Three-Sauce Braised Pot: The Ultimate Lazy Cook’s Hack

This week’s dish is, without a doubt, the easiest recipe I’ve ever posted. I say this with full confidence because it involves exactly two steps: 1) throw everything into the rice cooker and 2) press the button. That’s it. No stirring and no precise seasoning balance. Just dump, braise, and eat.

The beauty of Three-Sauce Braised Pot is its simplicity and adaptability—a dish so versatile that I’ve successfully made at least eight different versions of it. Swap chicken wings for ribs? No problem. Replace sweet potatoes with pak choi? Still amazing. In fact, I’m convinced this is the single best way to clean out all the random leftovers in your fridge before they enter their final stage of decomposition.

It’s almost painful to recall how many things I had to clear out of my kitchen that were used just once and then left to rot forever

Leftovers have been the eternal struggle of my cooking journey. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to throw away sprouted scallions, slimy ginger, or suspiciously green-tinged meat. Sometimes my fridge looks less like a food storage unit and more like a petri dish in a biology lab. I still remember the time when I left the mystery liquid under the trash bag in my apartment lift. The horrified looks from people as they stepped in, covering their noses glaring at me. The walk of shame back to the lift with a mop in hand? Peak humiliation.

So now, rather than attempting complicated new dishes and forgetting about the expensive specialty ingredients until they rot, I start forcing myself to follow the three principles:

• Cycle through the eight dishes I actually know how to cook.

• Use whatever I have on hand.

• Stop making my fridge an unintentional science experiment.

And here it is—the easiest, most forgiving dish in my cooking rotation.

Ingredients You’ll Need (Serves 2)

For the sauce (these are essential):

• ketchup

• sweet bean paste

• hot broadbean paste

• soy sauce

• oyster sauce

For the main ingredients: literally whatever you have in your fridge, but here’s my version

• 4 fresh chicken wings just bought today

• 4 chunks of pork ribs from last week

• 1 single mushroom that has been waiting for its turn for… a while

• 1 shriveled ginger that’s been in my fridge longer than I’d like to admit

• 1 red bell pepper that I don’t even remember buying but was in the drawer

• 1 perfectly fine potato that miraculously didn’t sprout

• yesterday’s onion, still crisp and full of potential

• half a bag of broccoli tips that I thought I’d already used up but actually hadn’t

Step-by-Step Cooking Guide

Prepare

1. Cut everything into pieces that will cook easily: dice the potatoes, slice the onions and peppers, make shallow cuts in the chicken wings and pork ribs, etc.

Make the Sauce (This is the most crucial step! This sauce, as we Chinese like to say, ‘could make even shoes taste delicious’)

2. Directly in the rice cooker, mix together one tablespoon each of ketchup, sweet bean paste, hot broadbean paste, soy sauce, oyster sauce

3. Scoop out half of the sauce and set it aside for later

Start Building a Food Tower: from Base to Top 

4. Add all your vegetables into the rice cooker first, mix with the remaining sauce in the pot until evenly coated

5. Place the meat on top of the vegetables, pour in the reserved sauce and spread it evenly over the meat

6. If you have ginger like I do and garlic which I don’t, you can place them on top of the meat to help eliminate any fishy smell

7. Close the lid and set the rice cooker to "Cook" mode, leave it to do its work

Serve & Enjoy

8. Once the food’s ready, open the lid and give everything a stir

9. Serve over rice and feel proud that you just saved half your fridge from being wasted!

   

   
   

Final Thoughts

I used to think that being a ‘good cook’ meant constantly trying new recipes, mastering complex techniques, and creating Instagram-worthy meals. But after too many failed experiments and too many expensive ingredients left to rot, I’ve realized that for me, cooking is about sustainability—not just for the environment, but for my sanity.

So now, my cooking routine is ridiculously simple. I rotate between the same eight dishes, rearrange the ingredients, and call it a day. Maybe that sounds boring, but to me, it’s a sign of balance. It means I’ve figured out what works, found my footing, stopped stressing over daily survival, and started using my time to explore life beyond my kitchen in this new environment.

If you try this recipe, let me know in the comments what unique ingredients you used—I’m genuinely curious about the odds and ends lurking in everyone’s fridge!

Happy cooking and till next time!!

Corn & Pork Rib Soup: A Peek into Auntie’s Kitchen

I’ve shared my grandmother’s recipes, I’ve shared my mother’s. Now, it’s time to introduce a dish from the third most important woman in my life—my aunt.

my grandma, auntie (left), and mom (right) from 40 years ago

Growing up, weekends were a rotation of meals at our home, my grandma’s home, and my aunt’s home. At my grandma’s, we’d have steaming bowls of rice noodles; at our place, hundreds of different new dishes my mom has just learnt from the internet; and at my aunt’s? The unmistakable, lingering sweetness of the corn & pork rib soup.

Her soup is always so good that by the time the lid came off, the entire house smelled like comfort itself. She would simmer it from morning till night, letting the ribs soften, the corn release its natural sweetness, and the broth turn milky and rich.

I have photos of my mom’s and grandma’s cooking, but I couldn’t find a single picture of my aunt’s dishes that would be presentable enough for this blog—which, to be fair, has never been known for its good photography. I think that says it all. (Auntie, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry.)

Compared to my restaurant-running grandmother and my culinary expert mother, my aunt has never been much of a cook. In fact, my cousin once told me she thinks her mom’s cooking is worse than cafeteria food—a thought I can’t even begin to process, considering my mom’s cooking is nothing short of perfect. But somehow, this one dish? She nails it. And that’s the best proof of how simple it is.

Now, I know what you’re thinking—this blog is all about 30-minute meals, and an 8-hour simmer is absolutely NOT happening in my student kitchen. But here’s the best discovery: it doesn’t matter how long you cook it—30 minutes, 5 hours, or simply wait until the water comes to a boil—it’s still delicious. 

Ingredients You’ll Need (Serves 2)

200g pork ribs

1 corn

cooking wine

saltsugar

(yes, just that simple)

Step-by-Step Cooking Guide

Prepare

1. Cut the pork ribs into chunks and slice the corn into rounds, if they aren’t already pre-cut (not in my case)

2. Fill a pot with cold water and add the pork ribs and 1 tbsp cooking wine, bring it to a rolling boil to remove excess blood, then drain and rinse the ribs under warm running water

Start Simmering

3. In a new pot of boiling water, add the blanched ribs, 1 tbsp sugar, and proper amount of salt

4. Bring to a boil, then add the corn rounds and cover the pot with a lid, reduce heat to low and simmer

Time Management

5. As mentioned earlier, in theory, you only need to boil it for about ten minutes to ensure all the ingredients are fully cooked, and it’ll already be delicious and simple. However, if you have the time and aren’t in a rush to eat, I recommend leaving the pot on the stove to simmer while you go do some homework. Let the aroma of the corn grow richer and more enticing over time, just like it did for me when I was a child, making your mouth water and stomach growl with hunger. When you can’t take it anymore and finally sit down to eat, the flavours will be even more incredible.

   (Of course, safety first: make sure to keep an eye on the stove!)

   

   
   

Final Thoughts

Making this soup reminded me of something I hadn’t thought about in a long time—just how much I miss my aunt. She’s the one who talks to me like an equal instead of a kid, and she was the only elder who saw my belly piercing and gasped in admiration instead of horror. We can chat for hours about anything, my mom always says it's because she, like me, is naïve and never truly grew up. But I prefer to think that we simply share the same wild imagination.

I love her for that.

And every time I make this soup, it feels like I’m sitting in her kitchen again, watching her lift the lid, letting that warm, corn-sweetened steam fill the air. So here’s to my aunt, and here’s to soups that bring us home, no matter how far we are.

auntie sends her smug face knowing I'm writing about her

Cantonese Claypot Rice: A Classic Dish with a Spanish Twist

plus, they're not that different, right?

This week’s dish is a bit of an experiment—an unexpected twist on a classic Cantonese favourite. When I first tried making Cantonese Claypot Rice here in the UK, I quickly realised a problem: finding authentic Chinese lap cheong (Chinese sausage) is nearly impossible. So, after some trial and error, which is what any creative home cook would do, I found a much more accessible alternative: Spanish chorizo. Available in every supermarket and, let’s be real, much cheaper. The best thing is that I’m not a Cantonese. To my non-Cantonese taste buds, they’re really not that different. The smokiness and slight sweetness of the chorizo work just as well, absorbing into the rice and creating that signature umami. Maybe I’m committing some culinary heresy here, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

...right??

Another problem is that what makes Cantonese Claypot Rice is the CLAYPOT. Cooking the rice over an open flame in an actual claypot allows it to form a crispy bottom and a special aroma. But again, here in the UK across the sea in my tiny apartment, a basic rice cooker is the best thing I have. Over the experiments, I’ve also discovered the easiest way to reach the most similar effect.

-- Is my version of this dish authentic? No.

-- Is it delicious, easy, and practical for students who have lectures to take and homework to do? Absolutely.

Sometimes, creativity in the kitchen leads to great discoveries. So here it is: Cantonese Claypot Rice, international student edition.

Ingredients You’ll Need (Serves 2)

• rice

• ½ chorizo sausage (or Chinese cured sausage if you’re so lucky to be able to find it)

• 2 eggs

• 1 pak choi

• 100g broccoli tips

• 2 cloves garlic

• soy sauce

• oyster sauce

• sugar

• water

Step-by-Step Cooking Guide

Prepare

1. Wash 1½ cup of rice (the cup I use here is actually a repurposed M&S rice pudding container. I’ve found that one and a half cups in this measurement is just the right amount for my roommate and me to have a satisfying meal. However, I won’t be showing you my little upcycled gadget, its appearance isn’t exactly appetising😓)

2. Slice the chorizo (or Chinese sausage) into thin rounds

3. Wash pak choi and broccoli, but no need to chop them

4. Mince garlic and mix it with soy sauce, oyster sauce, sugar, and water in a small bowl for the sauce

Start Cooking: Round One

5. Add water until it just covers the rice—not too much, this is the key to achieving the crispy even without a claypot

6. Place the sliced chorizo directly on top of the rice

7. Start the regular rice cooking cycle

Round Two

8. Five minutes before the rice is fully cooked, open the lid and crack 2 eggs on top, along with the pak choi and broccoli, then drizzle the prepared soy sauce mixture over everything

9. Close the lid again and let it cook for the remaining five minutes

Wrap It Up: Enjoy Your Claypot Rice Without a Claypot!

10. When plating, make sure to scrape up the slightly crispy rice at the bottom— it's the rice cooker version of the golden crispy rice crust and the soul of this dish

11. Enjoy your hacked-together, student-friendly version of Cantonese Claypot Rice!

    

    
    
    
    
    
    

Final Thoughts

I’ve made this dish countless times, only to realize every single time that my tiny rice cooker can’t handle the generous layering of ingredients like those in fancy online claypot rice tutorials. Instead, I had to stack everything on top of each other, creating something that looked… well, less than perfect, as you can see in the pictures above.

But this small rice cooker has been with me for four years. It’s traveled with me across four moves, three apartment buildings, and two different cities. I first brought it over from China, choosing it specifically because it was small enough to fit in my luggage. And even now, it’s still just the right size for me and my roommate—my only constant companion in this ever-changing journey abroad. Over the years, I’ve thrown away a lot of things to make moving easier—downsizing from eight boxes to just two—but this rice cooker has always made the cut. It’s old now, the logo worn off, the surface stained with oil, no longer something you may proudly display in a blog. But to me, it’s still one of my most valuable possessions.

Even now, as I write this blog in my late-night kitchen, it sits quietly nearby, keeping me company—just as it has for hundreds of nights before.

So, while the small capacity of my rice cooker might have left my final dish looking messy and far from those picture-perfect online tutorials, it still served its purpose—and for that, I’m incredibly grateful.

And that’s what really matters.