Recipes from the rising star’s debut cookbook
Portrait by Amit Lennon
Food Photography by Liz Seabrook
In 2011, Julie Lin made a note to self on Facebook: “New mission in life,” she wrote in a status update on 4 December: “be Nigella Lawson.” At the time, she was working in retail in Glasgow and teaching piano and violin while channelling most of her creative energies into cooking dinner parties for friends. Flash forward 13 years and while Lin may not have fulfilled her mission exactly as stated, she’s been making all the right moves in that direction.
First she went on MasterChef in 2014 and made it to the quarter finals. Then she quit her job and became a chef, working in female-led kitchens before setting up her own street-food stall “down an old bin lane” in Glasgow. She graduated to a proper (albeit tiny) restaurant on the city’s south side in 2017, then a larger one in Partick called GaGa which is still going strong today – it was named best restaurant in Scotland in 2022.
Alongside all the restaurant work, Lin has become a familiar face on TV, charming viewers of Saturday Kitchen and Somebody Feed Phil with her deep food knowledge. Now she’s written a cookbook, the excellent Sama Sama, which unites the two parts of her heritage – Malaysian and Scottish – in unexpected and delicious ways. Think deep-fried oysters with spicy ketchup, or chop-suey aubergine served with a dram of smoky whisky.
When she first set her mind on writing a cookbook six or seven years ago, she wanted to focus solely on the Malaysian side. “My mum’s from Malaysia, and I go there every year,” she says. “I thought a traditional Malaysian cookbook would be an interesting artefact for people to have. But that idea changed over time.” Lin’s dad is Scottish and she grew up in Glasgow “with an abundance of amazing Scottish produce. So it feels like I’m from both places.”
Having feet in two different cultures is clearly a source of pride and inspiration for Lin now, but it wasn’t always that way. “Growing up I didn’t speak very much about the fact that I had Malaysian roots,” she recalls. At school she remembers getting “funny comments” about her appearance and the contents of her lunchbox. “But then when I was 15 or 16, I was like, hold on, it’s actually really cool.” In the book she describes being from two distinct places, each equally important to her, as “my greatest strength”.
It has helped in her cooking too. When she goes to Malaysia to visit her 93-year-old ahma (grandmother) and the extended clan, who are Baba Nyonya, or Malaysian Chinese, she seeks out fish-head curry and kangkung belacan (water spinach with shrimp paste), which she describes as “one of the greatest veggie dishes of all time”. She’s fascinated by the country’s turbulent colonial history, which is reflected in its patchwork of culinary influences. “It goes on for centuries: there was the Portuguese takeover, the Dutch, British, Japanese, and then British again, and that is woven into the food fabric.”
The heat of her mum’s hometown Melaka is intoxicating, but Lin relishes coming back to the cooler temperatures of Scotland and having access to “exceptional seafood, great beef and really good game”. And, Glasgow to the core, she dreams of deep-fried potato fritters in a generously buttered Mortons crispy roll (her intervention is to dust the fritters with chaat masala and slather the bun with chilli chutney mayo).
Lin is good at coming up with Scottish alternatives for hard-to-find Malaysian ingredients. When I mention that I loved her spin on nasi goreng, she’s delighted. “Sometimes we can’t get things like dried anchovies [in the UK],” she says, “so I replaced them with smoked mackerel. I think it does the trick.”
She found writing the book nerve-racking at times, especially when it came to questions of authenticity, having been criticised by customers in the past for not serving traditional dishes exactly how they expected. She grew more confident about developing what she calls an “authentically in-between” style of cooking, but it was still terrifying to show the book to her aunties in Malaysia, who among potential critics she describes as her “biggest firing squad”. Luckily, “they were all really happy, they thought it was a lovely book. I got a big seal of approval.”
Now Lin is busy brainstorming a second book – one idea is to write about Malaysia’s hawker stalls, whose owners spend decades perfecting a single dish. She is also drumming up concepts for TV shows, and recently she went to Istanbul with BBC News “to study their street food and culture and the cross between Turkish and Chinese cuisines there. For me, that’s like a dream come true – what a privilege to learn about other people’s cuisines.”
All this activity means stepping back from the daily running of GaGa. “I’ll always have a toe in restaurants,” says Lin, “but now, with this book coming out, I’ll be taking a step towards teaching and home cooking and presenting too.” A decade into her food career Lin has found a cooking style that’s fully her own.
Kaya toast with soft-boiled eggs
Kaya is a green, thick, luscious jam that spreads so well on toast and should be eaten with slabs of butter in between. It’s unbelievably delicious and goes best with thick, shop-bought white bread. It is dunked in rich, soft-boiled eggs that are salted with dark soy sauce and made fragrant with white pepper. If I could have only one jam for the rest of my life, it would be kaya. It’s made similarly to creme patissiere but flavoured with pandan leaf.
I’m not going to sugar-coat this, it’s a labour of love and needs to be stirred for a long time. However, the work is incredibly satisfying. If you don’t have enough time to make it, then I recommend Madam Chang’s kaya – this is sold by an independent retailer and it is delicious. But if you do have time to make your own, jar it up and keep it in your fridge. It’s the perfect snack.
Serves 1–2
For the kaya (coconut jam)
frozen pandan leaves 4, defrosted, plus 2 extra tied into a knot
caster sugar 100g
egg yolks 4 large
pandan essence a drop
coconut cream 200ml
To serve
eggs 2
dark soy sauce to taste
ground white pepper to taste
thick slices of white bread
thick slabs of butter softened
Directions
To make the kaya, blitz the 4 pandan leaves in a juicer or food processor with about 50ml water (you might need more if it isn’t liquefying into a watery paste). Pour through a fine mesh sieve so just the green juice is left and none of the leaves. Whisk the sugar and egg yolks together in a heatproof bowl until pale yellow.
Place the bowl over a pot of simmering water or double boiler, making sure the water doesn’t touch the bottom of the bowl. Cook and whisk the mixture, stirring continuously for a minute or two, then add the pandan juice, pandan essence, remaining pandan leaves and coconut cream, and continue to cook and whisk until it thickens to a jam-like consistency. This may take up to 1 hour, but remain patient as it’s completely worth it. Once thickened, let the coconut jam cool. You should have a thick, glossy, pale green curd that will keep in a sealed sterilised jar in the fridge for up to 5 days.
When ready to serve, put a pot of water on to boil and keep it on a rolling boil. Carefully place the eggs in the pot using a spoon, then put a lid on top. Remove after 5-6 minutes and crack them open into a bowl. Season with dark soy sauce and ground white pepper.
Meanwhile, toast the white bread and spread thickly with butter, then top with a generous layer of kaya. Dunk the kaya toast into the eggs; the contrast is delicious between the sweet coconutty kaya and the rich, salty eggs.
Fragrant soy roast chicken
I made this once for a friend who was having a rough time. I invited her round for a glass of wine, something to eat and a vent. In this kind of crisis situation, I feel chicken noodle soup is not the right dish. This dish gives that same hug-in-a-bowl feeling that you get from noodle soup, but it’s slightly easier to chat while eating. It’s also simple enough that you can listen intently at the same time. Hearty and moreish, it’s one of my favourite dishes. Cook this as an act of love for yourself or that pal who is having a rough one.
Serves 4-6
Shaoxing rice wine 200ml
light soy sauce 150ml
dark soy sauce 75ml, plus extra to taste
gula melaka palm sugar 150g (or dark brown soft sugar)
sea salt flakes 2 tbsp
MSG 1 tsp
cloves 15
root ginger 10 slices, cut 5mm thick
spring onions 8, cut into about 7cm pieces and smashed flat
star anise 5
chicken legs 1.5kg, skin on
dark soy sauce 100ml
honey 4 tbsp
cornflour 1 tsp
vegetable oil 1 tbsp
Seasoning station (optional)
light soy sauce, lime juice, black vinegar, MSG
To serve (optional)
Fresh coriander leaves
fresh Thai basil leaves
steamed rice
steamed green vegetables
Directions
In a large, deep pot, combine the Shaoxing rice wine, both soy sauces, the sugar, sea salt, MSG and 2.5 litres of water. Stir until all the sugar crystals dissolve. Add the cloves, ginger slices, spring onions and star anise to the pot, then bring the mixture to a gentle simmer over a low heat, ensuring the sugar has fully dissolved.
Carefully lower the chicken legs into the pot, making sure they’re fully submerged in the poaching liquor. If you need to add more water to cover the chicken, that’s fine at this stage as the liquor will be reduced later to create a sauce. Simmer over the lowest heat until the chicken is fully cooked through – use a digital probe thermometer to check the chicken has reached at least 75C inside. This usually takes about 40-60 minutes over a low heat, but the cooking time will vary depending on the size of the chicken legs.
Preheat the oven to 200C fan/gas mark 7. Remove the chicken legs from the poaching liquor and lay flat on a baking tray. Gently pat dry with kitchen paper and place in the hot oven for 10-15 minutes, or until the skin has gone crispy and golden.
To make the glaze for the poaching liquor, mix the dark soy sauce, honey and cornflour and simmer until it has reduced by half. Taste this sauce and adjust the seasoning with whichever seasoning station ingredients you feel like today.
Once cooked, brush the chicken with the vegetable oil and soy-honey glaze, making sure it’s well coated.
Serve the chicken with the herbs scattered over, alongside some steamed rice and green veg, if you like, and a bowl of the reduced poaching liquor (any left over is excellent as a fragrant noodle broth the next day; just strain to remove the flavourings before storing).
Chinese sausage bucatini carbonara
Carbonara will forever be one of my favourite dishes. The Chinese sausage (lap cheong) I use is an ambient food, so I always tend to have it in the cupboard. It’s truly one of the finest ingredients – its smoky sweetness makes it taste like maple-cured bacon and it works perfectly with the rich egg yolks. Allowing the fat to render a little releases the oils into the dish and creates the most moreish flavour.
Serves 2
dried bucatini 200g (or another long pasta)
Chinese sausage (lap cheong) 40g, thinly sliced at an angle
olive oil 1 tbsp
garlic 4 cloves, peeled and finely chopped
egg yolks 3
parmesan 50g, grated, plus extra to serve
light soy sauce 1 tsp
kecap manis (sweet soy sauce) ½ tsp
salt and black pepper
Directions
Bring a large saucepan of well salted water to the boil. Add the bucatini to the pan and cook for 8 minutes (or according to the packet instructions).
Meanwhile, in a dry frying pan, gently fry the sausage over a low heat until the oils are released, allowing it to get a bit crisp. Remove the sausage from the pan and set aside. Add the olive oil to the pan and fry the chopped garlic until fragrant but not browned.
Using a fork, whisk together the egg yolks, grated parmesan, soy sauce, kecap manis and a pinch of salt in a bowl.
Once cooked, drain the bucatini, reserving some of the pasta cooking water. Add the sausage back into the pan along with the drained bucatini and toss in the garlic oil. Slowly add a little of the pasta cooking water to the egg yolk mixture until glossy and combined. Pour this over the hot pasta and sausage and mix together. Serve immediately with black pepper and the extra parmesan grated on top.
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Nasi goreng with smoked mackerel
Nasi goreng is probably one of the most recognisable dishes in Indonesian and Malaysian cuisines. Nasi means rice and goreng means fried, so it translates simply as fried rice.
Full of flavour, this dish can be adapted to use up any ingredients you have in the fridge. I adore adding mackerel to this; the smokiness makes it extra punchy. It’s important to cook out the paste (rempah) here so that all of the roundness of the flavours can coat the rice. All of the day-old rice grains should absorb maximum flavour. Remember, nasi goreng is a simple dish to cook, but it’s all about making sure it’s not still wet at the end of the frying process.
Serves 2
vegetable oil for frying
spring onions 2, chopped into 4cm chunks
fine green beans 150g, trimmed
smoked mackerel 50g, flaked
cooked and cooled jasmine rice 300g (preferably a day old)
kecap manis (sweet soy sauce) 1½ tsp
fish sauce 1½ tbsp, or to taste
eggs 4
beansprouts 150g
For the rempah
long shallot 1, peeled and roughly chopped
garlic 5 cloves, peeled and roughly chopped
fresh long red chillies 2, deseeded and roughly chopped
dried red chillies 4, soaked in warm water for 20 minutes, drained, deseeded
dried anchovies (ikan billis) 2 tbsp
Seasoning station (optional)
sambal belacan, chilli crisp oil, fish sauce, light soy sauce, lime juice, salt
Directions
First, make the rempah. Place all the ingredients in a food processor or blender and blitz to a paste. Heat plenty of oil in a wok over a medium-high heat. (You need lots of oil to make the paste oily enough that it coats the rice.) Once the wok is hot, add the rempah, spring onion chunks, trimmed green beans and flaked mackerel. Fry everything for 1-2 minutes, stirring continuously so that the paste doesn’t catch and burn. Turn the heat down, then add the cooled rice to the wok with a few tablespoons of water. Add the kecap manis and fish sauce, stirring furiously until everything is mixed together.
Create a well in the centre of the rice. Keeping the heat on medium-low, crack two of the eggs into the centre of the well and allow them to scramble. Once fully cooked through, mix the scrambled egg through the rice with the beansprouts.
Heat enough oil to cover the base in a separate pan over a very high heat. Once the oil is very hot, crack the remaining two eggs into the pan. Fry until the skirts of the eggs are golden and crispy.
When ready to serve, spoon the rice into two bowls and top with the crispy fried eggs. Add whichever of the ingredients you fancy from the seasoning station.
Chinese-style spicy garlic celery
Celery divides people, for some reason. I think that’s because most of us are introduced to it in the form of batons dipped into hummus, which I don’t feel is its best form. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy raw celery. It has an earthy pepperiness that I find quite moreish. But I adore celery in its cooked form, especially with soy and garlic. This is a version of a common wok-fried celery dish we eat at large banquets in Malaysia. Once you get the knack of the timings, you can switch up the flavourings to whatever you fancy. If you want a more floral version, cook off some ginger. Again, it’s a dish bursting with flavour and something I make for myself when I need something green with a satisfying crunch.
Serves 1
Shaoxing rice wine 2 tbsp
light soy sauce 3 tbsp
white sugar 1 tsp
vegetable oil 2 tbsp
celery 1 bunch, sliced on an angle
garlic 5 cloves, peeled and finely diced
cornflour 1 tsp, mixed with 3 tbsp water to make a paste
Malaysian crispy prawn chilli or crispy chilli oil 1 tsp
salt and ground white pepper
Directions
In a small bowl, mix together the Shaoxing rice wine, soy sauce and sugar.
Heat the vegetable oil in a wok over a high heat.
Add the celery to the hot oil and stir-fry for 1 minute, or until a little translucent. Next, add the garlic and stir-fry for 2-3 minutes, or until fragrant.
Add the rice wine, soy and sugar mixture, then add the cornflour paste and stir-fry until everything thickens slightly. Allow all of the flavours to come together, then taste and adjust the seasoning with salt and white pepper.
Finally, add the crispy prawn chilli or crispy chilli oil and make a few last tosses. Serve immediately while piping hot.
Recipes from Sama Sama by Julie Lin (Ebury Press, £28), out 1 May
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