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Spicy Food in Muslim Asia

chrissarcletti

In this post, I've included a chapter from my 1st book. This particular chapter is titled Spicy Food in Muslim Asia and is focused on my travels in Malacca, Malaysia including one my all time most memorable meals and culinary experiences. Please enjoy Chapter 7 from my 2013 book titled See, Live, Eat: Globetrotting with a Fork and a Conscience.


See, Live, Eat is available for purchase on Amazon. A direct link to the book on Amazon can be found by clicking on My Books on my website www.seeliveeat.com.

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On my first trip to Asia, I visited Vietnam which brought me into a new world that I was longing to discover. As I read about

Singapore and Malaysia in preparation for my second venture to Asia, I grew increasingly excited to experience the distinct Indian, Malay, and Chinese elements that are part of these multicultural societies. That includes an intense food culture that can be particularly exciting to one’s taste buds.


As the rain poured outside, I packed my bag. Frustrated, I contemplated why I spent yet another night tossing and turning despite the fact that I was exhausted. Was it because I was sleeping on a padded

mat on the floor of my friend’s apartment in Singapore? Not really, as the air conditioning was on and the mat was pretty comfortable. I couldn’t blame my sleeping troubles on alcohol consumption either as

I only had one beer with dinner the previous evening. No matter the reason for my sleeping problems, it would take some caffeine to get me going on this morning.


I was excited for my bus ride with my friend Jami to Malacca before moving on to Kuala Lumpur on the following day. Jami was a

work colleague from Amsterdam whose home country is Singapore. She invited me to stay at her place when I told her I was planning to visit the region. Jami and I were in a hurry to beat the mad rush and make it to the Golden Mile Complex in Singapore to catch our bus. We arrived

5 minutes late, but were fortunate that we were still able to board the bus. The ride to Malacca was pleasant as there were huge green trees flanking the Malaysian highways. Along the way, we stopped at a café where I ordered a Malay curry noodle dish. Malay curries are said to be the best and I was not disappointed as my curry noodles with tofu, chili, and egg were outstanding. The food in Singapore was wonderful, and it did not appear that Malaysia would disappoint me in this regard.


Malacca Town is the capital of the Malaysian state of Malacca and is historically significant to the country due to the city’s creation of a language, counting system, and royal lineage which has had an

undeniable long term affect on the country. However, since Singapore was founded in 1819, Malacca has been in slow decline as Singapore and Kuala Lumpur have grown. Today, it is a popular tourist spot in Malaysia and has been listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 2008. A UNESCO World Heritage Site is a place, such as a forest, lake, monument or city that is deemed to have special cultural or physical

significance.


We arrived in Malacca and it immediately became apparent to me that Malacca is not Singapore. The two-hour bus ride brought me into a completely different environment. The majority of the women

I saw were dressed in traditional Islamic attire, although most of their faces were fully visible and the restaurants and shops that I passed by seemed to be operated primarily by women. While Malacca didn’t feel poor, the standard of living felt significantly different from that of clean, modern, and wealthy Singapore. This much was obvious immediately.


Malaysia is a Muslim country, but it is a modern Muslim country that prides itself on the peaceful cohabitation of its Sunni

Islamic majority and its significant Chinese and Indian non-Muslim populations. The Muslim history of Malaysia is an interesting one. As defined by the constitution of Malaysia, all Malays must be Muslim, regardless of their ethnic heritage; otherwise, legally, they are not Malay. There are associated privileges with being a Malay Muslim with entitlements including affirmative action policies in university

admissions and discounts on vehicles and real estate. Islam in Malaysia is thus closely associated with the Malay people, although not all Malays are Muslim. There are substantial numbers of Indian Muslims and

some Chinese Malaysians have also converted to Islam. Interestingly,

these non-Malay Muslims do not receive the same privileges that the Malays receive due to their status, unless they have a Malay parent in addition to some other requirements.


After we settled into our hotel, we walked to the nearby city center to explore Malacca on our feet. Jami had a friend in Malacca

named Juyang who served as our tour guide. Juyang was full of smiles and seemed to be very sweet. As we walked around, Jami and Juyang conversed mostly in Mandarin Chinese, while I jumped in and out of the conversation occasionally by way of translation with Jami. We were

all thirsty so our first stop was for a drink and a snack at a nearby cafe.


I immediately made an ass of myself when my bad habit of leaning back on my chair to the point where the legs of the chair are off the ground failed me. To start with, I was the only apparent Westerner in the place and definitely the only one with white skin. This made my folly all the more noticeable when the leg of my plastic chair gave out and I crashed to the ground, nearly knocking over a floor fan in the process. Jami and Juyang and a few other patrons got a good laugh at my expense, while I just wanted to regroup and get my rear end back on the chair. After getting seated properly, the beer I ordered

couldn’t come fast enough. It didn’t wash away my embarrassment, but it was refreshing given the heat and humidity. Jami ordered a dish of mee goreng. Mee goreng is a staple of Malaysian cuisine. It is a dish made with thin yellow noodles that are fried with garlic, onions, chilies, tomatoes, and either pork, prawns, beef, or chicken. Our dish was prepared with pork and the flavors meshed together perfectly to create something special. I can see how dishes like this can become addictive as I was not even that hungry but made sure every last noodle was accounted for.


After finishing the mee goreng, Juyang suggested that we order a sweet drink called cendol. It is a stretch to call cendol a drink as it is much more like a dessert consisting of thin, green, worm-like,

pandan-flavored noodles that are topped with palm sugar, coconut milk, red beans, and shaved ice. Pandan has a unique flavor with a somewhat nutty taste. While cendol doesn’t look all that appetizing, it tasted pretty good.


We made plans with Juyang to meet later that night for dinner, and Jami and I went our own way to explore the city for a bit. We walked in and out of many Asian artifact stores selling Malacca’s famous beaded sandals, artwork, and jewelry. The shopkeepers and vendors were busy setting up their stalls for the popular night markets that take place on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. These night markets are especially popular with the hordes of Singaporean tourists that love

to take weekend getaways to Malacca to shop and eat. We eventually ended up at Cheng Huan Temple. This Taoist temple is the oldest functioning temple in Malaysia. Impressive and extremely colorful, the main hall is dedicated to the Goddess of Mercy which is flanked by several smaller prayer quarters. I enjoyed immersing myself in the environment. It is hard not to sit down and meditate when you are in

such a tranquil space. It was quiet with many worshippers sitting with their eyes closed, some making a slight humming sound, with the scent of burning joss sticks in the air. After a relaxing 15 minutes, I emerged from the temple to find Jami waiting for me. We strolled through the

town, which continued to grow on me with its attractive river and smiling people. My initial impression of Malacca was that it reminded me of Hoi An in Vietnam. It has the same charming streets and seems

to be a place in which to meander about and get lost. Eventually we made our way back to our hotel to take a refreshing cool shower before dinner. Given the food I sampled already, I was very excited to sink my teeth into more Malaysian cuisine for dinner.


Juyang arrived at our hotel to pick us up with her husband Edmund and her friend Xuan. Edmund is a Portuguese Malay while

Juyang is Chinese. This is a mixed marriage on more than one level as Edmund is Catholic while Juyang is Buddhist. He has European roots while hers are pure Asian, and they seem to be a delightful and charming couple. As Edmund drove us away from our hotel, Jami whispered

to me that Juyang invited her husband to dinner partially because he speaks English well. Apparently, he speaks English frequently in his profession as a livestock trader and she thought that he could keep me entertained.


Fifteen minutes later, Edmund pulled off the side of the road and drove in the direction of what looked to be an oversized shack with 20-30 plastic tables sitting under the open air. Upon seeing the

restaurant, I started to get excited. Edmund told us that the restaurant was known for its fresh seafood. Given Malacca’s close proximity to the Straits of Malacca, it is inexpensive to get high quality fish and seafood here.


As we walked up to the restaurant and found an open table, it was hard to contain my excitement. I just had this feeling, this buzz that this was going to be one of those unforgettable dining experiences. Given the fact that we were 15 minutes outside of downtown Malacca, I was pretty sure that there were no tourists in this restaurant besides me and Jami. In fact, everyone at the restaurant except for our party

appeared to be Muslim based on how they were dressed. I noticed the rising smoke coming from behind the restaurant. As I walked in the direction of the smoke, I observed that the food was being cooked in pans on top of a number of grills behind the restaurant. The building in the middle, the restaurant, had washrooms and some storage space and a preparation kitchen, but there was no indoor dining. With only

20 to 30 open air tables surrounding the building and no seats inside, my assumption was that this restaurant is closed for business when it rains.


Near what I would describe as the front of the restaurant, there were large display tanks filled with fresh fish and seafood. I

asked Edmund how to order and he explained that you approach the person working behind the display tanks, select what you want, and tell the person working how you want each selection to be prepared. Everything is cooked to order. All of the women agreed that Edmund should choose the dishes that we would share at our table. While I didn’t object, I was way too curious not to tag along with Edmund and see how this whole process worked.


Edmund and I walked up to the tanks and Edmund surveyed what was available. After a moment or two, he pointed at a live fish in one of the tanks and said that we would like this fish prepared spicy with chilies. He then selected some crabs and said we wanted those prepared with a sweet and sour sauce. As I observed this process, my

eyes grew bigger and I stared in awe at the still alive crabs and fish that would be on our table in 15 or 20 minutes. We moved onto the display case next to the tanks which was filled with ice and had an assortment of squid, prawns, and octopus. Edmund pointed to the prawns and

offered instructions, explaining that we wanted the prawns fried with mild chilies and butter. The last item he selected was a large squid with the instructions that it should be prepared with hot chilies. As Edmund said this, I wondered to myself “Aren’t all chilies hot?” We walked back

to our table, sat down and I wasted no time embarrassing myself for the second time that day when I ordered a beer. The waiter’s response was a blank stare, which turned into a smile and a friendly laugh. He didn’t

even need to explain that they didn’t serve alcohol as I immediately recognized my folly. Despite all the signs, I didn’t realize that this was a pretty strict Muslim establishment. Just as strict followers of Islam don’t eat pork, they also don’t drink alcohol. In lieu of a cold beer, I ordered a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice. Our drinks arrived and we sat and chatted while we waited for our meal to arrive. After a few

minutes, I began to survey my surroundings. We were sitting outside on the side of the road amongst 50 or 60 people enjoying a Saturday evening dinner with family and friends. Everyone except for our party of four is dressed in traditional Muslim clothing. There wasn’t a tourist in sight. I thought to myself, “This is the essence of travelling. This is what makes the long trips and jet lag all worth it.”


Our meal began with a basket of nasi lemak. Nasi lemak is a base accompaniment to many of the entrees served in Malaysian cuisine. In Kuala Lumpur, it is called the national dish, a national heritage of Malaysia. Traditionally, nasi lemak comes wrapped in banana leaves and consists of rice with cucumber slices, small dried anchovies, roasted

peanuts, hardboiled egg, and hot spicy sauce or sambal packed into a compact cake. There were 15-20 nasi lemak packages in the basket on our table and each rice cake was wrapped in newspaper. In addition, the server brought out a bamboo container of otak-otak. This dish is

another common accompaniment to the main course dishes consisting of fish paste mixed with coconut milk, chili paste, and garlic or shallots. It is then wrapped in a banana leaf and steamed. We couldn’t wait for the entrees so we tasted both of these

dishes. I had nasi lemak numerous times in Singapore but this was the best version I had yet tasted. The steam made the nasi lemak sticky so I needed to pull chunks of rice off and pop them into my mouth. The strange combination of flavors, sweet coconut, spicy chili and fish paste, in the otak-otak can only be described as wonderfully complex. Within minutes, long platters of food began arriving on our table. First the chili squid arrived, followed by the prawns and the crabs. The last dish to arrive was the whole fish Edmund selected 20 minutes ago when it was still swimming in the tank. Now it was snuggly tucked into

a banana leaf on a platter in front of us.


As I looked at the feast before my eyes, I began to form a plan of attack. There were no plates or napkins on the table. The only thing other than the platters and bowls of food were some small bowls of sauces and forks and spoons. I was in unfamiliar territory and needed to watch the actions of the others to see how they proceeded. It appeared that the newspaper that the nasi lemak was wrapped in was to serve as our plate. Just as the others did, I unwrapped a nasi lemak and began to put different piles on my “plate.” A few prawns, a crab, a scoop of fish, and some squid. I ate the same way the women ate, which is the same way I ate in Singapore. The fork goes in the left hand and the spoon goes in the right. The fork is used to push food onto the spoon, which

goes directly into my mouth. Bite after bite, the intense combination of flavors—chilies, fish paste, sweet and sour, hotter chilies, lime, and garlic, made my mouth explode in ecstasy. My taste buds were challenged like never before.


After a few spoonfuls of intense eating, I looked around and noticed that Edmund was the only person at our table not using

utensils. He was eating with his hands. I then looked around at some of the other tables and most people seemed to be eating with their hands. Edmund explained that it is very typical for Malay Muslims

to eat with their hands. I wasted no time in adjusting as I pushed my silverware to the side and began to eat like the locals. Edmund noticed my adjustment and smiled, indicating approval. The women

laughed as they noticed the sweat accumulating on my forehead and brow as I feverishly ate chunks of spicy prawns and squid. I looked up and smiled, ordered another orange juice, and then went back to my meal. The flavors were addictive. I rolled bits of nasi lemak into balls and mashed bits of fish and squid together with the rice before putting them into my mouth. I picked up a crab and used my teeth to crack the shell before pulling out the sweet flavored meat that is influenced by the tasty sweet and sour sauce. With no napkin, I licked my fingers to clean them, and even my fingers tingled slightly from

the hot chilies. I felt like I needed to wash my hands and remembered that I noticed a line of people earlier that appeared to be waiting to wash their hands in a sink next to the washrooms. As I headed towards the sink, I thought to myself that this scene might appear comical to some. I was the only Caucasian in the restaurant dressed in shorts and a T-shirt in line behind a bunch of darker skinned Malaysians dressed in

traditional Islamic dress, including men with Muslim prayer hats and women with headscarves.


As I waited to wash my hands, I contemplated this experience. Eating with my hands on the side of the road with the most basic tools—tanks, grills, pans—used to produce tasty, complex seafood dishes that surpassed what you would pay five times as much for at a restaurant in the Western world. The key ingredient was the quality of the fresh fish and seafood and the fresh vegetables, chilies, and spices

used to create such intricate flavors. Eating meals like this is why I travel. It is for these experiences that I plan trips years in advance and keep copious notes based on what I read, see, taste and hear.


After dinner, Edmund drove us back to central Malacca to Jonker Street to check out the night markets. This is a shopper’s

paradise and hordes of locals and tourists were out on this evening. From stalls selling art to jewelry, crafts, clothing, and of course, food, you can pretty much find anything you need here. We were all stuffed from dinner but the food looked so tasty that I was tempted to try some, but wisely decided to listen to my full stomach instead of my curious taste buds. The atmosphere was festive with music, a lot of people, and energy that reverberated throughout the market, which only occurs on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. After walking around for awhile, we sat outside at a café and enjoyed a drink with our hospitable hosts. I insisted on buying a round of drinks after Edmund and Juyang so generously insisted on paying for the entire meal. As we enjoyed a beer, Edmund and I had a nice conversation about the strong

Portuguese culture in Malacca. We talked about how Malacca could serve as a good example to the rest of the world of how different ethnic groups can live together peacefully. Our drink capped a wonderful

evening highlighted by great company and an intense, memorable, and unforgettable dining experience.



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About Chris Sarcletti

Chris Sarcletti is an avid explorer, writer, and music, hiking, and health and fitness enthusiast. He enjoys exploring new destinations and sharing his travel experiences through his blog and three published travel memoirs. His latest book, A Family Travels as One: A North American Travel Memoir, is now available.

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