Reinterpreting Asian Cuisine
Twists on the familiar expand our culinary lexicon and bring new perspectives. But we must seek to understand the cuisine’s essence first, say chefs
Next to a holiday, the best way to explore the world is often a trip through the palate. As chefs paint their experiences and favourite memories on their dishes, a meal becomes a transportive learning journey. To this end, reinterpreted Asian cuisine strikes an interesting chord— diners either leave with dissonance from the oxymoronic flavours, or intrigue at hitherto-thought impossible pairings that expand one’s taste vocabulary. The debate can be intense and deeply personal (almost every chef points to his or her mother as the primary inspiration). How do we balance between respecting traditional recipes and taking creative liberties?
A TIME AND PLACE FOR EVERYTHING
Home-based chef Patricia Chen of Sekel Kitchen, who is well-known for her traditional Hakka dishes such as abacus seeds and ginger chicken in homemade rice wine, is all for incorporating new techniques into traditional recipes, as long as the intention is clearly defined.
She says: “The key is in communicating correctly what is traditional, an interpretation or an invention with Asian produce or methods. If the dish claims to be a traditional rendition, then I would expect integrity in texture and taste, and not some form of ice cream, emulsion or wafer. We shouldn’t mess with provenance as it affects the story we tell to our children.”
Similarly, fourth-generation Orang Laut Firdaus Sani’s priority is to highlight the existence of subcultures with unique characteristics such as his within the broader category of Malay cuisine. He explains: “The Orang Laut people are communities that have sprouted around the sea and carved their livelihoods around it. While some of our dishes intersect with the wider Nusantara cuisine, it’s important to recognise that our food is fundamentally shaped by a specific way of life and the people who relied on the provisions of the sea for sustenance.”
The dishes in Firdaus’ seafood-based menus, such as sotong hitam, which is squid cooked with garlic, dried chilli and squid ink until it is immersed in a thick, savoury and spicy black gravy, and siput sedut lemak (snails in coconut gravy) are all prepared with the same methods used by his forefathers when they were living on Pulau Semakau.
He wants to hone his family’s traditional cooking methods first before making modern interpretations of the dishes. “I’m not adverse to using European cooking methods to introduce Orang Laut cuisine if it allows me to reach a wider demographic while retaining the cuisine’s essence in flavours and history,” he adds.
On the other hand, modern Malay food pop-up Arang by Nurl Asyraffie Bin Mohamed Shukor was
envisioned to be authentic in its spicy and aromatic flavours yet uplifted by European cooking techniques such as sous vide and brining.
“To be honest, my parents don’t like my food,” shares Nurl Asyraffie dryly. “They don’t find it familiar.”
But he endeavours to present Malay food in an elegant, plated setting. And he credits his mother for being the biggest influence in the way he cooks as he melds her traditional methods with his culinary experience at restaurants such as Singapore’s Corner House and Bangkok’s Gaggan.
He says: “Malay cuisine should not be passed off as cheap food because it is undermining the time and effort to prepare each dish. Ulam, a salad comprising raw ingredients such as winged bean, ginger flower and ulam raja, for example, is widely used in Malay cuisine but in recent times, the interest in it has dissipated. It rests on the younger generation like us to be torchbearers of our culture and heritage.”
Nurl Asyraffie’s venture was largely inspired by his former work mentor, chef-owner Mano Thevar of Thevar. The modern Indian restaurant and bar’s mission is to showcase Indian cuisine on a fine dining scale, with plates such as oyster rasam, which riffs on his grandmother’s recipe of the savoury soup cooked with anchovy sambal and eaten with rice and fried eggs. His reinterpretation uses Irish oysters topped with rasam vinaigrette and sambal oil.
“I’ve explored using French and European techniques with various Indian flavours to deliver over 300 dishes in the past three years,” says the Penang-born chef Thevar, who has previously worked at Michelin-starred restaurants Guy Savoy and Waku Ghin.
“The right balance between staying true to the original and pushing the boundaries is when you have done enough research and development to dissect the recipe and capture the essence of it. You then use good-quality ingredients to emulate the recipe in smaller-sized portions, or use a different technique to create something new.”
A NEW PERSPECTIVE
While research, experimentation and listening to feedback is expected of chefs in the reinterpretation of Asian cuisine, the best takeaway for diners is tasting myriad cultures through a different lens.
Sekel Kitchen’s Chen recalls how a masala with fruit compote, cauliflower couscous and crispy potato at modern Indian gastrobar Firangi Superstar reminded her of the memorable Indian dishes in the UK.
She says: “Some of us may baulk at the thought of masala with sweet elements, but to me it worked brilliantly. Sometimes, it can be liberating to eat with no preconceived ideas of traditional foods, and then discover their traditional components later. We learn to train our palates to be open to surprises and not be weighed down by historical practices.”
Singaporean chef Ace Tan, who is known for his “progressive Asian” cuisine and is now on a residency at Stellar at 1-Altitude, is exploring Asian heritage in his Aisa (art invokes senses and appetite) menu, which contains slivers of childhood memories and knowledge gleaned from a year-long stint in South Korea. Each dish comforts yet surprises, creating an incredibly visceral dining experience: a white asparagus porridge transcends simplicity with a black vinegar reduction and pickled goji berries; a Wagyu striploin comes with a palate-cleansing burnt dragon fruit.
Tan says: “I want to elevate the ingredients on each creation and let them shine in a new light. I believe less is more; too many details tend to complicate things.”
At Michelin-starred Peranakan restaurant Candlenut, there are glimpses of creativity and family practices. Chef-owner Malcolm Lee channelled the bitter dark
“Most of my dishes are traditional but influenced by my preferences, experiences, travels and tastes” —MALCOLM LEE
chocolate and coffee notes of the buah keluak, a nut that grows on one of Singapore’s heritage kepayang trees, into an ice cream. He serves the iconic Peranakan chicken dish ayam buah keluak with the black insides of the nut already removed from its shell, just like how his grandmother makes it.
“The main thing I want people to associate Peranakan cuisine with is that everything is a labour of love, and it is about people and family,” says Lee. “Most of my dishes are traditional but influenced by my preferences, experiences, travels and tastes. There’s a contemporary touch while retaining their heritage and culture.”
Albert Au, the executive Chinese chef of Michelinstarred Cantonese restaurant Jiang-nan Chun at Four Seasons Hotel Singapore, does not shy away from unconventional ingredient combinations either. His braised pork belly uses pineapples, apricots and raisins instead of rock sugar to enhance the meat’s natural sweetness. Oscietra caviar and red wine jelly, two uncommon ingredients in traditional Cantonese cuisine, are layered with a piece of crispy suckling pig for a quirky nutty and sweet dimension. “My focus is quality ingredients and classic techniques with imagination, and to lift spirits with inspirational good cooking,” says Au, simply. And no matter how a cuisine is reinterpreted, that’s really all we ask for in a meal.