Teochew Pork Porridge

20 years after my father passed away, my sister-in-law still talks fondly about his Teochew (潮州) Pork Porridge (肉糜). That's how good it was. There was a period when he made Pork Porridge every night for supper and my sister-in-law, who lived across the road, would wander over for a bowl, sometimes two. I don't have many food memories of Father because he didn't cook much but this is one that I recall fondly.

The quick way for making Pork Porridge is to add stock to cooked rice, toss in some pork slices and seasoning, and garnish. Father never did it that way, though. In fact, adding stock or soup to steamed rice had some kind of stigma in my family because it was always associated with someone sulking. For instance, if I were late for dinner and there was very little food left, I would slurp down some soup and rice, then go to my room and sulk. Or, if I had a fight with Mum and I wanted to protest by not eating but couldn't because I was starving, I would slurp down some soup and rice, then go to my room and sulk. So, adding stock to cooked rice as a shortcut was unthinkable and a definite no-no in my family. It was something that we looked on with disdain.
Father made Pork Porridge by boiling uncooked rice with dried shrimps. Done this way, the umaminess of the dried shrimps and subtle fragrance of the rice have time to mingle and come together. Some Chinese dried mushrooms, soaked and thinly sliced, could also be added but he rarely bothered. What he did bother with was to leave the TV program he was watching and stir the furiously boiling rice and dried shrimps once every five minutes or so. One day, I will test what difference the stirring makes but for the time being, let's take it that stirring was essential, shall we?
After boiling the porridge for about 15 minutes, Father chucked some pork that had been marinating into the pot, brought everything back to a boil, turned off the heat, tossed in some dried cuttlefish and the water it had been soaking in, garnish generously with scallions and fried shallots, add a dash of white pepper and - voilà! - it was done. My sister-in-law turned up like magic every night for this steaming hot pork porridge that was stirred, not shaken.