Something strange has happened to the loaf that was so good you could apparently eat it on its own! I used to use it for croutons at home, as the rather high sugar content made for a yummy and lasting fried crust. I would to stack the stuff up three slices high and then just cut it with a knife and separate the dice. NO MORE! The scientists (mad, no doubt) at the loaf that dare not speak its name have softened the texture of the thing to absolute vanishing point. If you cut the three slices now, or even just give them a weighty look, they compress to a sheet so thin and inseparable, it can only be explained by the advent of nanotechnology.

The only other explanation: The loaf does not actually exist at all. It is merely a loaf shaped plastic bag filled with the idea of bread, sent directly to neurotransmitters in the brain. Is that the reason why you can eat as much of it as you like and still never feel satiated? Because in fact, you’re not really eating anything!!! It’s scary.

What’s even scarier is that this thing that doesn’t exist has the same calories as real bread. Remember real bread? Two slices and a sliver of cheese used to make you feel full for hours? Coal miners used to take two or three sandwiches down the pit and it would sustain them through to their supper. What has happened to real bread? Did it disappear when the last local baker got eaten up by the big bread factory? The other question is: Do people actually like this type of bread without substance or flavour? And if so, who ARE these people?? And why are they making my bread a misery???

What brought us to the bread that isn’t? Is there really a demand for a supersoft loaf (other than from the decrepit and the dentally handicapped) or is this demand created by the bread industry for nefarious reasons? All our Frangipani customers (except one) tell us how much they enjoy our comparatively dense bread made simply of flour water and yeast (one tablespoon each of salt and sugar are added for flavour and to feed the yeast), so can the same people really go home and eat the imaginary loaf with relish? I don’t think so. Granted, a real loaf will be a little more expensive, but then you will need a lot less of it.

Your task for today is to go out and seek a real loaf. The crust should be crunchy, the crumb should be dense, but not gluey, and you should NOT be able to compress the whole loaf into a lump the size of a golf ball!

One thing I really like about Sunday mornings is the deserted streets. Most of the time, you have the whole width and breadth of jalan Ampang to yourself. Wind down the window, breathe the fresh KL air, enjoy the fact that it’s not yet 45° in the shade and cruise along at leisure. Well, almost… This morning, as I was waiting at the traffic lights, where Ampang crosses Tun Razak, a souped-up Proton drew up next to me, its engine revving, its exhaust thundering impressively (especially considering that this car is propelled by a 1.2l engine). This Super Proton was rocking back and forth, the driver too nervous and too geared up to apply the brakes, impatient to shoot forward, down Jln Ampang at breakneck speed… As the car inched onto the pedestrian crossing (hey, we don’t really have pedestrians in KL anyway, do we? Do we??), I looked across.

And here, dear friends, allow me to digress just a little. We all have a bit of a racist streak in us, so most of you will already be thinking of one race or another, piling on the stereotypes and the penile shortcomings (for one thing is certain, this is not going to be a girl!), but let me tell you: When it comes to souping up miniscule cars and driving them like a pocket-sized Schumacher, One Malaysia has truly been achieved!

But that was not the point. As I gazed across, happily content on the after-effects of half a Xanax the night before, I saw that the guy was about sixty-five years old. Now that was a shock! I mean, to be 25, even 30 and to dress your Kancil up like a Dinky Toy Lamborghini is one thing, but to be doing it when you should be pottering in the garden after finishing the Times crossword puzzle is quite another. Just driving around in the thing, I could understand. He might have borrowed it from his no-good, sure-to-end-up-in-jail son after his Avanza broke down, but here the pathetic twit (replace letter if you like) was proudly showing off his illegal, third rate body kit, behaving like he was at Le Mans, it was ridiculous!

Just as I was thinking these mature thoughts, the lights changed to green and I had just enough time to switch my gear to manual, floor the accelerator and shoot past the guy with my tyres screaming, pathetic loser that he was…

After years And years of daily gym visits I have at last figures out the secret to great looking abs (see picture for proof). Well, they’re not actually my abs, but I’m convinced they could be. Mine are actually not bad, though a good deal hairier than those pictured. It’s not exactly a six-pack, more like a three and a half pack, but hey, you take what you get.

The other day, I was driving down the road, studiously avoiding public transport and when I stopped at a red light (very unlike some of said public transport), there was a bus standing beside me. I’m not normally shocked by the sight of dilapidation, in fact, I quite like a spot of squalor every now and again, but this!!! was something else. There was recently talk of making everyone get their old cars tested for roadworthiness, so I wondered how this sad excuse for a bus would have fared.

Here’s my question: Can we really not do better than this?? Let’s wash the twin towers just every second time, let’s plant shrubs instead flowers along the roads, let’s charge ten cent more for every highway (if we must) and let’s use the money to change the public transport system from a disintegrating one to one that you might actually want to use even though you have the money for a motorbike (or even a car).

Chips without salt? Low sodium ham? We need it and I for one love it and I don’t care if it sends me to the grave a day and a half early. (Oops, not supposed to say that on CNY) So let’s talk about salting. A very strange fashion for under-salting has been creeping into the profession in Malaysia and the excuse for it is and always has been: They can add salt if they want more. Better not to have the three people complain who love bread to taste metallic (yes, that’s where that taste comes from: Lack of salt), steak to be dull and fish to be bland and to leave the rest of us true eaters desperately over-salting the outer layers of our food in a vain attempt to impart any notion of flavour.

For here’s the rub: If you haven’t salted before (and during) cooking, it just won’t taste the same. Trust me, I’m a cook. Salt on top of fried meat is just that: Salt on top. It does NOT penetrate into the meat and you will most probably be eating more of it, because of that. So advice: A nice, even sprinkling of salt on both sides of the steak a minute or two before it goes into the pan, oven, grill… And what about the claims that salting too long before cooking will dry out the meat?? Nonsense, I’m afraid. And for once, you don’t have to take it from me, check Harold McGee’s most eminent, empirically reliable book.

There is one exception to my early salting advice and that concerns the skin side of fish. Salt the meat side first, then turn your fish skin side up and let it wait until the oil in your pan starts to smoke. Now blot the skin dry and then salt about twice as much as you salted the meat (careful here, consider the thickness of the fish, don’t overdo it). Skin side down into the pan until you can see the sides turn brown. Might be a good idea to lift the fish up about halfway through, to let more oil under the thing. Result: Crisp, very tasty skin. Turn fish around and just lightly brown the meat side. It’s the residual heat that should finish the cooking, if you want the fish to be moist. So undercook and then rest a minute or two before serving.

Next up: Vegetables! Even just saying: “Boiled Vegetables” might send you fleeing from the kitchen, but that does not have to be so. Here’s the secret to great looking, great tasting vegetables (sounds a bit like an American ad). Your boiling water needs to be as salty as the sea. Unless you’ve recently swallow a gulp of seawater you will probably get this wrong: The sea is VERY salty. Every litre has on average 35g of salt in it. That, my friends, is a hell of a lot. Go try mix up a batch and you’ll see. And this exactly is what I want you to cook your vegetables in. BUT…and this is a great big mid-western but: Only if you intend to ice water bathe them after cooking (and you really, truly, absolutely should).

Recipe: Prepare a very large batch of seawater and bring it to the boil. Have your veg ready to take the plunge and drop them in when the boil is roiling. Have an ice bath with lots of ice ready on the side. Your veg should be freely flying around in the water. Don’t crowd them in a tiny pot. As soon as they are at the doneness you want them to be, fish them out of the brine and drop them into the ice. Stir them around in there until they are cold to the core. Take out and reserve. When needed toss in butter or oil or whatever else you may fancy, or serve them cold. In fact if you cook asparagus in this way, your friends will ask you why theirs never taste  as nice as these. And the secret was: SALT.