Sunday Rendang

Sunday is Cook Something Day. Plotnik saw he had some stewing beef in the freezer that it was time to use up, so he went scrounging through his recipe booklet until he came to VENCIA'S BEEF RENDANG.

Plot has mentioned before about traveling to Singapore several times to play for weddings within the wealthy and complicated Jewish community there. You may remember that in Singapore there are eligible Jewish women but few eligible Jewish men (the term 'eligible' appears to apply to wealth and lineage). And in certain other overseas business communities (like Dubai or Oman or Bahrain) there are eligible Jewish men but no Jewish women. So when these men reach the proper age (35) they travel to Singapore to find a wife (20). The women are spoiled rotten and the men are starving for them.

Plot and Yosi were in Singapore to play for one of the wealthier families (electronics, publishing) whose daughter was marrying a diamond dealer from Dubai, via the London School of Economics.

Vencia had seen it all. She was Ramah's cook and Plottie and his partner Yosi were staying in Ramah's penthouse because the bride was related to Ramah. Ramah was never there but Vencia cooked three meals a day for Yos and Plottie, who were the only people in the house. There were plastic covers over all the furniture in the living room. The air conditioning had been turned off, even though Vencia lived in the house.

The penthouse was on the top floor of a luxury building on Orchard Road, the principle shopping boulevard in Singapore. It was August, so it was really hot on the top floor of the building. It was 'way worse inside than outside, but the smells coming from the kitchen made it impossible to leave the house.

Vencia was Filipina, like most of the other cooks and housekeepers servicing the wealthy merchant class in Singapore. She had had to learn how to cook the incomparable Malay-Sumatran-Straits Chinese blend that is the mainstay of Singaporean cuisine. So perhaps her beef rendang was not as pure as others. For one thing, it calls for 4T of curry powder, probably due to the presence of the venerable East Indian community in Singapore, along with the coconut cream and kaffir lime leaves and tamarind water that are pure Malay. No garlic -- but tons of shallots, ground into a spice paste with chilies and pounded lemon grass.

Speaking of curry powder, Plotnik thought this was a food story but maybe it's a travel story.

When he and Ducknik and The Great PD and Great 5H were in Johannesburg in 2005 they went to a small mall, in the back of which was a spice shop run by the world's grouchiest spice seller. When Plotnik asked her to please put together a curry powder blend, she took her large spoon, growled, then in the most disparaging way possible threw the spoon into a few canvas spice bags, a ladle of this, a ladle of that, a ladle of the other thing, then tossed the mix into a plastic bag, still snarling, and threw it all into Plottie's hands, with a sneer that made him think this would be one truly tasteless curry powder.

It turned out to be one GREAT curry powder, hot as hell but complex and delicious. He used it since then, but yesterday threw the very last of it into the rendang. Now, they have to go back to get more.

The Indians in South Africa and the Indians in Singapore came for the same reason at roughly the same time -- the British colonials needed workers. The workers brought their families and their spices.

Back in Singapore, after a few days Plotnik started asking Vencia for her recipes. He got this complicated rendang, which in its most basic form is simply beef sauteed in a chili paste and then simmered slowly all day in coconut milk, lemon juice and tamarind until every bit of that liquid you see in the photo has disappeared into the amazingly succulent meat.

He wishes he had more of Vencia's recipes. It's been ten years now -- and the Jewish community in Singapore has been shrinking. Much of it has relocated to Stiletto City, where they have their own Sephardic synagogues. Back in Singapore, Plottie hopes Vencia still has a job. Thanks to her, the next time you're coming over for dinner you might get chicken cutlets or yellow pea fritters or even beef rendang if Plotnik has a few days warning.