless). Slide the doughnuts into the hot oil, count to 8, then turn them over with a slotted spoon. They should have gone really golden by now. Count to 5 again and check - if they're evenly browned, they're done. Haul them up to drain on kitchen towels. Do this in batches if you have to.
4. Sprinkle over generously with icing sugar and eat up while they're hot.