Happy Belly on Eat: Carving out a meal

Home economics was one of my best subjects in secondary school. I even considered taking Food and Nutrition at O-levels at one point. But tell any of my friends that, and they snicker. Tell them that I also knit and crochet, and they dissolve into a laughing fit. It's like imagining Xena the warrior being warm and fuzzy, a friend chortled. Thank you very much.

In any case, my budding culinary abilities were curtailed very early on because my mother, being a homemaker, is also the empress dowager of the kitchen. Meaning that while I was always well-fed, I was never allowed to experiment in the kitchen. So by the time I came to Thailand, all I could do was cook instant noodles and fry an egg. No, I didn't know how to cook rice. Neither did I know how to use the washing machine. But since I had my own apartment and there was no one waiting to pounce on me for dirtying the kitchen, I started cooking again.

My little pantry kitchenette.

Then I discovered the joy of entertaining, of having people come over for dinner -- a ready bunch of willing guinea pigs to try out my concoctions. But because they were dinner guests, I tried to make sure everything look nice. So the table was properly laid out, (wine) glasses in place. And I always remembered to wipe the gravy stains off the edge of the plates (a lesson drilled into me from Home Economics classes). But that was the furthest I would go in food presentation.

After staying in Bangkok for a few years, it occurred to me that food presentation was more than just wiping gravy off the plate. The Thais are the best when it comes to beautiful presentation of food. Even the roadside stalls make sure they prepare the food in such a way that it looks appetising. Perhaps it's just not food, but this importance of looking good permeates everything in society -- physical appearance, studies, work -- giving rise to a Thai proverb ผักชีโรยหน้า, literally "coriander sprinkled on top", which means window-dressing.

Parsley/coriander

The first time I learnt this proverb was during my masters in the university here. We were handing in a term paper and I had mine printed out, stapled on the top left-hand corner. My Thai classmates had got theirs ring-bound, complete with a full-colour cover and protective plastic sheets. They told me that by "sprinkling parsley/coriander on top", they were hoping the paper would look so good that the lecturer would not realise that there wasn't really much substance inside.

But coriander or spring onion aside, the Thai's masterful presentation of food got me interested in fruit and vegetable carving. Now, if the idea of me wielding knitting needles is laughable enough, you're going to go LMAO at the idea of me demurely carving watermelons and what-not. The tradition of fruit and vegetable carving in Thailand apparently originated in 1364 when Lady Nang Nopphamat, who was the chief royal consort, decorated her floating lamp (krathong) with a profusion of flowers and birds, swans, rabbits and many other animals carved from fruits and vegetables. King Phra Ruang was reportedly so impressed by it that he decreed it would be Thailand's art heritage. Since then, fruit and vegetable carving was always an art of the palace, practised only by ladies of royalty and nobility. In 1932 with the change in the form of government, this art form was taught in schools for people of all classes.

Traditional palace art

Eager to join the ranks of, ahem, royalty and nobility, I went out to buy a book on the subject and some knives, and promptly started to teach myself how to carve. Hmm… that dolphin watermelon basket looks really cool, but I really should start with something easier first. So I began with the carrot flower, since it looked idiot proof enough. Then you begin to realise that these picture books, while good, are not good enough. Sure, they have a photo for Step 1, Step 2 and so on. But there were no photos for Steps 1a, 1b or 1c. So your carrot looks one way in Step 1 but looks completely different in Step 2 and you're left wondering how to get from Step 1 to Step 2.

My book

My tools

After some trial and error and ending up with a passable carrot flower, I decided to push the limits with a carrot leaf. This almost stumped me. Either my fingers were too fat or the carving knife was being clumsy (I blame the latter!), but I somehow couldn't bring out the gentle curves of a leaf.

My first attempt.

My one leaf

One day, I decided I was ready to up my game in food presentation. So I issued the invitations and set about preparing my menu of chicken breast stuffed with mushrooms sauteed in garlic and black pepper, served with home-made mash and, guess what, carved veggies! It took me nine hours, counting from the time I went to the market to the time dinner was served, mainly because the carving took a longer time than expected (and I again blame the knife for that).

Nine hours of preparation consumed in under an hour. I think I'll go back to wiping gravy stains off the plate.

The nine-hour meal

My final attempt at fruit and vegetable carving -- A Chinese cabbage rose

Some photos are taken from the Internet.