a weeknight dinner idea
It’s officially fall in the Netherlands and life for me has entered a hectic phase. For one, I’ve started going to Dutch language school twice a week. Taalcafe—the Dutch practice sessions at the library organised by volunteers—is back in full swing from summer break. Classes at the cooking studio are ramping up as the days get colder and everyone wants to spend time indoors. I’ve started working once a week at a fantastic little Mexican restaurant that recently opened up near my apartment. M cookbook PlantAsia: Asia’s Vegetable Wisdom in Recipes, Stories and Techniques is launching soon, and meanwhile I’m trying to polish up the manuscript for my next cookbook.
It’s wild, but also a wonderful rhythm that I feel grateful for. I’m relishing feeling like a student again—both in the kitchen and in school—while drawing fulfilment also from my teaching job. It feels like special to be able to express and satisfy different parts of myself through the various roles I now hold, and I count my blessings constantly.
All this to say, cooking dinner daily can sometimes be tricky as I shuttle from place to place. But, as always, I look forward to enjoying a home-cooked dinner and believe it to be one of life’s luxuries. This weeknight meal is one of my favourites, in how it comes together in 30 minutes (or the time it takes to cook rice), while being endlessly comforting and customisable to what I’ve got in the refrigerator.
The inspiration comes from my time at the Mexican restaurant. I believe Mexican cuisine to be one of the most underrated cuisines on the global stage, and at the same time feel a kinship with the cuisine as there are so many parallels to the kind of ingredients and flavour profiles we enjoy in Singapore: coriander! Raw onions! Dried chillies! Banana leaves! At the restaurant, I’m learning to use a traditional clay comal (traditionally used to heat tortillas, toast spices, or roast chillies) and work with new ingredients such as nopales and dried jalapenos… but above all, I frequently marvel at how Mexican cuisine is able to wring so much flavour out of the simplest ingredients.
One of the eye-openingly delicious things I’ve learnt is what I call Lisa’s rice. Lisa is the co-owner and chef of the restaurant and her rice draws upon the traditional Mexican way of cooking rice—toasting the rice in oil and onions before adding water. She flavours the rice with lime leaves, and the end result is so rich, fragrant, and comforting, I could have sworn it was made with coconut milk or chicken stock. I’ve since adapted it for weekday nights and have prepared it several times now, and it’s always invited a lot of praise and appreciation. Lime leaf is still my favourite, but on occasion I cook the rice with lemongrass and pandan.
A very fitting main course to serve with it is sambal fish. Growing up, my mother used to slather whole fish in jarred sambal, wrap it in a banana leaf, then grill it in our oven until the char of the banana leaf and the sizzling sambal took over our kitchen. Hawkers make a variant with stingray, grilled more expediently on a flat-top or sizzling cast-iron plate. At home, it’s really not difficult to replicate this. A simple pan and your favourite store-bought sambal can be used (I use my homemade rempah, turning it into a sambal with belacan, sugar, and tamarind).
For a vegetable side, I like something fresh, refreshing, and slightly tart. I have a love for Sri Lankan-style sambols massaged with freshly grated coconut, lime juice, chillies, and onion. Almost any greens you like can be used; the traditional choice is gotu kola (pennyworth) but I reach for kale since I’m in the Netherlands. The defining ingredient is grated coconut, which adds a lovely richness and milky sweetness, which balances the lime juice well.
These two dishes are so quick to rustle up that you can prepare them as the rice cook. By the time the rice is done cooking, you’ll have a full meal. Recipes for the entire meal below.
Lisa’s rice (adapted)
Makes 4 servings
