There are times when I'm so glad my Chinese race perfected the art of steaming food. I love steamed food. Perhaps it's the steamy fragrance that tantalises the tastebuds when you lift the cover, the piping hot "comfort-food" texture, the way the steam locks in the juices of the meat making it incredibly tender, or just the magic of putting some meat and ginger on a plate and watching it turn into a beautifully fragrant, tender dish surrounded by a light, tasty stock.
We had some belly pork the other day and Dad steamed it with little pieces of salt fish, ginger slices and some chilli paid for added zing. It was lovely! There was a little too much salt fish, though. We tend to overestimate such things! The broth was really nice, lightly flavoured by the meat with a tad of saltiness and zing.
We had something steamed again the other day, but with chicken instead. Sis bought some chicken thighs and had marinated them in the usual oyster sauce marinade, intending to fry them with mushrooms and ginger. But I managed to persuade her to steam them instead. You can't really see much under all that ginger and mushroom but the chicken was wonderfully tender. It was a dish created by accident and one recipe I'm certainly going to keep!
How I miss my home-cooked dinners!