The art of using every part: 6 traditional Asian ingredients that reduce food waste
In many Asian households, resourcefulness isn't a trend—it's a way of life. Plastic bags are folded for reuse, takeout containers are repurposed and ingredients are stretched to their last edible fibre. This ingrained ethos of minimising food waste has been passed down through generations, and is evident in how traditional recipes embrace and elevate parts of produce that others often discard.
Asian cooks have mastered the art of transforming food waste into culinary gold long before sustainability became fashionable
What may look like an inedible trunk is, in fact, a fibre-rich treasure. The tender core of the banana stem—found by peeling away the outer layers of the pseudostem—is a versatile ingredient used in many Southeast Asian dishes.
In India, banana stem transforms into kosambari, a refreshing salad that showcases the ingredient's raw crunch. Thai kitchens incorporate it into curries and sweet and sour vegetable soups. In Myanmar, it's simmered in mohinga, the country's beloved fish noodle soup where tender pieces of stem add substance and soak up the rich, aromatic broth.
Equally celebrated is the banana 'heart'—the purple, cone-shaped flower that grows at the end of the banana fruit cluster. Known as 'puso ng saging' in the Philippines, it's sautéed with garlic and vinegar or turned into fritters and stews. In Thai and Vietnamese cooking, it's thinly sliced for salads or added to noodle soups for texture.
Read more: Food waste: From Seoul to Dubai, some of the world's initiatives for cutting food waste
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Tatler Asia
12 hours ago
- Tatler Asia
Leftovers? How Asia turns scraps into culinary gold
2. In Indonesia, nasi goreng perfects the spice of efficiency Above Photo: R Eris / Unsplash Indonesia's national dish, nasi goreng, began as a way to deal with excess rice. The magic lies in the sweet soy sauce, known as kecap manis, chilli, garlic and the possible inclusion of whatever's on hand. Think shredded chicken, tempeh, sambal or even fried shallots. Served with a fried egg, it's now a street-food icon, but its soul is still very much rooted in the everyday ritual of not letting anything go to waste. See more: Fried rice recipes from around Asia 3. In Vietnam, rice and broth are resurrected Above Photo: RDNE Stock project / Pexels In Vietnam, leftover or broken rice, also known as com tam, was once a poor man's staple—fragments of rice grains collected after milling. But it's now beloved in kitchens, topped with grilled pork, egg meatloaf and pickled veggies. The Vietnamese also believe in never wasting broth. Leftover pho stock gets re-boiled and served with thin rice noodles or vegetables. Some families even freeze it, knowing it only gets richer and better with time. 4. In the Philippines, locals master next-day feasting Like many other Asian countries, the Filipino breakfast table owes much to yesterday's rice. Sinangag, or garlic fried rice, is the heart of the silog meals (think tapsilog, longsilog, bangsilog), where last night's starch gets crisped in oil and served alongside cured meats or fried fish. However, this country can do more with leftovers. Leftover roasted pig or lechon from fiestas becomes paksiw na lechon—stewed in vinegar, liver sauce and bay leaves until it's somehow better than the original. The country's cooking is built on abundance and after-parties. 5. In Japan, rice is revived When a Japanese hot pot meal (like nabe) winds down, there's a beautiful moment: the broth, now thick with the essence of meat, vegetables and soy, is repurposed. In goes leftover rice and egg to create ojiya, a silky porridge that feels like a warm bath for the stomach. It's the culinary version of tucking yourself in. There's also chazuke, day-old rice revived with green tea or dashi, often garnished with pickled plum or nori—elegance, in its most frugal form. 6. In China, there is joy in repurposing Above Photo: Jay Abrantes / Pexels If there were a hall of fame for leftovers, Yangzhou chao fan, or Yangzhou fried rice, would be on the cover. The wok is a transformative force, and day-old rice—dried out just enough—is its ideal subject. Add diced char siu, egg, scallions, shrimp or even yesterday's dumpling fillings, and you've got lunch. Twice-cooked pork, or hui guo rou, from Sichuan, as its name implies, is about embracing second rounds: pork belly is simmered, then sliced and stir-fried again with leeks and bean paste. Delicious—even more than what they were originally.
Tatler Asia
26-07-2025
- Tatler Asia
What makes the tea-drinking culture of ancient Vietnamese people special?
Vietnamese tea needs no designated tea room as in Japan, nor the formal arrangement of teacups found in Chinese rituals. A clay kettle, a small pot and a few modest cups placed in the heart of a wooden house, perhaps beside a tray of betel and areca, with birdsong in the eaves, is all it takes to create a moment of quiet elegance. Tea in everyday Vietnamese life Vietnamese tea-drinking culture is composed of two distinct streams: folk tea and royal tea. Records from the Le and Nguyen dynasties tell of royal tea at state banquets, diplomatic receptions and ceremonial rites, tea served with reverence, governed by ritual. By contrast, folk tea seeps gently into the rhythms of daily life, becoming a silent companion to everyday moments and a subtle thread of social connection. Above The teapot is not merely a household object, but a silent witness to history (photo: Vietnamese tea culture) In the memory of the old countryside, mornings often began with the delicate scent of green tea, simmered with guava leaves or freshly plucked buds. On scorching summer afternoons, a modest cup of green tea offered quiet relief, a sincere gesture to ease the heat. Come nightfall, around a warm brazier, grandparents would gather, hands cradling tea cups, voices lowered in simple, familiar stories steeped in familial warmth. Therefore, the teapot is not merely a household object, but a silent witness to history; a vessel steeped in tradition, humanity and familial order. It holds moments of calm, stories shared between generations, and a portrait of village life that continues to linger in memory. Above In each variation, tea becomes not just a matter of taste or fragrance, but a quiet meeting of sky, earth and human touch (photo: Unsplash) Vietnamese people have also upheld a refined tradition of tea-scenting, transforming the act of tea-drinking into an art form. West Lake lotus tea, for instance, is scented by layering lotus petals and dried tea overnight beneath the mist, distilling the essence of the natural world into each cup. Jasmine, wolfberry and chrysanthemum teas each reveal regional techniques that echo the aesthetic sensibilities of the local people. In each variation, tea becomes not just a matter of taste or fragrance, but a quiet meeting of sky, earth and human touch. Vietnamese tea, the interweaving of many cultures While the Japanese tea ceremony is a path to pure meditation, built on the principles of harmony, respect, purity and tranquillity, often within dedicated tea rooms, Vietnamese tea is simpler, woven into the everyday. In Vietnam, tea is sipped on the front porch, under a banyan tree, in the courtyard of a communal house, or by the edge of the rice fields. It is there to remind one of the gentleness found in small, passing moments. Compared to China, where tea is elevated into a theatrical display with elaborate brewing rituals, the Vietnamese approach is more understated. There is a fondness for the humble: brewing tea in a clay pot, sometimes with nothing more than harvested rainwater and placing emphasis not on the form, but the feeling. Above Vietnamese tea is a quiet companion meant for reflection, for conversation, for listening (photo: Vietnamese tea culture) In the West, tea is often presented through formal traditions like British afternoon tea, where etiquette plays a central role. But at its heart, it remains social. Vietnamese tea, on the other hand, is not a performance. It is a quiet companion meant for reflection, for conversation, for listening. It invites slowness, not stimulation. See also: Decode your daily brew: must-know coffee terms for coffee lovers Above Tea artisans, researchers and passionate tea lovers are leading efforts to recover the lost roots (photo: Vietnamese tea culture) Reviving tea-drinking culture The 20th century brought with it upheaval: wars, political shifts, and sweeping waves of modernisation. Alongside the rise of coffee culture, alcohol, soft drinks and the expansion of urban life, traditional tea rituals began to fade. Once a fixture of everyday living, tea became something reserved for honoured guests or packaged for sale. Yet in the early years of the 21st century, signs of a cultural revival began to take shape. Tea artisans, researchers and passionate tea lovers are leading efforts to recover the lost roots, from reviving ancient brewing methods and rediscovering native tea varieties such as Shan Tuyet, Bach Hac, Suoi Giang, Ta Xua, Phin Ho and Khe Coc, to creating new tea spaces enriched with poetry, calligraphy and traditional Vietnamese art. Above Shan Tuyet Ha Giang carries the deep flavour of high mountain ranges, with a lingering sweet finish (photo: Ha Giang) Above The aroma of Ta Xua Son La tea is rich and evocative, steeped in the scent of the Northwest's earth and sky (photo: Shan Tea) Like the layered notes of a mountain symphony, each ancient Vietnamese tea variety carries its own distinct temperament. Shan Tuyet Ha Giang tea, cloaked in a soft coat of snow-white fuzz, holds the bold flavour of the highlands and a lingering sweetness. Suoi Giang Yen Bai, meanwhile, is rustic and pure, like the cool mist at 1,300 metres above sea level. Ta Xua Son La tea has a strong, ardent aroma saturated with the scent of the Northwest's earth and sky. In contrast, Phin Ho Hoang Su Phi offers a deeper, more robust flavour, enriched by the age-old processing secrets of the Red Dao people. Then there is Khe Coc Thai Nguyen tea, with its gentle, light quality that mirrors the softness of the midland region. Each cup captures a fragment of Vietnam's taste and colour: delicate, resilient, and enduring, much like its people. True to the sentiment expressed by Trinh Quang Dung in Vietnamese Tea Civilisation : 'Vietnamese tea culture is a culture of reconciliation and harmony. It is deep, not ostentatious, but permeates as long as the drizzle of the North.' Above The quiet beauty of tea culture deserves recognition as a vital strand of Vietnam's spiritual heritage (photo: Vietnamese tea culture) Reviving tea-drinking culture, then, is not merely about returning to old culinary habits. It is a reawakening of a once-vibrant way of life, a depth of spirit that formed the soul of the community. The tea culture of ancient Vietnam was never theatrical, nor was it framed as academic or elite. It was modest and rustic, yet carried profound resonance. Even during moments when it seemed to recede or disappear, Vietnamese tea culture remained like a hidden stream, flowing quietly beneath the surface, nourishing the cultural roots of the nation. And now, in the midst of an increasingly hurried world, as people search for stillness and authenticity, the elegance of tea culture deserves recognition as a vital strand of Vietnam's spiritual heritage. With that spirit, each cup of tea becomes a trace of history, a continuation of a civilisation built on reflection and grace. Tea, in this sense, is not merely something to be tasted, but a path through which we revisit the cultural layers that shaped the land, touched the soul, and flowed through time.
Tatler Asia
22-07-2025
- Tatler Asia
The art of using every part: 6 traditional Asian ingredients that reduce food waste
From banana stems to tea leaves, here are six ingredients that prove sustainability has always been part of Asia's culinary DNA. In many Asian households, resourcefulness isn't a trend—it's a way of life. Plastic bags are folded for reuse, takeout containers are repurposed and ingredients are stretched to their last edible fibre. This ingrained ethos of minimising food waste has been passed down through generations, and is evident in how traditional recipes embrace and elevate parts of produce that others often discard. Asian cooks have mastered the art of transforming food waste into culinary gold long before sustainability became fashionable What may look like an inedible trunk is, in fact, a fibre-rich treasure. The tender core of the banana stem—found by peeling away the outer layers of the pseudostem—is a versatile ingredient used in many Southeast Asian dishes. In India, banana stem transforms into kosambari, a refreshing salad that showcases the ingredient's raw crunch. Thai kitchens incorporate it into curries and sweet and sour vegetable soups. In Myanmar, it's simmered in mohinga, the country's beloved fish noodle soup where tender pieces of stem add substance and soak up the rich, aromatic broth. Equally celebrated is the banana 'heart'—the purple, cone-shaped flower that grows at the end of the banana fruit cluster. Known as 'puso ng saging' in the Philippines, it's sautéed with garlic and vinegar or turned into fritters and stews. In Thai and Vietnamese cooking, it's thinly sliced for salads or added to noodle soups for texture. Read more: Food waste: From Seoul to Dubai, some of the world's initiatives for cutting food waste
