A is for Ajitsuke Tamago

This post is part of my Dishing Around Auckland: A - Z Challenge.

It's been a good few months since I decided I would set myself an A - Z Challenge for eating various dishes. I've been busy, of course, but A is not exactly an easy letter of the alphabet to start with either. The only dishes starting with A I could think of, which were not desserts, were things borrowed from other countries. I haven't yet tried an arepa in South America, so I am in no position to judge what I find here in Auckland. Instead, I have picked ajitsuke tamago, which is not really a dish, but an important component of one.

Ajitsuke tamago.

For those of you who have not come across the term before, it refers to the marinated egg which is often served with ramen. As I mentioned in my previous post on Japanese eggs, the yolk should be just beginning to set: a gooey centre which is translucent, but not runny. No matter how good the ramen might actually be, I am always a little disappointed if it is served with a fully boiled egg with a powdery yolk!

1) Tanpopo Ramen

At Tanpopo Ramen, you don't automatically get egg with your noodles. You have to order it as an extra, and it arrives as a whole egg, still chilled from the refrigerator. But do it, because it is good, as is their piping hot soup base, I might add!

Miso ramen with extra egg.

Presumably named after the 1985 movie "Tampopo", a Japanese comedy featuring ramen, this basic little store now also has a branch in Howick. Owner Michio trained the young couple running Little Ramen Bar in Melbourne as well.

2) Ramen Do

When Ramen Do opened in 2012, they made exactly the kind of fully boiled egg I complain about. You can still see pictures of them on their website. By the time I blogged about the eatery, however, they had learnt to make beautiful eggs, and were at the top of their game for the ramen too. Since then, I have heard consistently bad reviews for their short-lived city branch, and on our latest visit to their original Eden Terrace branch, the soup and noodles were unfortunately also disappointing.Their business card and street signage have been changed, so perhaps there are new owners?

Egg a little too underdone.

The eggs erred on the side of liquid yolks, but this is preferable to overcooked egg. I also liked the fact that you get half an egg by default with every ramen.

3) Ramen Takara

Ramen Takara is a bit further from the central city than the other places mentioned here: all the way in Browns Bay, but with the bonus of being near the beach.

Despite being more beautifully fitted out, and having plenty of choices in the menu (thick or thin noodles, unusual combinations like spicy black sesame, clearly marked gluten free and vegetarian alternatives), the egg we ordered was slightly overcooked, pale and powdery at the edges.

Spicy black tan-tan ramen, with extra egg.

Still, the centre of the egg was a beautiful vibrant orange. And we haven't eaten here enough times to know whether this was an anomaly.

4) Maruten Ramen

Maruten Ramen is only a little stall in the Mercury Plaza food court, but it has some restaurant level touches. For example:

• there's a choice of thick or thin homemade noodles for your ramen; you can also ask for the noodles to be cooked firmer or softer as you prefer
• they have smooth, round bamboo chopsticks, rather than the pull-apart disposable ones (never mind that even some high-end Japanese restaurants like Masu use pull-apart disposable chopsticks)
• the moyashi (bean sprout) ramen we ordered came with an unseasoned chicken broth, in case we needed to thin out the thick and salty soup base; they also gave us some vinegar to adjust the flavour to taste
• they gave us complimentary dessert (not sure if this is standard practice)!
• when we asked for a takeaway container, the chef said we could ask for more bean sprouts and less noodle next time
• they had Japanese comic books you can borrow, which we saw people reading on a couple of tables
• when we walked past on the way out of the food court, they saw us and called out to us

So what about the eggs? Some ramen varieties already come with half an egg, while others do not. However, you can always ask for an egg as an extra topping. In my previous meal, there was a bit of inconsistency with the doneness of the eggs. This time, the eggs were a bit too cooked at the edges. Not quite perfect, but much better than the fully boiled eggs at most other ramen eateries here.

Syo-yu ramen with extra egg.

---

Have you come across any other ramen shops with ajitsuke tamago? Or do you not care about the state of the egg if the rest of the dish is good?

[Added 10 June 2016: The newish Ramen Lab also has some good looking eggs]

Homemade Salted Eggs (and Some Uses For Them)

For some reason, I keep noticing eggs recently, even though it is not yet Easter. There was "the case of the mismatched eggs" at a Japanese eatery, and at a wedding I went to recently, I was treated to a custardy-soft 62 degree sous vide egg. I have also been running around the city, looking for the giant eggs in The Big Egg Hunt. So it makes sense that I should do something to do with eggs this month.

Golden egg with a bowl of ramen.

Actually, I had the idea of making my own Chinese salted eggs several months ago, which is why I can write about them now. Rather than using a fancier recipe with star anise, Sichuan peppers and Shaoxing wine, I found one that corresponded to what my parents told me they did: simply make a saturated salt water solution by adding salt to the water until it won't dissolve any more, put your raw eggs in, and leave them to soak for a month.

Boiled salted egg (left) and normal egg (right): not much difference on the outside, but the colour of the yolk and the texture of the white gives the game away.

Sounds easy, except that I put the raw salted eggs in the fridge after soaking, and promptly forgot about them... until now. I can't tell you if it was due to the time delay, or something else I did wrong, but what I made did not look anything like the beautiful creation below. When I cracked them open (admittedly months after they were ready), there was an undefined lump of golden orange, but mostly, the yolk had become combined with the white, turning everything into a thick orangey mess (not pictured to spare your sensibilities).

Beautiful salted egg (left) and normal egg (right), both raw.

Fortunately, my parents had also made salted eggs, and they turned out perfect, so I could carry on and make the things I wanted to try. I am also reminded of the time when we went on holiday, and our house-sitter threw out an entire batch of salted eggs (again gifted from my parents), no doubt after receiving a shock from seeing a solid yolk rather than the usual consistency.

Lau Sar Bao (流沙包), or Molten Custard Bun

One of the greatest recent dim sum inventions is the lau sar bao (流沙包), literally "flowing sand bun". Unlike the standard custard bun, this variation is generally made with salted egg yolks, and has a more liquid filling that flows out when hot (or in some cases, explodes in your mouth).

I basically followed the recipe from Bake for Happy Kids, while taking a few liberties such as just using milk instead of milk powder and coconut milk, due to what I had in the kitchen. As it was not specified how the salted egg yolks were to be cooked, I took (what I thought was) the easy path, and simply microwaved them. As you might have guessed, this was not the correct technique, as the yolks burst and splattered everywhere. For some reason, I didn't think this would happen because the raw yolks looked so solid.

Salted egg yolk: raw, microwaved, and cooked and broken up.

Because I had a very liquid filling (perhaps I should have replaced the missing milk powder with something else), some of my buns started leaking even before I began steaming them.

Steaming the buns.

They also didn't look very pretty, because the water droplets from the steam made little pockmarks on the surface of the buns.

My molten custard buns didn't have the right texture, with the bread too chewy (even though I deliberately purchased low gluten flour) and the filling too runny when hot, but the flavours were good.

Filling too liquid when hot.

The custard was a better texture once cooled to room temperature. I may need practice, but I am definitely keen to try this again!

Better consistency when cooled.

Egg White Fried Rice

There are plenty of recipes for using salted egg yolks, but not so many for using up the whites. I was tempted to chuck the leftover whites into some kind of egg drop soup, but as we had old rice in the fridge, we made fried rice with it instead. We mixed the salted egg whites with a bit of fresh egg in case everything was too salty, but we actually ended up adding some salt back in. Not that different in taste from standard fried rice, but using whites gives it a paler colour.

Fried rice with salted egg white.

Steamed Three Colour Egg (蒸三皇蛋)

Literally "steamed three emperor egg", this version of Chinese steamed eggs makes use of three different kinds of eggs: fresh eggs, salted eggs, and century eggs. Not only do the colours look amazing, but it tastes great too, with the fresh eggs mellowing out the other flavours.

Three colour eggs before steaming.

I thought I was clever for substituting some fresh eggs with salted egg white, but I forgot to add water to the mixture, so my custard was too firm. Still, we enjoyed this dish. It was a bit too salty, but was great with rice.

Three colour eggs after steaming.

Other Uses

Many Chinese families will eat slices of cooked salted egg with congee for breakfast, but if you wanted to cook with them, here are some other ideas.

Whole Salted Eggs

• Steamed Pork Mince with Salted Egg (咸蛋蒸猪肉)
• Stir-fried Spinach with Salted Eggs (金銀蛋菠菜)

Salted Egg Yolks

• Mooncake (月餅)
• Glutinous Rice Dumplings (粽子), or Joong
• Salted Egg Butter Prawns (黃金蝦碌) or Crab (咸蛋螃蟹)

Salted Egg Whites
These tend not so much to be dishes in themselves, but are modifications of recipes to use up the egg whites.

• Salted Egg White Tofu
• Chinese Egg Noodles

Enjoy!

This post is part of Our Growing Edge, a monthly blogging event aimed at inspiring us to try new things. This month, it is hosted by Medha from Mimi’s Mommy blog.

Recreating Perfection: Homemade Egg Tofu (自製蛋豆腐)

Whenever I have ordered a homemade tofu at a restaurant, be it at Bunga Raya, Homeworld, Grand Park or Bei Jing Restaurant, I have never been disappointed. Deep-fried to perfection, with a hot, smooth, and custardy centre, this comforting food brings joy to young and old alike. With only two main ingredients—soy milk and egg (even though the menus often don't mention the egg, opting for a more mysterious-sounding "chef's special tofu"), and an additional bit of seasoning—it turns out this dish is not even that hard to make.

Egg Tofu at Homeworld BBQ Restaurant.

There are a variety of recipes out there. For 500mL fresh soy milk, I have seen recipes using up to 7 eggs (I am not counting Elsie's recipe using 12, as she is really making savoury steamed egg custard rather than egg tofu), as well as some with as little as 2. Some add chicken stock powder, many add cornstarch, and you can make the tofu paler in colour by using more egg whites too (I was very impressed by how tender and smooth this tofu looked, and it seems to have steamed evenly all the way through, even though it is quite thick!)

While most recipes call for 6 eggs to 500mL soy milk, I decided to try out Amy Beh's recipe on Kuali.com, which only uses 5 eggs. The simple instructions looked like this:

500ml fresh unsweetened soya bean milk
5 eggs
3/4 tsp salt
1 tbsp cornflour

Line a 20cm square tray with cellophane paper or cling wrap.

Beat eggs lightly and add soya bean milk, salt and cornflour. Mix well with a fork and strain the mixture into the prepared tray.

Cover the tray with cling wrap and steam over low heat for 20 minutes or until cooked. Remove from the heat and leave to cool.

Naturally, I ignored the part about using cling film (eww, I don't want molten plastic on my food, thanks!) and just steamed the mixture in a little pot instead. At this point, I understood the mistakes I made. By not putting some sort of covering over the top (I would pick baking paper next time), I let a "skin" form on the surface.

Yellow film formed on top after steaming.

And by using a small steamer dish rather than the 20cm square tray specified, I ended up trying to cook a very tall piece of tofu. While the centre was perfect, the top was still runny, and the bottom had that honeycomb texture you see in overcooked egg. It was probably not helped by the fact that our gas stovetop doesn't really do low heat. Next time, I would also try steaming in a wok rather a Western-style steamer, so that the condensation on the lid does not drip onto the tofu.

Silky smooth after I poured away the liquid upper half.

Honeycomb texture on the bottom (now flipped to the top for viewing).

After cutting the refrigerated egg tofu into squares, I fried it in a wok, trying to simulate a deep-fryer effect by constantly spooning hot oil over the top. It didn't cook evenly, with the softer side puffing out more than the dryer side, but I didn't care about looks. Although I couldn't quite achieve a crispy outer shell, the centre of my egg tofu squares was everything I had wished for, soft and silky and delicious.

Homemade egg tofu, cut into squares and fried.

Impressively soft and silky centre.

Yes, there was an element of fail in my experiment. But nothing could keep me from the feeling of triumph that came with eating my fried egg tofu.

[Added 9 May 2015: I agree with a fellow blogger's recommendation to use less salt (thanks, Audrey!). Also, I found it heaps easier to make this using a square disposable cake pan, not only because I could cut it open without disturbing the tofu, but also because all my metal steaming dishes were round, which isn't so useful when you want to make squares!]

A Note on Soy Milk

You can make your own soy milk by soaking, blending, draining and boiling the beans. However, if you want to go for the easy option, purchase a bottle of unsweetened soy milk from your nearest Asian grocer. The ingredients listed should only be soy beans and water. Do not try to use the Western-style soy milk that has been processed to taste more palatable to those used to cow's milk. For instance, Vitasoy's "original" soy milk has been flavoured with barley, sugar, salt, oil and kelp, in addition to an unspecified natural flavouring. The So Good "regular" soy milk contains only 3.5% soy protein, and again has added sugar, oil, various minerals and vitamins, and flavouring.

The brand of soy milk I chose had this label. It came in a plastic milk bottle with a blue top, in the refrigerated section of the supermarket.

Chinese soy milk good for making egg tofu, amongst other things.

This post is part of Our Growing Edge, a monthly blogging event aimed at inspiring us to try new things. This month it is hosted by Alice from Nom Nom Cat.

Eggy Surprises

Easter Monday also happens to be April Fools Day this year.  My carton of jumbo free range eggs has been giving me a double-yolked surprise every time so far, but here are a couple of great ideas where you have control over the end result.

Scrambled Eggs in Whole Shell

The method shown in this video results in a scrambled egg with a completely intact shell.  All you need to mix up the insides is a long-sleeved T-shirt (or stocking) and some string or rubber bands.

Cook to your liking afterwards (not necessarily hard-boiled) and no one will suspect a thing at the breakfast table!

Cupcakes Baked in Egg Shells

The Delicious Days blog gives a method for baking in egg shells.  Other blogs use different types of cake, from a brownie filling to a red velvet one.

Brownie in egg shells from La Receta de la Felicidad.

The Cupcake Project blog has a variation which even has a "yolk" piped inside before baking.  You could also try injecting lemon curd afterwards, rather like a jam donut, but then you would have a little hole left in the cake. Potentially you could remove the egg shells and dip the egg-shaped cakes into white chocolate - then you could eat the whole thing, though admittedly it wouldn't look as realistic.

Cheesecake in Chocolate Eggs

Another dessert you could make to look like eggs is cheesecake in chocolate egg shells.  This does not require baking nor do you need real eggs (unless your favourite cheesecake recipe uses them).  I guess an unsuspecting recipient is not so much going to think this is an egg, as that the chocolate egg will be hollow.

Pudding with chocolate shell, from Gattina blog.

Doesn't it look fantastic?  And much more of a pleasant surprise than this.

---

Actually, we managed to play a completely unintended prank on our house-sitter a couple of years ago.  We had left a bowl of salted eggs sitting in our fridge.  If you have ever had these before, you will know that if you crack them open before they are cooked, the whites will look like normal whites, but the yolk will be a solid sphere with an almost orange colour.  I have no idea if our friend even tasted these before he threw the lot out.

What about you? Do you have any eggy April Fool's stories to tell?  Or do you have some tricks planned?

Tasting Tokyo: the Versatile Egg

Of all the ingredients I have ever cooked with, nothing is as commonplace yet as awe-inspiring as the egg.  Quick to prepare and equally good in both savoury and sweet dishes, it can transform from a thick fluid to a firm solid, or just as comfortably to a fluffy foam.  The way the clear white sets to an opaque colour is a wonder to behold, as is its contrast to the creamy golden yolk, which can change into a powdery sphere.

It is the basis of custards and souffles, and useful in glazes and sauces, but the egg is not just a delicious accompaniment to any meal.  It is a perfectly satisfying dish in its own right.  In Western breakfasts, you can have it poached, scrambled, boiled or fried.  In Chinese cuisine, you will see it steamed or preserved (think century eggs and salted eggs), or flavoured by steeping in tea.  You can even consume it raw, though more commonly with something else, for instance on steak tartare or bibimbap, or drink it in a cocktail.

Two types of Chinese preserved eggs from D.H. Supermarket: 無鉛松花皮蛋/无铅松花皮蛋 (wú qiān sōng huā pí​ dàn, "unleaded preserved egg", left) and  normal century egg, or 皮蛋 (pí​ dàn, right).

I thought I had seen all the different ways of preparing egg, until I came across Japanese cuisine.  (In the course of researching them though, I realised I have yet to try the Taiwanese iron eggs.  And those who prefer to play with their food would be interested in making naked eggs, unboiling an egg, writing secret messages on eggs, or performing other egg tricks.)

Seasoned Eggs, or ajitsuke tamago (味付け玉子)

Ajitsuke tamago, or "seasoned egg", are the eggs that are often served on ramen.  Various bloggers have also called them ramen eggs, molten eggs, or lava eggs.  The whites are firm, with a brown colour on the outside from being soaked in a soy bath, and the yolk is just beginning to set (at least this is the case with all the ones I have eaten, though there are many pictures online showing them with a slightly runny centre).  These are the most raved about eggs, because the first time you eat a proper one (which for me was actually in Hong Kong), the colour, flavour and texture just blows you away.  I could never go back to hard boiled eggs again, except maybe in a sandwich or salad.

The eggs are normally served neatly sliced in half lengthwise, but not in the case of this tsukemen specialist, where we bit into whole eggs.

Partially Boiled Eggs, or hanjuku tamago (半熟玉子)

Hanjuku tamago, or "half-cooked egg", are pretty much the same as ajitsuke tamago, except they are not necessarily seasoned.

Hanjuku tamago on a simple bowl of ramen.

Some dictionaries translate the term as "soft boiled eggs", but I've had soft boiled eggs in Singapore and Malaysia before, at those toast places where you serve them with soy sauce and white pepper.  Those eggs had runny yolks, and whites that were just coloured.  You could easily turn the whole thing into a puddle by stirring it.  As you can see, hanjuku eggs are not that soft.

For those who don't have the time or will to cook these at home, the convenience store also sells these eggs with perfect, translucent, orange centres!

Hanjuku egg from the local Seven-Eleven.

Not bad for a supermarket egg.

Hot Spring Eggs, or onsen tamago (温泉玉子)

Literally "hot spring egg", onsen eggs are cooked in their shell for a long time at a low temperature, so the white is the texture of a delicate, soft custard, while the yolk is beginning to firm.  Like a nature-given sous vide, I suppose, if you are actually making them in a hot pool.

This very soft boiled egg is a little less cooked than I expected.

Raw Eggs, or nama tamago (生玉子)

Raw eggs aren't new to me, of course.  But I included this because the first time we had a raw egg in Japan, it was a tiny quail egg served on soba.  The delicate yolk sat above what looked like egg white with a very strange texture indeed.

Soba with sweet tofu and what I thought was a very strange egg.

It was slimy, with solid white bits in between the sticky gloop.  Did the egg react with the broth somehow?  I wondered.  I tried reproducing it at home, but all I got was your usual poached egg.  I tried googling "lumpy egg white", "japanese raw egg", "raw egg on soba", you name it.  I ended up finding about a Japanese breakfast dish of raw egg stirred through rice, called tamago kake gohan (卵かけご飯, "egg sauce over rice"), but nothing about the strange texture of our egg white. I asked several Japanese friends, who had no idea what I was on about.  Finally, I sent the picture below through to an acquaintance.

Close-up of the "lumpy egg white".

The reason I couldn't find anything about it was because it wasn't egg at all!  The white bits were actually a root vegetable known as yamaimo (山芋, "mountain potato)", which includes many varieties of tuber.  Also called Chinese yam, it is used as the binding agent for okonomiyaki pancakes.  In grated form mixed with dashi (出汁), the way we had it, it is known as tororo (とろろ).  If you've ever had nattō (納豆, fermented soybeans), the texture of the grated yam was a bit like that.

Black Eggs, or kuro tamago (黒玉子)

Kuro tamago, or "black egg", seem to be mostly known as a specialty of Ōwakudani (大涌谷, "Great Boiling Valley"), a volcanic valley in Hakone, not far from Tokyo. The eggs are boiled in the hot pools on the northern slope of Mount Kamiyama, where on a clear day you have a gorgeous view of Mount Fuji. (Actually, you can also find kuro tamago elsewhere, for instance at Goshogake Onsen.) The minerals in the water turn the outsides of the shells a spectacular black colour. Martin Lersch of Khymos.org gives this explanation:

The black color is caused by hydrogen sulfide which reacts with iron from the hot spring to form iron sulfide which is deposited on the egg shell. This reaction does not occur in the hot spring due the low pH, but occurs on the egg shell which is primarily calcium carbonate. When left in the air the iron (II) sulfide is oxidized by oxygen in the air to iron (III) oxide. The sulfur ends up as either elemental sulfur or sulfur dioxide.

Unfortunately the pools at Ōwakudani have rather hot water (80°C) and they leave the eggs there for an hour, so they are well and truly cooked.  To me, they tasted no different from a normal hard-boiled egg. To help sales along, the enterprising shopkeepers not only include a little packet of salt in your paper bag (you can buy no fewer than five eggs at a time), but also claim that eating one of these eggs will extend your life by 7 years, eating two by 14!

The black eggs were, sadly, hard boiled.

Japanese Rolled Omelettes, or tamagoyaki (卵焼き)

On this trip, we came across the Japanese bento box staple of tamagoyaki, meaning "grilled egg", in the form of sushi.  Sometimes laid on top of rice, and sometimes just served as a block alongside other sushi, this neatly sliced omelette cake was generally soft and slightly sweet, and served cold.

Sushi with o-toro (fatty tuna belly) and tamago (egg).

If you are a perfectionist, it can take a long time to learn to make your tamagoyaki just right, even if you own a special rectangular pan for the purpose.  At Jiro Ono's three-Michelin starred restaurant, an apprentice had to make it 200 times before his omelette gained the chef's approval.

Other

We were in Japan for less that two weeks, so we didn't have time to eat everything we wanted to.  We didn't manage to sample omurice (オムライス omu-raisu), a modern Japanese invention using an omelette to wrap fried rice.  Nor did we have a steamed savoury egg custard known as chawanmushi (茶碗蒸し), literally "tea bowl steam", i.e. "steamed in a tea cup".  Fortunately, fine renditions of both of these are available in Auckland, for instance at Restaurant Morita.

Dumpster Diving: Economy or Nuisance?

A friend asked me the other day what he could do with lots of eggs, other than quiche, omelette, lemon curd and pavlova.
Me: How many eggs are we talking about?
Friend: Uh... about 400!

It turns out a friend's flatmate's friend (or something) had investigated one of those skips behind a supermarket, and brought back more than enough food.  Not just eggs (which by the way weren't expiring for another week), but also such perfectly edible items as sponge cakes and fruit (which was turned into kiwifruit jam in addition to lemon curd)

Now, I can see why a supermarket might struggle to sell eggs which are going to expire in a week, or fruits which are past their prime.  I can also see why they might not want to just give that food away to their hard-working employees and their friends.  Or why they might keep their skips locked and chase out those annoying types who want to poke around in them.  But it just seems plain wrong to throw out such quantities of perfectly acceptable items, when there are plenty of hungry people in our midst.  Surely it would make more sense to give the groceries away to one of those kitchens for the homeless?

Looks like the idea was being investigated last year.  But obviously there is still a mountain of comestibles being discarded for no good reason, and that makes me a sad panda.

In-Flight Poached Eggs - With Runny Yolks!

I don't know about you, but I had always assumed that eggs on planes had to be overcooked, rubbery omelettes.  Airlines can't risk somebody falling sick; surely everything had to be heated to a high temperature.  So when poached eggs were offered for breakfast on our Economy class Air New Zealand flight home from Tokyo, I was curious as to what it would be like.  Would it actually be a hard boiled egg in a different shape?  Slathered in sauce so you don't pay attention to the egg?

As it turns out, we had no choice but to order the poached eggs, since clearly all the other passengers had more faith in the salmon on rice. The potato wedges that came with the meal were, as you might expect, sad and soggy, and the baked beans tasted more of thyme than tomato, but—wonders of wonders—the poached eggs (yes, covered in hollandaise sauce) oozed out a beautiful golden yolk when you cut them open. How on earth did they manage that?

Poached eggs on toast - on a plane!

Admittedly, the eggs were strangely flat and round, the whites had a funny texture, and the sauce looked less than picture-perfect because half of it stuck to the tin-foil covering for the meal, but we couldn't fault the yolks.  Together with the sweet toast bread and the processed frankfurter-like sausage, this could easily have been served in any number of Japanese Western-style restaurants.

According to the World Food Safety Guidelines for Airline Catering, as set out by the International Flight Services Association, the minimum required core temperature for unpasteurised eggs is 74°C / 165°F. Harold McGee tells us in his book On Food and Cooking: the Science and Lore of the Kitchen that eggs can be pasteurised "by careful heating to temperatures between 130 and 140°F/55-60°C".  A helpful table on khymos.org, provided by Martin Lersch, a Norwegian research scientist with a PhD in organometallic chemistry, shows that egg yolks would still be runny at this lower temperature:

Temperature / °C	Egg white	Egg yolk
62	Begins to set, runny	Liquid
64	Partly set, runny	Begins to set
66	Largely set, still runny	Soft solid
70	Tender solid	Soft solid, waxy
80	Firm	Firm
90	Rubbery solid	Crumbly texture

Poached eggs in airline meals are not as rare as I had thought though.  Singapore Airlines even offers them (pictured with runny yolks) in their meals for young passengers aged between 2 and 11 years.  However, Melissa's Flight Attendant Blog advises that you should avoid them if you possibly can: "Soft poached will almost always turn hard poached on board and it takes a galley operator with true skill and lots of experience (and properly working ovens) to have both a hot dish and a runny yolk."

I am not sure why airlines don't serve stews more often, as that would be a lot more tolerant of re-heating and dry conditions.  If I had to have eggs on a plane though, poached eggs with runny yolks would be it.

D. H. Supermarket (大華超市), Mount Eden (or Eggy Experiences)

I've already waxed lyrical about the Avondale Sunday Market, but on other days, or if I don't want to venture so far for fresh and inexpensive vegetables, I head to the D. H. Supermarket (also called Dahua), a Chinese supermarket which was formerly Silver Bell.  The specials they have at the moment, for instance, are two (that's 2) small watermelons for 99c (!!! - we tried them and they were juicy and sweet too), and gala apples for 49c a kilogram!  The place is not as big and clean as the Tai Ping quite a bit up the road in Mount Roskill, but you can pick up some good bargains and they even accept credit cards for payments over something like $20.

Shelf of Asian vegetables, close to closing time.

Like other Chinese supermarkets, they have a separate meat and fish section, and you can buy groceries from other Asian cuisines like Korean and Japanese as well.  There is also a separate room for the grains and another for the alcohol (this is where you look for the Chinese cooking wine).  By the back entrance leading to the small carpark, there are mini shops within the supermarket, selling things like roast meat and Chinese street food, where you pay separately from the main supermarket cashier.

A nameless shop within the supermarket, selling such items as fried bread sticks (yóu tiáo, 油條) and sweet and savoury stuffed glutinous rice packets wrapped in bamboo leaves (zòng ​zi, 粽子).

Make sure you check what you are buying, because something which is being discounted may be expired or about to expire, and turn up early to avoid the crowds, get the best pick of produce, and perhaps breakfast on a Chinese crepe.

Highlight: Jianbing or Chinese Crepe (jiān​ bing guǒ​ zi, 煎餅果子)

[Added 4 August 2013: Sadly, this stall disappeared some time ago now.]

You go to D. H. Supermarket for your fresh vegies, mainly, but I also like the jianbing I had from one of the nameless shops there the other day.  I first ate one of these Chinese crepes at the Taiwan Cultural and Traditional Games Festival (see my previous post for a video of this being made) and have been on the lookout for it ever since.  Basically a very thin pancake with an egg cracked into it, in this case wrapping two squares of crunchy wonton wrapper, brushed with hoisin and chilli sauce, and garnished with spring onions and black sesame seeds, it is the perfect mix of sweet and savoury, softness and crunch.

A half-eaten jianbing.

Eat it immediately, while it is hot and the cracker still crisp.  Well, maybe exit the supermarket first, but don't dilly-dally.  It is such a delicious and filling meal for only $4.50 ($5 if you get it with soymilk as a combo).  The sign for the jianbing shows a photo of a multitude of grains that presumably went into the batter, so I guess you can claim it is healthy as well.

My only reservation was to do with hygiene, but I have the same concerns when I go to an icecream store and see the scoops sitting in a container of murky water.  Let me assure you that there were no unfortunate consequences to my breakfast (other than an overly full belly), and in any case, the thing is cooked for a good few minutes.

To order, point to the menu item labelled "Pan-fried roll", or look for a photo which includes an egg in it, at the stall pictured above.  A1 is currently the variety with a fried bread stick inside, while A2 is the option with the crispy wonton wrapper.  You will also be asked whether you want it spicy.  You do, because that chilli sauce is lovely.

I have seen jianbing for sale at the Pakuranga Night Market as well, but this place at D. H. Supermarket is closer and available daily.  I am tempted to say it is also more delicious, but I would have to go to the night market to verify.  In any case, I really enjoyed my crepe here.  Give it a go, even if it is weird ordering hot food from a supermarket stall.

Highlight: Eggs, Wondrous Eggs

Another great thing about D. H. Supermarket is the variety of eggs they sell.  I have seen fresh goose, duck and quail eggs here, in addition to the usual chicken variety, including free range chicken eggs.  The more exotic eggs aren't cheap, but I do an internal happy dance every time I find something novel for sale.

Fresh goose eggs for sale, when in season.

Being a Chinese supermarket, preserved or century eggs are also available.  There are two types for sale, one with what looks like a coating of clay and rice husk, and another with a smooth, blue-greyish shell.  I am not sure yet if are any flavour differences, but I will find out and let you know.

Quail eggs and two sorts of preserved eggs.

Unfortunately, they didn't appear to have any salted eggs on my last visit, which led me to purchase some  "fresh" duck eggs instead...

Lowlight: Exploding Rotten Duck Egg

What you want to do is to buy the things that everyone else buys, which are replaced regularly.  Those Asian greens are fantastic.  Avoid the things which look like they have been sitting there for a while, like the duck eggs in the fridge, which I have seen the last few times I went to the shop, but finally decided to try anyway.  I thought they were dodgy looking, the last four in the same tray for the past few weeks or longer, but there were no salted eggs for sale, and I had the idea that I would make my own.

The fact that the cashier had to leave the counter to check the price of them should have been ample warning, but I bought my duck eggs anyway.  They felt well chilled; what could be wrong?  I discovered the answer when I sat down in the car.  Just as we were about to drive home, there was a sound like a gunshot.  Something wet hit my face and the horrible sulphurous smell of rotten egg spread through the car.

The case of the exploding egg.

So there you have it.  There's good and there's bad, not to mention plenty of eggs-citement to be had at your local D. H. Supermarket.

Store Details

D. H. Supermarket (大華超市)
83 Dominion Road, Mount Eden, Auckland
(09) 630 2900

Opening hours:
Mondays to Sundays 9am - 7pm (inner shops close 6:30pm)

D. H. Supermarket is at the city end of Dominion Road.

View Nom Nom Panda in a larger map

Avondale Sunday Market

The weather may be all up and down these days, but it's been feeling more and more like summer. I've discovered all sorts of interesting produce for sale too. At Tai Ping on Dominion Road the other day, they had cherimoyas and passionfruit on display. It's not every day that you see these fruits around, but I have enjoyed them in Auckland before. No, what I was really excited by was what we have been searching for for years: an authentic Vietnamese phở, with a mountain of leaves served on the side, or failing that, then at least the right herbs, so we could make our own.

I've already given up on the former.  I have never found a Vietnamese eatery here which provides the requisite quantities of the more commonly available bean sprouts, coriander, mint and lime wedges, not to mention the delicious garnish of fried shallots and of fresh red chilli slices.  I've seen Thai basil for sale at garden centres, but the more exotic herbs like sawtooth coriander (also called culantro, distinct from cilantro/coriander)?  I didn't have a clue where to begin.  That is, until a search for galangal (which I have still yet to find in Auckland) led me to the Avondale Sunday Market.  There, amongst the young bitter melon and snake bean plants, next to the holy basil, I came across the perilla with its distinctive purple underside, as well as the long spiky leaves of the sawtooth coriander.  Hooray!

Vietnamese herbs like sawtooth coriander (a.k.a. culantro) and red perilla were available

Actually, I had walked right past this stall the previous week, and only paid attention to it at the Otara Market on Saturday because there were fewer things competing for my attention.  Seriously, for sheer variety and market atmosphere (read: crowds), nothing beats the Avondale Sunday Market.

It's not one of those markets where you go to eat, not unless you are into deep fried hot dogs and the like, though you can certainly choose to sample pre-made Asian food like taro sticky rice rolls wrapped in banana leaf, if you are not worried about moist food stored at room temperature.  You also need to shuffle your way past the stands selling Korean socks, cheap underwear and second hand goods, before you reach the vegetable section.  But once you get there, what a reward!  Here are some things that piqued my interest.

Banana trunks and artichokes

Three kinds of eggplant

Green papaya

Fresh longans

Not sure, black sugarcane and burdock root

Relatively cheap tomatoes (to think they were briefly sold for $12.99/kg at Countdown earlier this year!)

Possibly arrowroot and Jerusalem artichoke

Goose and duck eggs

Gorgeous flowers

Try to get there early, for the best selection of produce and to avoid the worst of the crowds, and don't forget to bring cash!

Market Details

Avondale Sunday Market
Avondale Racecourse, Ash Street, Avondale

Market hours:
Sundays 6am - 12pm

View Nom Nom Panda in a larger map