All posts by Marlena Spieler

Being offered watermelon at a watermelon farm

The rural suburb of Beijing, Daxing, is still sleepy and undiscovered by foreigners–though i’m told the largest airport in China is scheduled to open in this area a few years from now.  Until then, despite its center  filled with shops and markets, restaurants and street foods in the dizzying way so much of China is, Daxing is famous for one thing: watermelons. Sweet and juicy, in season, the melons are everywhere. I visited end of May start of June and pretty sure I didn’t have a different  fruit during my stay–nor a meal without melon.

Its fine with me however, more than fine: when the weather is hot and sultry: nothing prevents my own inner melt-down than juicy, cool melon.

This capital of watermelon takes its title seriously, with a variety of watermelon destinations: an AMAZING museum, farms for visiting, even theme parks.

Possibly the most charming melon-themed location, though, was one I didn’t even know about ahead of time: a local municipal park. Right across from my hotel.

The first morning I awoke, jetlagged, I headed out for a walk and discovered it. Not large, but there are green grassy patches, winding paths, and large paved areas for excercise. A few days later I discovered group calasthenics at a fairly challenging level, each participant seemingly synchronized in their keep-fit regime.

part of the white crane pose?

But earlier in the morning, around sunrise, the park was full of people doing Tai Chi. especially older people: socializing, stretching, doing group tai-chi, separate excercize practicing, and simply walking their grandbabies over to watch.

And among all this sociable activity were, scattered throughout the park, beautiful watermelon sculptures.

hard to tell from photo, i think its a large watermelon decorated in some way

peasant woman/goddess with watermelon

homage to the watermelon

nine melons, like eggs, each larger than the next,with last melon opening up to show a baby

DaDong, the restaurant named after its chef-owner,  is where I would recommend you go when you ask–as you inevitably will when you visit Beijing–“Where should I go for Peking duck?”

You’ll ask because, of course–its one of the must-do things in the capital. Your list: Great Wall? check. Forbidden City? check. Hutong Visit? check. Tiennamen Square? check. Peking Duck? oh yes.

Peking Duck has long been a speciality of Peking/Beijing, and it is an amazing dish: the bird, specially raised for its fate on Beijing tables, prepared and cooked to a state of crisp laquered skin that sometimes is so sweet it is nearly honeyed in taste, it is hard if not impossible to find elsewhere in the word.

Succulent, tender flesh and crisp laquered-brown skin is carved into smallish morsels, arranged on a plate that arrives along with thin pancakes, sweet-savoury dipping sauce, and a handful of fresh accompaniments: cucumber, cilantro/coriander leaves, green/spring onion: you take a little duck flesh–dab of sauce, plop in the fresh stuff, and roll it up. It is divine: a smallish morsel so uniquely well-balanced as to sweet-savoury-umami tastes and lovely textures: crisp, fresh, long cooked, I mean: that little delicacy you hold in your hand is one of China’s most opulent, perfect, specialities.

(confession of greedy feelings: in general the plates of duck always seem too small but that is because the duck is so luscious my inner glutton starts carousing for more ahead of time: but to be honest: Beijing duck is so rich one really can only eat a small amount.)

At a Peking Duck dinner, the service of duck is but one of an array of courses, albeit a high point of the meal, the course that you expect and are so excited to see, situated in a menu which balances all other tastes and textures–which Chinese food does so brilliantly.

Many restaurants in Beijing are known as roast duck restaurants, slinging out duck after duck. But DaDong is not one of those centuries-old Peking duck palaces: it is famous purely for its amazing duck (and imaginative, delicious food in general). Here, the classic,  demanding duck is transformed to an even higher level of delicious, finesse, until it becomes a thing of beauty. The ducks are rubbed, air-dried, roasted while hanging in an oven of open flames from which  they emerge: succulent fleshed, with a skin that is so crisp and crackling, the luscious fatty layer under the skin turned into an exquisite mouthful, light, crunchy, without even a trace of greasiness. It is a genius of a roasted bird, and there is a cadre of staff working hard and skillfully to produce this amazing roasted duck. I was told that they are experimenting with new ways of cutting the duck, that is how devoted to his craft is Chef DaDong.

one of the chefs roasting ducks in the wood-burning oven, over open flames

I’m not saying that the other traditional roast ducks you find in Beijing aren’t brilliant: a handful of years back my favourite duck was served by an acolyte of Chef Doh, whose face was at the time appearing on a postal stamp along with a selection of other chefs. I must get the name and address for you, because not only was the duck wonderful, but everything on the menu was as well: fresh, traditional, delectable. And the staff was so kind to us, poor foreigners, pointing and trying hard to figure out what to eat. (in addition to the duck, i loved the cucumber salad, and the cloud ears fungus among other things).

But we were on the other side of Beijing this trip, and were invited to DaDong by Edouard Cointreau, member of a prestigious food and drink family, descendant of Rabelais, and founder of World Gourmand Awards and Paris Bookfair, among other events. He is also President of China Food Television. I’m sure there are roles he plays in the food world that I don’t even know about, so forgive me if I don’t mention them. Edouard lives in Beijing much of the year, and wherever he is, Europe, China, wherever, lives the life of wonderful food. So if he recommends or even better, invites, I go.  “I eat there about once a week” he shared as we wandered through the kitchen, lucky enough to be given a peek at what goes into the food at DaDong.

chef carving duck at DaDong

The duck at DaDong is revolutionary, so to speak, in raising and cooking methods, as well as attention paid to the best way of slicing and serving the duck. Also, its presentation is updated and freshened: the little handkerchief-like pancakes that you expect are served, yes, but also puffy little sesame-seeded cakes. The cucumber, cilantro/coriander, green/spring onion has also fruits/vegetables in season: sweet red pepper, juicy melon, chopped garlic, red turnip. I like also that the DaDong duck skin is not as candy-sweet as sometimes the skin can be. At DaDong, the skin glistens crisp and brown-hued, tasting slightly sweet and uber-umami. It is lusciousness.

All in all, DaDong’s duck is transcedental: the oh-so-traditional dish elevated to a new level by sheer good cooking and vision.

duck, little puffy sesame breads, dipping sauce and vegetables

In addition to duck, Dadong creates and serves some of the most inventive, modern food: its not really fusion, yet it fuses: past and future, east and west, traditional and modern: its a modern view of food in China right now, at its very best. For instance, one of its signature dishes is what appears at first to be a plate of cherries. You are instructed to pick two next to each other. At first glance they are both glazed, plump, enticing, but otherwise appear the same. Bite into one: it is a glazed cherry. its lovely.  Bite into the second: it is a glazed…..tiny ball of foie gras (France’s Rougie Foie Gras is producing foie gras in China). Its a surprise and it is delicious, and makes you smile as the delicious liver melts between your lips.

which is a cherry and which is foie gras? (the one with the bite taken out of it)

a plate of cherries….or is it?

(The restaurant is a combination of tradition and modern, balanced and lyrical, with great horse sculptures as you walk in along a sort of boardwalk, over a modern stream full of fish which were being caught for someones dinner as I crossed….I am told it is located in what was formerly an imperial granary. Oh, and in addition to the duck: they are so proud of their sea cucumber–dried, braised, served in a fragrant pot–that it appears on their neon-lit sign, right next to DaDong and Duck…..)

1-2Nanxincong, Shangye Daxia, 22A

Dongsishitiao, Dongcheng District

tel: 5169 0329

Mohana Gill leading the demonstration, with Mridula Baljekar helping

One of the things about cookbooks that I love is the personal aspect: cookbooks that are like scrapbooks of a persons life, a recipe that tells how she or he first tasted it, or how their mamma makes it, or how it is long a tradition in their village.  In other words, I like to see–and taste–what other people are and have been eating. It is the sort of thing that amplifies our lives.

Some cookbooks do this by taking a memoir form, others by portraiting a culture, and a land, especially a land that has long been inaccessible to much of the world.

So it is that I fell in love with Myanmar: Cuisine, Culture and Customs, a book by Mohana Gill, that won a top prize at the 2014 Gourmand Awards held in Beijing. I had met Mohana a number of years ago, in Malaysia where she lives, and had seen her at various Gourmand events over the years. Her previous books, on vegetables and fruits, with a feeling towards children, were charmingly delicious.

But it was Maynmar, a book written about her homeland, that captured my imagination. Burnese food was not new to me: having lived in San Francisco for many years we had several Burmese restaurants. I frequented the one near City Hall, for their tea leaf salad, ginger salad, pork and mango curry, tomato curry, so many things…..I ordered like this: choose one old favourite, and one new dish. That way I could explore and yet always have enough of the tastes I adore.

So I wasn’t a stranger to the cuisine: but i WAS a stranger to the culture. And to cooking Burmese food myself.

Suddenly here was my friend Mohana with a book about her culture, her homeland, her home cuisine.  I hurried along to her demonstration at the Bejing Gourmand Awards and Bookfair. We–a thoroughly interestional crowd of cookbook authors which included Mridula Baljekar of India, Dorinda Hafner of Australia, Ofer Vardi of Israel, and really: the whole world was represented– munched the many goodies she brought. We chomped on toasted lima beans, tasted golden crunchy bits of garlic, took teeny nibbles from hot hot hot chillies…..as Mohana showed slides of her homeland and foods, we tasted our way through the ingredients. And at the end of her talk we were all yabbering at once: I want to go! when are you going? should we go together? when can Mohana meet up with us and take us around?

Together we all, under Mohana’s guidance, made tea leaf salad. So much garlic! so many chillies! some were a little frightened….but as we tasted and tasted and tasted, there wasn’t one who didn’t fall under the spell of this fascinating dish: a dish that so represents Burmese food: the fermented tea leaves, the crispy cruncy seeds and legumes, and enough garlic and chillies to win over even the most timid of eaters. We, to the last person gathered, LOVED it. As a banquet was scheduled for not long after the demonstration, I wanted to save some for the other delegates who hadn’t been lucky enough to come to the demo.

I’m not saying that people didn’t look at me strangely: i mean: who goes to a banquet with a big bowl of food in their arms? For each table, I divvyed up the salad, and plopped it down to puzzled looks. But here is the thing: the next day wave after wave of delegates came to me saying: that was so delicious, what was it, where can we find it, how can we buy or make it?

It was easy to simply say the name of the book.

But here is the thing: a number of years ago, in fact, a lot of years ago, before europstar, and before ease of travel throughout the Eu for Europeans, I visited France. At the border, or possibly an information office upon arrival, we were given a small booklet describing all of the delicious specialities of the whole country, region by region. In one fell swoop I learned about where to find the best goats cheese (La Loire), where to find fougasse bread (Provence), where the best butter was (Normandy) and so forth. It was one big food and drink education of France. And I’ve always cherished it. A few years later I was lucky enough to come upon a similar book of Italian specialities, and again, in one fell swoop became italo-literate, foodwise.

Now of course, so many of these things are sold in British and American supermarkets, and in fact, all over the world people are familiar with French and Italian specialities. But Burmese food: THAT is a mystery. I think it would be wonderful if the embassies or government tourist bureaus of Myanmar could hand out such a book, or booklet based on this book, as a way of familiarizing strangers to this exotic cuisine. I know that I want to try the delicate soup of roselle (like sorrel) soup with a smoky hit of grilled fish; and the tomato curry, with its ginger and turmeric, and masses of coriander leaves and just enough chillies to slap my mouth in a good way,  looks like something i might like to make throughout tomato season.

And really: once you’ve eaten the food, you already know the locals. You’re ready to open your heart; actually i’ll take it a step further: once you fall in love with  cuisine, its not far behind that you will be in love with the culture too.

Here is a recipe excerpted from Myanmar, Cuisine, Culture and Customs:

Published by Marshall Cavandish, all rights belonging to Mohana Gill.

Khazan Thoke: Cellophane Noodle Salad

Serves 4-6

Mohana says this is possibly the most popular salad in Myanmar. It is pretty wonderful

250g/9 oz cellophane/glass/mung bean noodles

1 tablespoon roasted chickpea flour (besan; toast it in a small ungreased frying pan until it is golden/brownish)

1 onions, peeled and thinly sliced

1/2 cup chopped coriander leaves/cilantro

1/4 cup coarsely chopped mint leaves

1 tablespoon (or less if desired) chile flakes (i tend to use little if any if i’m using a hot chile oil such as szechuan chile oil, which is easily available, also easy to make, and delicious. And hot, very hot.

2 tablespoons crisp-fried shallots (I prefer to buy these ready made; if not, Mohana has directions for their preparation)

2 tablespoons chile-infused oil/ hot chile oil

2 tablespoons lemon juice

Salt to taste

Fish sauce to taste

Place the cellophane noodles in a large heatproof bowl, and pour boiling water over the noodles to cover. Let sit a few minutes then drain the noodles and refresh under cold running water. Drain and place in a serving bowl. Noodles should be tenderized.

Sprinkle the roasted chickpea flour on the noodles, then add the onion, coriander/cilantro, mint, chile flakes if using, and crisp fried shallots. Toss well.

Add the chile oil and lemon juice, taste and season with salt and fish sauce. Serve as part of a multicourse  menu.

a traditional collection of toasted seeds, nuts, spices, and garlic

Myanmar Cuisine, Culture and Customs with a bowl of Burmese favourites garlics and chillies!

Since I’ve written a book about potatoes–Yummy Potatoes,  http://www.amazon.co.uk/Yummy-Potatoes-Downright-Delicious-Recipes-ebook/dp/B00ANC32Y6– it should come as no surprise that whatever in life happens to challenge me, the answer often involves potatoes. In fact, regardless of the question, the answer is usually potato salad.

The other day I was on hanging on facebook,  while one of my fave peeps–Indian-American Chef, cookbook author, San Francisco restauranteur  and Top Chef Television judge, Suvir Suran–was going on and on about the potato salad he was making. “friends” were oohing and aaaahing. I “watched”, from the other side of the world, as its preparation unfolded. The potatoes, the eggs, the pickles……..yes, it involved pickles. This was my roadblock. I’ve noticed when Suvir has made this potato salad before–I might not remember birthdays and the time of flights, but I always remember when Suvir makes potato salad.

Because it sounds so good, as he whips it lovingly together.

Then, when its ready, he posts pictures of it, and of course, it looks so good. And then,  I know its only a matter of time before I’m boiling spuds and chopped vegetables.

I’ll be honest: his potato salad always looks so good that I start getting nervous when he makes it, like I’ll never taste his potato salad, nor anything so delicious ever! And its not a fear completely unfounded: living abroad I don’t have access to iconic American sweet pickles, and if i do bring them back we end up eating them up long before I make potato salad.

But of course, I have a million potato salads up my sleeve: potato salads I’ve picked up all over the world. In solidarity with Suvir: I marched myself into the kitchen and made my potato salad du jour: with peas and fresh dill (picture upper left)

This is: Not Suvir’s Potato Salad, but mine: with dill, peas, green onions, and….oh yes, roasted pickled peppers

Serves 4

750g/ 1 1/2 lbs small succulent potatoes, such as fingerlings or other salad potato

2 green onions, thinly sliced

About 1/2 cup volume frozen (or fresh young blanched) peas

2-3  teaspoons mild Dijon mustard (such as Maille), or to taste

2-3 heaped tablespoons coarsely chopped or cut up roasted red/pickled/jarred red peppers

2-3 heaped tablespoons coarsely chopped jiardiniera pickled vegetables, finely chopped, plus a little of its marinade

2-3 heaped tablespoons coarsely chopped fresh dill

About 3 heaped tablespoons mayonnaise or as desired

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Cook the potatoes–unpeeled as their skins are probably paper-thin–in cold water to cover, boiling for about 10 minutes. Pour off the water except for a spoonful or two, sprinkle with sea salt, cover and set on a very very low flame. very low. Leave for another 5 or 10 minutes. It will finish steaming the potatoes and drying out their flesh a bit. Could COULD go so far as to let them scorch–a carefully controlled scorch so that it doesn’t burn–which actually gives a beautiful texture and flavour to the spud-letts.

Leave the potatoes to cool until you can handle them. Cut them into large dice or small chunks.

Toss with: green onions, peas, mustard, peppers, jiardiniera and a teaspoon or two of its marinade, the chopped dill. Toss together gently to mix the ingredients evenly but not mash the potatoes.

Fold in the mayonaise, salt and pepper to taste. Chill until ready to eat.

And then because it was so delicious and gobbled up so greedily and quickly, two days later I’m jonseing for another potato salad.  made a different one this morning.

This Also  is Not Suvir’s Potato Salad: this one has Celery, Celery Leaf, and Crunchy Pickled Carrots

This one is very similar–in that it has jiardiniera and brine–but no peas in this one–andthe pickled vegetables in this case are carrots, finely chopped: such a perky punch they pack!

Serves 4

750g/ 1 1/2 lbs tiny salad potatoes such as fingerlings, scrubbed

2 green onions, thinly sliced

2 tablespoons or as desired, chopped fresh dill

2-3 teaspoons mild Dijon type mustard

A few shakes of vinegar or brine from jiardiniera vegetable pickles

About 10 slices pickled carrots from jiardiniera pickled vegetable mix

1 stalk celery, including the leaves, chopped

2-3 heaped tablespoons mayonnaise

Cook the potatoes: place them in cold water to cover, bring to the boil, then reduce heat and simmer until just tender. Drain all except for a spoonful of water, sprinkle with salt, cover, and leave on very low heat for about 5-10 minutes. You don’t NEED to do this, but I think it results in a less watery, more flavourful and firm, potato

Leave to cool until you are able to handle them.

Dice the cooled potatoes and mix with the green onions, dill, mustard, brine from pickled carrots, then add the finely chopped pickled carrots (and celery too if it comes in the mixture).

Fold in the mayonnaise, salt and pepper to taste, and eat now or chill until ready to serve.

I think i’m totally going to get Suvir’s Potato Salad recipe and print it right here! Watch this space…..

OMG: This IS Suvir’s Potato Salad

Serves 8 to 10

Says Suvir: “Ed Schoenfeld, owner of the celebrated Red Farm restaurant in NYC, makes a version of this potato salad for many of his dinner parties. Before I met Ed, I was never a fan of mayonnaise-based potato salad. Once I tasted his version, my opinion changed forever. What’s unusual about this potato salad is that there is sugar in it. The sweetness combines with the sweet-sour taste of the gherkins, the tang of the lime, the spiciness of the cayenne and the herby freshness of the basil to make a potato salad that hits the ground running. With lots of mayonnaise and olive oil, I admit that it isn’t the healthiest salad in this chapter. But it’s not the kind of salad that you make every day—it’s worth the splurge.

4 large eggs

About 175g/  3/4 cup mayonnaise

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

2 tablespoons champagne or white wine vinegar

Juice of 1 lime

1 1/2 tablespoons Dijon mustard

3 tablespoons sugar

1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon kosher salt

1/2 teaspoon cracked peppercorns

1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper

2 bunches of scallions, white and light green part only, thinly sliced

4 tablespoons/   1/4 cup chopped sweet gherkins

Several BIG handfuls/  1 generous cup basil or dill, finely chopped

4 tablespoons/   1/4 cup parsley, finely chopped

1 1/2 kilos/  3 1/2 pounds small to medium red potatoes, peeled, halved and each half quartered

Place the eggs in a medium saucepan and cover with water. Bring to a boil, cover and turn off the heat. Let the eggs stand 10 minutes in hot water and then drain and cool.

Once cool, peel and separate the whites from yolks. Quarter the whites, and set aside; finely mash the yolks and set aside.

Whisk the mayonnaise, egg yolks, olive oil, vinegar, lime juice, mustard, sugar, salt, pepper and cayenne pepper together in a large bowl. Stir in the scallion, gherkins, basil and parsley, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate.

Place the potatoes in a large pot and cover with water. Bring the potatoes to a boil, add 1 tablespoon kosher or coarse sea salt, reduce heat to a medium simmer and cook until the potatoes are just tender about 15 to 20 minutes.

Drain and, while still warm, add to the dressing and toss to combine. Cover the bowl flush with plastic wrap and refrigerate until thoroughly chilled, at least 2 hours and up to 1 day in advance. Taste for seasoning and then gently fold in the egg whites and serve.

I know, I know, a few posts back, earlier in zucchini season, I posted a recipe for a sort of fritatta: shredded zucchini, eggs, cheese, baked in a pan, a sort of crustless pie. And it is delicious! wonderful! formidable! (pronounced with a french accent, just because doesn’t it sound lovely that way–and also because I got an A in my GCSE French exams).

So you would think: okay, one shredded zucchini, eggs and cheese dish should be enough for anyone’s repertoire, but no, apparently not……..last night I made this: baked ricotta with both shredded AND sliced zucchini. And while it is a little similar to the fritatta, based on eggs, cheese and zucchini, it is different enough for me to share this with you, too: the fritatta-like pie is a whole different thing to eat: flat, firm, with crisp edges and borders and crispy bits all over.  And this? its deep and airy, no crispness at all, a wobble-y mixture of both shredded and sliced zucchini, with the shredded cheese stirred into ricotta.  It emerges from the oven souffle-like, but sinks a bit and gets firmer as it does. Its good fresh and warm, but like the first recipe, the zucchini  fritatta, even better the next day at cool room temperature.

Delicious Fluff of Zucchini and Ricotta

Serves 4

4-6 zucchini: depending on their size

125g/4 oz whole milk ricotta, broken up with a fork

3 eggs

100g/3 1/2 oz shredded sharp white Cheddar, asiago, pecorino Romano, or a similar cheese

3-4 tablespoons coarsely chopped fresh basil

3-4 tablespoons self-rising flour

Pinch freshly ground black pepper

To bake: a deep baking dish, perferably ceramic, about 1 quart/1 litre/ 3-4 cups in volume, prepared by coating the inside with a little evoo, swirling it around, then sprinkling it with freshly grated Parmesan/pecorino/Grana Padano……

Take about 2/3 of the zucchini and grate over the large holes of a grater. Place in a strainer and toss with a few large pinches of kosher or large sea salt; flakes are excellent. Leave for about 15 minutes, lots of liquid will come out, squeeze several times to encourage it!

Slice the remaining zucchini very thinly, toss with a few pinches of salt and leave it also, to draw out the liquid and drain.

Beat the ricotta together with the eggs and stir in the shredded cheese, basil, flour and the drained shredded squeezed zucchini, black pepper to taste.

Pour into the prepared ceramic baking dish, cover with a tight fitting lid or with foil, and bake in a hmmmm…what temperature did i use? I’d say about 325. For about an hour. Having an oven that is temperamental and probably bears no relationship to yours means that you should test it this way: notice: is it puffed up? when you gently touch the top, is it firmish? soft but firmish? if so, its ready. Turn off oven, and keep lid on until you’re ready to eat.

Delicious hot or cold.

Pasta Mista con Zucchini Cacio Pepe!

Serves 2

Cacio pepe is: cheese and black pepper, one of the classic comfort dishes in Italy. Its sauce is creamy, but no cream is involved, the silkiness of the sauce is the result of cooking water–that magic ingredient–being tossed with the hot pasta and cheese.

Pasta mista is a mixture of different types of pasta: here I’ve used spaghetti and tiny macaroni. To be honest I had planned on spaghetti, but found only a small handful in my cupboard, and a small handful of macaroni as well. Like its origins in Italy’s cucina povera, or, the cuisine of the impoverished, which as we all know, can be the most imaginative of all, necessity being the mother and all that….anyhow, I grabbed both types of pasta. Interestingly: while pasta mista began life as a way of using up the small amounts of leftover dried pasta on one’s shelf, it is now sold packaged in chic shops (I just saw a lovely bag in Tuscany), the pasta sizes parcelled up together according to how long they take to cook.

Anyhow, while I was gathering my pasta, grating the cheese and pounding the peppercorns in the mortar and pestle, I gazed out the kitchen window onto the garden and my lone, magnificent, zucchini plant, with a few lovely green zucchini: small, tender and delicious, ready to be picked. The pasta was in the boiling water when I ran through the grass and the mud to gather them……

About 250 g/ 8 oz pasta: half spaghetti, have small macaroni

2-3 small zucchini from the garden, or 1-2 medium sized zucchini from the shops/market, very thinly sliced (though I cut some in batons as well as the slices, to see how that shape would work, note the picture)

Salt for pasta water

About 100 g/ 3 oz freshly grated dryish cheese such as pecorino, parmesan, asiago, grana padano,

Freshly crushed in a mortar and pestle, black peppercorns as desired

About 3 tablespoons evoo

Bring a large pot of water to the boil, salted with about a tablespoon of salt, then add the pasta; stir it through, and when it comes to the boil again, and starts to soften, ie about halfway to al dente, add the sliced zucchini. Cook together until the spaghetti is this side of al dente.

Drain, reserving about a cup of the cooking water.

In the hot pan, over a low heat, toss the pasta and zucchini with the cheese, evoo, and reserved cooking water, black pepper to taste. It will only be a minute or so, then onto hot plates and get your fork ready!