Craving of the week

Yes la, I have cravings every week. I don't look pear shaped without effort you know. It’s harder than it looks mon cheri.

This time its the humble Keropok Lekor. The pride of the eastcoast state of Terengganu or as Awang Goneng reminisces, Trengganu. No doubt about it, I blame my current cravings completely on reading his Growing Up in Trengganu.

Made from wolf herring, (better known to the plebs like me as ikan parang) the keropok comes in two varieties - sausage shaped and chewy (the keropok losong), and thinly sliced and crunchy (the keropok keping).

Lekor was a late discovery for your truly. I do not remember having this delicacy as I was growing up in sleepy Taiping, until I was well in secondary school. Dipped in gravy, particularly hot from the pot gravy, one could well believe that ambrosia is made of fish and comes cheroot shaped.

When I was a kid keropok lekor was still rare in Perak and it was not something we could just buy from a roadside stall. The nearest keropok stall was at the night market next to the Kamunting bus depot, a 15 minute car ride from town. It was the only place I could get my fix, after our school canteen took it off the menu for whatever reason.

In KL today, the keropok has become common tea time fare alongside fried bananas, fried tapioca and whatever else they can coat in batter and deep fry to an artery wrenching crisp. Yet people still do take their lekor seriously as one guy who found it necessary to write to the national daily to complain about the dropping standards of lekor. Naturally the complainant is a native of Terengganu. Close to calling it an affront to state heritage, this man knows what he is talking about.

With devotion like that, how can I not crave a keropok lekor?

Guess what's for dinner, honey

In my modest family, my dad was the deft one in the kitchen. With a tendency to make things up as he went along, the end product was almost always mouthwatering. Although I still have my doubts as to whether the white vinegar that he once added into his fried rice really did anything for the dish.

My dad's expertise in the kitchen of course relegated mom to being the less celebrated chef. In all honestly, the subtle flavours of her milder Chinese specialties were mostly lost on her kids who grew up fishing out curry leaves out of their plates every makan time. Be it the humble sardine sambal to curry chicken or tumeric cabbage, the flavourful spices that is my dad's heritage permeated our senses and flavoured our childhood.

Nevertheless mom, to her credit and our enjoyment, did have a secret up her sleeve. One that was handed down to me when I was 15. It was for my Home Economics cooking exam and did I ace that one. And it is for posterity and as homage to my mom and all that is wholesome and nostalgic about growing up in a keen kitchen, I share this with the world.

Sambal Udang
200g medium prawns
3/4 cup coconut milk
Salt to taste
1/4 cup tamarind juice
3 table spoons cooking oil

To be pound to a paste
gallagal
4 dried chillies
4 red chillies
8 shallots
1 lemon grass
belacan

Heat oil. Over a small flame, saute the pounded ingredients until fragrant. Add the santan, salt and tamarind juice and allow to boil. Add a little water if necessary.The add prawns and viola, comfort food at its simplest.

Ramblings of an idle mind

I have been ill at home for the past 3 days for an I-don't-know-what affliction. There is a Chevening event coming up soon and I hope I will be at least fit enough for that.

In anycase these few days of staying at home and catching up on reading and dozing (just like the good old days) has rekindled my interest of being a housewife. By my calculations this will only be appealing for about a week before I go bonkers.

I promise I will write about something of better significance once my head has ceased rotting from this debilitating disease . In the meantime, go read some political blog or another and find out how your MP is embarrassing himself.

Oh, and I wonder how Ahmad Fairuz is going to even begin to respond to the Judicial Commission's confirmation as to his involvement in the judicial fixing fiasco. As it is, Wikipedia has already labelled him as the disgraced former Chief Justice of the Federal Court of Malaysia.

A long mamak session with The Lawyer (yes, you know who you are baby) is certainly on the cards.

Just an observation

It is a little disturbing when most of my peers are posting baby pics up as their FaceBook images. Their babies.

I am worried. Ok, so everyone is ahead. But being a mom really terrifies me. Not that I am gonna be one anytime soon, peeps. DON'T jump the gun.

Fragments

There is the danger, of course, that nothing is new,
that I only remind you of something you used to know,
an echo of something you may have wanted
once - another him, perhaps.

The way one would steal your breath with a stunning kiss;
a scent you've known, daubed at my wrist or neck;
the way your spine curves to meet the need
of the body curled behind you -

perhaps I am a collection of all these things.
A patchwork of familiar fragments.
A note in my voice, reminiscent of a song you loved
but have forgotten how to name.

Have my fingers traced the same curious paths
as others that have known the glazed skin
of the thin scar on your left thigh?

Does the way you arch your back
belong to me?

- Jacob Sam La Rose

Travel on a raffia string

Its out in the news that AirAsia X will start its flights to London in March next year. And it will cost only about RM1,200 for a return trip on an economy ticket.

Economy .. on a budget airline...on a long haul flight ....sounds painful to be honest but if one is willing to sacrifice a limb to thrombosis or willing to smuggle pork dumplings on board for sustenance then, boy oh boy this sounds like a great deal.

This comes from someone who is willing to contemplate a DHL jumbo box as means of travel. I am a self confessed a shoe string/raffia string traveler who has no qualms sleeping in a converted prison because there was nothing cheaper. (this was in Lucerne, by the way. Beautiful city, bloody expensive though)

But I mean why travel to Hong Kong when you can travel to London for the same price? (if you discount the losing of a limb) I'll blow my money at the West End and survive on 2 quids worth of chips everyday.
London smog. Here I come.

Do I look like a mule to you, hello?

All this posting of news clippings is not the way to blog. I know I know. But I can't help it. We have amazingly ridiculous politicians out there setting policies. Truth, mon ami, is so much more bizarre than fiction. I mean can you believe this?

Sunday May 4, 2008

Ministry wants women going abroad alone to get family consent

KUALA KLAWANG: Local women intending to travel abroad alone may need family consent in a bid to prevent them from being used as “drug mules” by international syndicates.

Foreign Minister Datuk Seri Dr Rais Yatim said a proposal to this effect would be made soon to the Cabinet, following several incidents where women were used to smuggle drugs overseas.

Out of 119 cases of Malaysian women hauled up before foreign courts, 90% were linked to drugs, he said.

“Last night, my ministry, together with the Home Ministry, have jointly forwarded a report to the Cabinet on the matter.

“Both ministries agreed that factors like family, religion, immigration laws and preventive measures need to be considered before a Malaysian woman goes abroad alone,” Rais told reporters after officiating at the Malaysian Silambam Association's Jelebu branch here yesterday.

On the proposed requirement for family consent, he said it would enable the woman's family to monitor her departure and serve as a preventive measure against her being duped by international drug syndicates. – Bernama

..............................

Now I have to tell my mom why I keep disappearing to the middle east with my bags laden with ganja and sex toys. Wonder if she will sign my consent form. Hehe.

Craving for the week

Putu mayam.

And its not been only a week, its been almost two weeks.

There was this one chap at bangsar pasar malam that used to sell it. Now that the night market is no more, my putu mayam is also no more.

Actually the guy may have been selling putu bambu. Even more mouthwatering! Hot steaming rice putu lovingly cocooned in bamboo. Heck if the philistines had this in their kitchens, Delilah could have just saved herself the trouble of seducing Samson. Just bring out the putu. Its temptation in banana leaves.

At Jusco One Utama, there is this stall selling putu piring. The stall is manned by a middle aged Indonesian lady, with compulsory white cap and apron. I know that cleanliness is next to godliness but, in terms of street food context, sterility is very suspect. The set up is just too clean.

And I mean the ibu no disrespect, but would she know the essence of what makes putu the fare of the masses, the favourite of children and the craving of Cass? It requires a generous hand, course hand grated coconut speckled with husk and most importantly - love. There should not be a lack of lurve, baby.

Yes I take my putu seriously.

Update:
I was right. The putu from jusco tak sedap.

Bookmark This

Oh, and Dr Mahathir has a blog.

http://www.chedet.com/

Tong Kosong

Malaysia is indeed a beautiful country. I know I get ungrateful at times and pine for London, but this place is, at the end of the day, home.

With all its greatness and shortcomings.

The land of nasi lemak sambal sotong, teh tarik, nyonya kebayas, mat rempits, racial polarity and people who say 'lah'. Either I am reminiscing through rose tinted glasses or I am just a fool, but don't you think things were better when we were children?

Was it that we were less exposed to racial intolerance or that it was not as bad then as it is today, I don't know. I have never had any of my classmates doubting the propriety of my mother's butter cake nor did anyone question me as to why I wear a baju kurung to school.

I remember that some time back, a canteen lady - a total stranger mind you asked a Chinese friend of mine why she was wearing a baju kurung since she is obviously not Malay. She replied something to the effect of "sukahati I lah."

I was reminded of this during the whole fracas involving the songkok issue where the elected representatives from DAP refused to wear the headgear for their swearing in at the Selangor State Assembly. How do we cultivate a bangsa malaysia when even wearing a songkok or a baju kurung can be politicized to this point. While the Opposition calls for government to abolish this and that and yet cannot make concessions to wear a songkok, I fear for for the future of the country la, seriously. Thank goodness we have normal sane people at the grassroots who posses common sense and gusto to tell these fellas to behave or get out. The people have never felt so empowered.

The spectacle that was the first televised parliamentary session was an utter embarrassment, particularly for DAP who failed to show that they could rise above the name-calling. You can watch it on YouTube. I won't besmirch my blog with clips of those. Sakit hati. And did Jeff Ooi really have to call a press conference to tell the world that his car was towed away because of improper parking facilities?

Much ado about nothing really.