Thai Glass Noodles with Jumbo Prawns

Life in Tier 4 and my mother has a PHD in Netflix whilst I have memorised the entire score to Ludwig Goransson’s ‘Mandalorian’ by heart. Are we evolving or devolving? Don’t ask me. No idea and don’t care. 

There are far more pressing questions, like why is my white mullet wig still in transit from Hong Kong despite ordering it over two months ago? Why do I still shop online knowing full well I am over the limit? Will I ever leave my house wearing the Oxford White Kimono purchased from Tokyo at 2am after watching ‘Mulan’ and crying for an hour? And where is my Japanese portable gas ring? And 3 canisters of butane? And why did I buy them when I don’t like camping, have a perfectly functioning gas hob and no one to invite over? 

This is what happens in isolation, when you combine a repressed imagination with no social life, alcohol and a Disney+ trial. Last week, doused in Disaronno, I nearly purchased a $350 replica baby Yoda, reasoning that it was a steal when the original sold for $5 million. 

Teetering on the edge of a new year, better news came today: Oxford-AstraZeneca has been approved for use, the UK has 100m doses and our fishmonger has a tank of live Scottish lobster of which we have two. Tomorrow night we will be staying at home and making Goong Ob Woonsen, subbing lobster for jumbo prawns which have not been available panBrexmas*. If our incompetent government doesn’t fuck things up, 2021 might improve. Until then, count on idiots to flout rules despite the new kid in town: VUI-202012/01. And I don’t mean baby Musk-Grimes. People need to stop non-essential shopping FFS. What has any of this to do with glass noodles? Absolutely everything. Lobster is essential because when Big Ben chimes, this shit year will be over. 

*If lobster-subbing, don’t boil the lobster: put it in your freezer with plenty of room and, after half an hour, dispatch it humanely – definitely something you want to goog if it’s your first time, but in short, find the cross-shaped joint in the carapace and approximately halfway along an imaginary line drawn between the centre of the cross and the eyes, drive the blade of a sharp broad knife down to meet your chopping board. Once you have done this, which effectively severs the brain stem, you can split the lobster down the middle, top to bottom. Parts will continue to twitch as you carry out this process, but these movements are to do with the nervous system and not indications of life. Any mortician will tell you the same impulses present in the recently dead.

Now you can chop the lobster, shell-on, into chunks. Also chop the claws to save anyone having to fiddle with a cracker at the table . I use a stone mallet to help the blade achieve a clean quick cut through the shell and I also save the head in the freezer for future broths (I never throw much away when it comes to prawns and lobster – it all gets saved for stock). Then follow the recipe as you would do with the jumbo prawn. Just try not to overcook the lobster, because when the shell turns bright red and the meat’s no longer translucent, job’s done. And if you can’t get Chinese celery, then the feathery tops of any celery will do.

Serves 2

Ingredients (for sauce):

  • 1 inch ginger, peeled and sliced
  • half bulb of garlic
  • 2 tsp. ground white pepper
  • 4 tbsp. soy sauce
  • 4 tbsp. oyster sauce
  • 1 tbsp. dark soy sauce
  • 2 tsp. palm sugar
  • 1 tbsp. sesame oil

and:

  • 150g dry glass noodles
  • 6 jumbo prawn, heads & shell on, or 2 small lobsters, approx. 700g each
  • 1 tbsp. rapeseed oil
  • 1 inch ginger, peeled and thinly slices into matchsticks
  • 200g shiitake mushrooms, sliced
  • 2 Chinese celery stalks, heads chopped into 1 inch lengths
  • 1 cup water

Instructions:

  • Soak the glass noodles in room temperature water for 10 minutes: this varies depending on the brand of glass noodles you get, so I would start with tap water and top up with boiling water from the kettle, checking till the glass noodles give
  • Cut off any prawn antennae and use a knife, serrated best, to cut a shallow trench along the back of the prawn and devein
  • To make the sauce, grind the ginger and garlic into a paste
  • Add to this the rest of the sauce ingredients and stir until the sugar is dissolved: I use a jar to combine them all and give them a good shake
  • Drain the softened noodles, cut across the bundle to make them more manageable later
  • Place the noodles and shiitake into a large bowl. Pour the sauce over, toss, and leave to sit
  • Add the rapeseed oil and ginger to a heavy-bottomed pot and heat over medium heat. Once the oil is sizzling, add the noodles and then place the prawn on top
  • Now add the cup of water, cover and cook for about 5 minutes on a medium heat
  • Open the lid and give the noodles and prawn enough of a stir to make sure sauce is thoroughly distributed
  • Continue to cook until the noodles and prawns are hot and there is not much liquid left
  • At this point you can add the Chinese celery, give it all another toss and serve

Chicken Ramen Konnyaku

Ramen literally means ‘Chinese style-noodles’ so forgive me for bastardising yet another dish. If ramen calls to mind hand-thrown floury threads bound with egg, that’s not happening here. This won’t be ramen as you know it, but what it also won’t be is a meal that makes you bloat because I use seaweed konnyaku.

I came upon konnyaku noodles whilst having a poke about the chill section of a local Asian supermarket during lockdown2. I was bored, the shop was fairly empty so I browsed. The noodles come in watery pouches and two colours, either green or brown; both looked similar to shirataki and checking out the contents, turns out this is because konnyaku is also from the yam/toro family. 

A quick goog and the few reviews I found describe it as ‘spinach’ flavoured, but it’s not: seaweed powder gives it colour but not much else: konnyaku has almost zero calories, contains no sugar, no fat, no gluten, no grain and no protein. So why eat it? my mind screamed before rationalising that if Buddhists are right and we are nothing more than the sum of what we put into our bodies, perhaps partaking of it will give way to lighter thoughts? Nah, I countered, heading to the till; not in this economy, nor the political shit-fest that is 2020, whirligiging its way along with covid into the new year.

For this recipe I used the brown konnyaku, just because as someone who eats with their eyes, I think it compliments the glazed chicken and brown beech mushrooms better. I also prefer dashi miso for this because its savoury saltiness works well with the rest. One website touts konnyaku noodle as ‘one of the most effective items for defending yourself from fatness’. Funny, but also bollocks. Depends entirely on what you do with the rest of your day. 

Ingredients:

  • 1 litre clear chicken stock
  • 4 carrots
  • 1 x large pak choi, approx. 250g, stalks for stock, green heads shredded for ramen
  • 1 bunch spring onions, half for the stock, the rest for garnish
  • 1 inch ginger, crushed
  • 2 x seaweed konnyaku noodle
  • 2 x chicken breast
  • 1 tbsp. rapeseed oil
  • 2 tbsp. mirin
  • 2 tbsp. soy sauce
  • 1 tablespoons sesame oil
  • 1 pinch ground white pepper
  • 1 teaspoon sesame seeds
  • 500g beansprouts
  • 2 tbsp. dashi miso paste
  • 2 tbsp. white sesame seeds, toasted
  • 1 garlic clove, minced
  • 1 pinch hot chilli powder
  • brown beech mushrooms
  • enoki mushrooms

Instructions:

  • Begin by prepping the chicken stock – this can be done in the morning to allow the flavours to develop, or not. Add 3 of the carrots to the stock along with the spring onion, the stalks of the pak choi and the crushed ginger – you can do this by giving the ginger a bash with a rolling pin. Bring the stock to a simmer and keep it there for 30 mins. Strain and reserve
  • When you are ready to make the meal, rinse the konnyaku noodles in a sieve under cold water and set aside to drain
  • Very thinly slice the remaining spring onions for garnish. Set aside
  • Then prep the chicken breast: in a non-stick pan heat the rapeseed oil and fry the breasts to get some colour. Then add the mirin, the light soy sauce, white pepper and the sesame oil and turn the breasts frequently as the mixture quickly develops into a glaze
  • Remove the breasts from the pan, sprinkle with toasted sesame seeds and leave until cool enough to handle. You want to slice each breast on the diagonal before placing in the ramen bowls
  • Now mix the white miso paste with the minced garlic and chili powder
  • In a pan, bring the broth to a near simmer, stir in the miso paste until incorporated. Do not let it reach a rolling boil as you want to keep the goodness of the miso from spoiling
  • Place the noodles in the ramen bowl, then place about it the beansprouts, the shredded pak choi and the mushrooms, each in their own section
  • Now pour the simmering broth into the ramen bowl
  • Finally place the chicken breast to one side, arranging it so it sits a little proud of the broth, then the spring onion

Singapore Kelp Noodle

Since this shitty year started, I’ve eaten out four times: we had a November reservation at China Tang, but when that did not happen, rescheduled for the 4th of D: main restaurant was heaving so switched to a quieter table away from the melee where we pretended, clutching our whisky sours, that we were not being idiots too.

Lockdown 2 had me revisiting Chinese favourites whilst stuck at home. No. 1: Singapore Vermicelli, although after a year apart, I’d forgotten what it looked like.  From memory, it had turmeric in it. And beansprouts. After a goog, turns out I know nothing about Singapore Vermicelli. And neither does Singapore. Nor my father. As a child I could depend on him ordering it, knowing I’d have some of his to share, but those days are gone. When I asked him today what he thought went in it, he said ‘junk’. And it’s his favourite dish too, so that’s love for you.

Singapore V is actually a Cantonese dish from Hong Kong made with ‘the British invention of curry powder’, a conceit that can go straight in the bin. Further down the hole, variations include peas, carrots, mushrooms, Chinese cabbage and water chestnut… what. the. actual. fuck. What I do know, before I lose my mind, is that I’m not turning this into a dog’s dinner: I’m resurrecting the dish I’m most nostalgic for (think 80’s China Town and Wong Kei before it got a 1-out-of-5-star hygiene rating in the millennium). 

My recipe uses kelp noodles and beansprouts because I am on diet and obsessed with beansprouts: they taste fabulous, are low cal. and packed with calcium, vitamin c and iron. A lot of recipes also call for pork Char Sui, but I think it’s too noisy. For me, this has always been about the comfort of slightly dry curried noodles and beansprouts, with highlights of egg and bacon, so have opted for Ibérico instead – the thinly sliced Ibérico you typically get for Shabu Shabu.

This dish should be made with rice vermicelli but despite being fat free, vermicelli has a significantly higher carb content versus kelp noodles (44/100g v. 1/100g respectively). So that’s what I’m going for because I’m getting older and keeping the weight off is getting harder. And then there’s menopause to look forward to, if Covid doesn’t get me first.

If you are not into eating your friends, then tofu is the sub, but to handle all that tossing I’d opt for crispy frying/baking it first so it holds itself. 

Ingredients:

  • 340g kelp noodles
  • 14 king prawns, shelled and deveined
  • 1 chicken breast
  • 200g Ibérico pork, thin slices
  • 4 tbsp. peanut oil
  • 3 eggs, beaten
  • 1 red pepper, quartered and sliced into strips
  • ½ an onion, thinly sliced 
  • 400g beansprouts
  • 2 tbsp. Shaoxing Chinese cooking wine 
  • ½ tsp white sugar
  • 2 tsp Madras curry powder
  • 2 tsp chilli powder
  • ½tsp turmeric powder 
  • ½ tsp ground white pepper
  • ½ garlic bulb, minced
  • 1 inch ginger, grated
  • 2 thinly sliced green chilli

Instructions:

  • Preheat oven to 180C. Cook the chicken and pork for 20 minutes, remove and leave to cool before slicing the chicken into strips and cubing the pork
  • Remove the kelp noodles from the pack, place in a bowl and cut in half before soaking in water for 20 mins. Drain and set aside
  • Combine the Shaoxing, sugar, spices and white pepper in a bowl 
  • Heat a tbsp. of the peanut oil in a wok over medium heat, add the king prawns and cook until just done – remove and set aside
  • Add 2 tbsp. peanut oil into the wok. Add the beaten egg and keep moving the wok so the egg keeps moving in a broad circular shape – and this takes some arm work. You want to make a thin omelette so once almost all the egg is set, use a spatula to roll it up in the wok and then onto a chopping board. Slice into strips when slightly cooled
  • Add another tbsp. of peanut oil to the wok and then add the garlic, then the grated ginger and fry briefly
  • Then add the onion and stir fry until the onion begins to soften
  • Then add the red pepper and fry for another minute or so
  • Add half the kelp noodles, half the beansprouts, half the Shaoxing and spice mixture and toss
  • Then add the chicken and pork and toss again
  • Add the rest of the Shaoxing mixture, the remainder of noodles, give it a good mix and add the beansprouts, prawns and egg
  • Toss again until everything is heated through. Serve immediately