In The Kitchen With Elizabeth Haig
Elizabeth Haigh's cooking draws on her Singaporean heritage and her early training in architecture. She talks about the influence of both on her food, cooking with her children, and shares her recipe for crispy soy and ginger chicken thighs cooked in a cast iron skillet.
Yeah, a lot of the same principles carry over. Layering, tasting as you go, purposefully leaving something out, negative space on the plate. That all comes from how you're taught to look at things in architecture. But honestly the biggest thing I took from it wasn't visual at all, it was project and people management. That's a whole skill in hospitality that nobody really teaches you. You just sort of pick it up on the job and hope you get it right. So having that grounding before I ever ran a kitchen, knowing how to manage a project, manage people, keep all the moving parts going, that's probably shaped me more than anything to do with how a plate looks.
Honestly? Start with a good sambal. I'd say grab a jar of my Sambal Manis rather than trying to make one from scratch. A proper sambal takes time and a lot of trial and error to get the balance right, so let me do that bit for you! Once you've got a sambal you trust, so much opens up. It's sweet and savoury and it works on almost anything, spoon it over rice, eggs, grilled chicken, noodles, whatever you fancy. Get your pantry sorted around it too, a good light and dark soy and some white pepper, and start with one dish you already love rather than trying to learn everything at once. Kaya toast is another lovely easy win once you're in the swing of it. Toast, butter, kaya, soft eggs, a bit of white pepper and soy. Ten minutes and you're there.
They have, actually, and I love it. They've really taken an interest. Riley even recorded his own little YouTube episode making a chicken curry, completely his own thing, and he's a total natural at it. What I care about most is keeping it fun. I never want cooking to feel like a chore for them, so I always encourage them to get stuck in, even when, hand on heart, that tests my patience after a long shift in the kitchen. But that's the bit that matters. If they grow up thinking the kitchen is a happy place to be, the rest follows.
Probably a steak and chips. Simple, classic, and you can change up the sauce to keep it interesting so it never gets boring. I don't think much beats a really great crusty, medium-rare steak with a fresh salad straight from the garden. It's a treat, but because I train a lot in the gym it also feels properly nourishing, good for the body and good for the soul.
I'd go with crispy soy and ginger chicken thighs, all in one skillet. It's hard to get wrong and it suits a cast iron pan beautifully.
The trick is to pat the skin really dry, season it, then lay the thighs skin-side down in a cold pan and only then turn the heat to medium. Starting cold renders the fat slowly and gives you proper crackly skin.
Don't be scared of it, that's the main thing. People treat these pans like they're fragile and they're really the opposite, they're built to outlive you.
Just never let it sit wet. Rinse it, dry it straight back on the hob over a low heat so every drop goes, then wipe a little neutral oil round the inside while it's still warm. That's basically the whole ritual. A bit of washing up liquid is fine too, by the way. The old "never use soap" rule comes from the harsh soaps of years ago, and a small amount of modern soap won't strip a well-seasoned pan, though plenty of cooks still swear by going soap-free and that's fair enough, it's a bit personal.
The best maintenance is just cooking in it. Fatty, happy things like those chicken thighs are seasoning the pan for you every time. Go a bit easy on long acidic simmers, lots of tomato or lemon or vinegar, while it's still young, since they can lift the seasoning before it's properly settled. And if it ever looks dull or sticky, it's not ruined, it never is. A quick re-season brings it straight back. These pans are meant to be passed down, which is sort of the whole point of them, and I can't wait for my sons to enjoy theirs.