My sense memory of soy eggs or lǔ dàn is connected to my mother, where the eggs were included as part of a larger troupe of pork belly and sauce called Kong Tau Yew Bak. I guess people routinely eat eggs like this as part of ramen also, or cold noodles or Kimchi. Something to contend the fatty, rich saltiness. I don’t need this balance, please give me the pure satiating ovoid.
I usually boil eggs for no more than 7 minutes, which I think is probably too gooey for most people but I lean on that side when it comes to the jam-like texture you can achieve with egg yolks. If your eggs are straight out of the fridge 7 minutes is ideal for this, if you keep your eggs in the pantry like an early 1800s French peasant then maybe 6 minutes. The ice bath stops the cooking process and also in a minimal but noticeable way shrinks the egg away from the shell to make them easier to peel.
For the marinade I used equal parts dark and light soy, a dash of fish sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, shaoxing wine, honey, oyster sauce, monk fruit sweetener, msg, white pepper and salt. I also diced half an onion, a chilli, a thumb of ginger, some spring onion and garlic. The marinade is hinged on the quality of the soy sauces. There is no reason to buy Coles brand soy sauce at any point in your life. A visit to an asian grocer will summon a wall of various brands that per the mL are generally cheaper than the sewage stocked in major supermarkets. After experimenting with different bottles you will find that mostly anything with only an English typeface is cannon fodder. Light soy is made from an earlier pressing of fermented soy bean and is more of a ubiquitous seasoning whereas dark soy is sweeter and less salty with a deeper flavour. I presume what people observe at expensive restaurants is that the depth of flavour not only comes from wok hei and technique, but from high quality soy sauces. It's an inexpensive way to make food taste better.
Kale chips are another MVP in our household. I’m certain dehydrating kale robs the leaf of all nutrients but texture is important. I like soft stewy kale also, along with raw kale. It's actually common for me to use kale in a dish in multiple ways so you get the full frequency spectrum of kale, not necessary today. You have to wash cruciferous vegetables which is also an excuse to bruise the leaves. I feel that this helps water escape which is the goal of cooking: removing water content to strengthen flavour and texture. I cut the kale into smaller pieces and rubbed with salt, pepper, good oil and of course sumac in powdered form. Sumac is a world spirit. A deity. The undisputed king of spice. The Richard Lloyd of seasoning. Chuck what you think is needed in, then double it. Scrunch the leaves in your hands to amalgamate all the seasoning and spread out thin on a pan sheet to bake at the lowest temperature that you can handle waiting for. Too much heat and they will cook rather than dehydrate.
Rice must always be washed lest we disturb the Gods. Not once, not twice but thrice. I also used the ancient and conclusive fingernail method for cooking rice. If you want perfectly textured rice, find the right water to rice ratio by allowing the water to only reach the proximal nail fold of your finger. This is the way it has always been and always will be. I don’t know how physics are transcended with larger fingers, but it always turns out perfect.
I finished the bowl off with roasted sesame seeds, furikake and chilli oil. Proof of this meal's merit is that my partner wasn’t hungry at all, but proceeded to eat it like one does in a tourney.
