The Cocoanut

This week we see promising signs that Melbourne is finally shedding off its wintry coat, giving way to bright blue skies and toasty sunshine that smell of spring. On such fine days, a few hours at the Queen Vic Market allow for some relaxed walking and a session of grocery therapy, which is really the most affordable form of shopping for us poor university students.

I always make a stopover at the Minh Phat Asian Supermarket nearby which stocks pretty much everything a semi-serious cook needs for his oriental supplies, and the deli section of the Market. Here, in passageways decorated in the style of European bazaars, we find traders selling cheese, sausages, bread and a stall dedicated to selling butter.

My favourite item is the pesto. Purists may only limit themselves to the basil variety, but if purity is not your thing then you might enjoy the pumpkin, sun dried tomato, coriander and capsicum pesto on offer. My favourite is the macadamia pesto, which is too rich for my own good but well worth the risk.

During Ramadan, Muslims are especially fond of sweets. After a whole day of fasting, a good way to reinvigorate oneself is with a dose of sugar. Traditionally this came in the form of dates, plump velvety dark ones that taste like crystallized sugar. But why stop at dates when there are so many sweet treats around?

The corner stall at the entrance of the deli stocks a variety of cakes and biscuits. I got myself a thick slab of the Napoleon slice, made of layers of puff pastry alternating with custard cream and jam. The contrast between the crunchy pastry and soft cream is what daydreams are made of, but in reality it’s a messy affair and it’s really best eaten in private.

During Ramadan, after a whole day of fasting, I like something a bit more substantial. Recently I discovered one of the stalls at Queen Victoria Market stocks challah from Glick’s, a famous Melbourne Jewish bakery renowned for its bagels. I’ve always wanted to try this sweet bread, after a friend went on and on about how good his challah toast went with butter. If plain toast can arouse so much excitement in one person, that toast has got to be good. So I bought one to try myself, as an appetizer to break the fast with.

Challah is a bit like the French brioche, except that it’s not as rich and dairy-free. It’s usually shaped into a braid, although there are also round challahs. Personally, I prefer the braided challahs because they’re easier to cut into toasts. Soft and faintly sweet, it’s good enough to eat on its own, but when lightly toasted and slathered with butter, you have a completely different treat altogether. The slight crunch of the toasted layer gives way to a soft interior that’s stretchy and rich, without being overwhelming. It really is a good way to end a day of resisting temptations.

Although this vegetable is very popular among Southeast Asians and the Chinese, I have difficulty buying it in Melbourne, and so far I’ve only been able to locate one stall in the whole of Queen Victoria Market that supplies it. It is sold in bunches, and preferably we buy those which are abundant in leaves rather than stems, because it is in the leaves that the luscious flavour is most concentrated, whereas the hollow stems I find are only good for supplying fibre.

Like most vegetable dishes, the tastiest ones are the easiest to prepare. For a plateful of classic kangkung belacan, all you need are a bunch or two of kangkung, shallots, garlic, ginger, red chillies, and the magic ingredient, belacan. Like many Malaysian dishes, the ingredients can be adjusted to taste, so a recipe really merely acts as a guide. Trust your instincts, and adjust according to your preferences.

Kangkung belacan (serves 2-3)

2 bunches kangkung, hard stems removed, washed and squeezed of excess water.
1 shallot, chopped (Most recipes either make do without or use a mere teaspoon, but I love shallots so I use the whole thing)
1 clove of garlic, chopped
an inch of ginger, chopped
2 red chillies, cut at a slant
belacan, about the size of a 2 cm square (dry-fried and pounded)

Saute the shallot, garlic and ginger in a wok until slightly golden.
Add the chillies and ground belacan, and smother the belacan over the aromatics until well-mixed.

Add the kangkung over high heat and mix thoroughly. Initially the wok will seem overwhelmed by the volume of kangkung, but like spinach, it will shrink dramatically once cooked. To speed up the cooking process, you can cover the wok for a few minutes until the kangkung has shrunk in size.

Season with salt to taste, and dish out onto a plate.

Note: If the kangkung is not squeezed of excess water, it will result in a blackish puddle in the cooked dish due to the belacan mixing with water. Of course, there is nothing wrong with this, but I prefer not to have my favourite vegetable meal drowning in black puddle , so I squeeze it thoroughly, just as you would with spinach.

Unlike Malaysia’s pasar malam, which is sheltered by the oversized Technicolor umbrellas, Melbourne’s Night Market is held under one giant roof, but apart from that, it has the same vital ingredients that make for a bustling bazaar, arts and craft, the lure of cheap imitation apparel, and of course, abundant food.

While there was the predictable fare of pizza, souvlaki and stir-fry Chinese noodles, regional specialties such as Paella, Persian floss candy and Turkish-style chocolate crepe made for an impressive culinary display. My life-long fantasy of trying out Poffertjes (Dutch pancakes) was once again dashed as a long queue of about 10 metres formed behind the counter.

My missed chance quickly turned into an arresting opportunity as I caught eye on the Ethiopian food counter. Apart from cous-cous, which is a staple of Morocco, I have never tasted African cuisine. I quickly queued behind the growing line and waited in anticipation for my turn to order. At $8, I was given a generous scoop of kik alicha, which is a rough puree of split beans cooked in spices and saf, an Ethiopian beef casserole. These are eaten with 2 pieces of enjera, a slightly sour rolled pancake that was perfect to soak up all the spice-laden gravy.

I cannot seem to end a meal without something sweet, and when you’re in a food bazaar, with the temptation of Pistachio nougat, bird’s nest baklava, fudge, chocolate fondue and even ais kacang (shaved ice drizzled with evaporated milk and rose syrup), it is simply impossible to deny my sweet tooth its craving. I had an almond pudding with custard and fresh strawberries which had a nice crunch that marries well with the softness of the custard.

There is something about the hustle and bustle, the throngs of people walking about and trying out freshly-prepared food that makes the whole night market experience so enjoyable. Cheap prices (by Aussie standards) help too, of course.