Wet hair and sand everywhere. That’s my earliest memory associated with eating this dish of “Pig’s Trotter Beehoon”. And one of my happiest too because it was during the time when I a kid (yes, dinosaurs roamed the earth then 😆), and an activity we use to do as a family was to drive to Changi Point to have a splash-around in the sea followed by a picnic.
Now, our picnic was by no means anything like the red-checkered cloth and wicker basket filled with neat triangles of sandwiches seen in picture books. Instead, my brothers and I would be standing or squatting on the sandy shore, wrapped in towels, dripping wet in our swimsuits as we wolfed down the still-hot noodles my grandmother or mum had cooked just before leaving home. I recall tightly clutching my flimsy paper plate, heaped with beehoon forked from the pot we lugged along because I didn’t want the sea breeze to carry off the divine deliciousness.
Every strand of the fragrant, slightly sticky-with-collagen goodness was precious, and whenever I found a big piece of pigskin, it felt like I hit the jackpot (fun fact: our family only used the “Ma Ling” brand of pig’s trotter that came in a yellow can). Eating the dish with sliced red chillies in soya sauce was mandatory because well, it tasted great. Moreover during that decade, the whole “eat less sodium” message hadn’t reached us yet. Ah... those were such carefree days.
Back to the present. When I tucked into the “Pig’s Trotter Beehoon” at #twochefseatingplace, I had a major flashback. As tasty as their rendition was, I couldn’t help but think of how having a sky above, sand below and being wet and slightly cold made this simple dish all the more amazing. #noshtalgia