Category: Native Cuisine

Around 7A.M., a figure could be seen riding an old motorcycle which bore a metal case, slowly heading towards the junction between Pudu Integrated Commercial Complex (ICC Pudu) and Pudu Plaza, the vehicle is then propped beside a lamppost. Uncle Chai Tsim Luk opens the metal case and starts prepping the fresh ingredients purchased daily from the market: cutting sheets of meat jerky into strips, and topping up the empty container with meat floss. The charcoal inside the portable stove is already ignited, all the necessary preparations have been made. At 8A.M., Uncle Chai starts selling charcoal-grilled meat jerky and floss buns, till noon or sold out. 

Meat jerky and floss bun was a creative approach by meat jerky stores to promote consumption of meat jerky besides being a festive food during Chinese New Year. Affordable and tasty, substantial and convenient, meat jerky and floss bun was the hype of the 1960s and 70s. Hawkers seized the business opportunity and sprung up everywhere, popularizing the meat jerky and floss bun which then became a classic breakfast fare. 

Firstly, slice the bun horizontally, spread with butter, and grill until crispy and aromatic. Uncle Chai carefully trims the burnt bits away, and spreads more butter before adding fillings. He piles up the meat floss and a few cucumber slices, add a strip of jerky, and then squeeze some chilli sauce or ketchup based on customer preference. 

Uncle Chai hailed from Sentul, a born-and-bred KL-ite. During his youth, he worked as a movie projectionist, a deliveryman and various other jobs. In his hectic lifestyle, he fell in love with the common and affordable meat jerky and floss bun. He happened to make an acquaintance with a hawker whom he frequented, and started selling meat jerky and floss buns in the morning, after he finished his night shift at the cinema. When the cinema ceased operations, he became an itinerant hawker, with flexible work hours and locations. He works if the weather permits, and rests when it rains. 

The eye-catching yellow signboard is handwritten by Uncle Chai himself, who acquired a bold calligraphy style from decades of writing movie flyers at the cinema. Since the British colonization era, Malaysians have started to adopt English names. Uncle Chai took a liking to the name ‘Winson’, transliterating it into ‘everlasting victory’ in Chinese, also containing good hopes for his enterprise. In his younger days, he went around crowded places, such as housing areas in Cheras, Bukit Bintang, and Chow Kit road. As he grew frailer with age, he chose to set up a stall in a fixed spot at Imbi wet market, now relocated to ICC Pudu. 

Uncle Chai believes that good grooming is courtesy to others, therefore he always keeps up a neat and clean appearance. Sporting a short-sleeved shirt, trousers, and black leather shoes, he appears to be full of spirit despite being over 80 years old. Uncle Chai thoroughly enjoys his job, as working hours are short, and no abusive scolding by superiors involved. Over the past 40 years, most of his fellow hawkers either changed jobs or switched to using gas stoves, yet he sticks to using a cumbersome charcoal stove to maintain the authentic flavour. Even though ingredient costs continue to hike, he only implemented slight price increases. Now that fellow hawkers are selling at RM4 to RM5 per piece, Uncle Chai sells at RM3.30, the portions remain generous. A single man, he only needs to generate sufficient income to sustain himself, without having to worry about feeding a family.

Pursuing his passion for a career, Uncle Chai retains an upbeat attitude and enjoys an ordinary life. An old motorcycle and a custom-made metal case keeps him company in making ends meet. He is satisfied with what he has, and is honest and kind, reaping a comfortable lifestyle. 

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang / Michael Lerk
Drone : Daniel Lim
Video Editor : Michael Lerk
Copywriter : Pua Hui Wen
音乐 Music : 《Nature》

COPYRIGHTS 2021 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

In a corner of the light and bright kitchen, red-hot charcoal burning in the cement stove turns into gray ash. A free-range duck, cleaned thoroughly, with its feathers all plucked and entails removed, is trussed and ready to be cooked. As the water in the cast iron wok boils, an hour-long hot bath awaits the duck, after which the Hainanese boiled duck is born.

Pang Yok Sin, one of the school directors of Port Dickson Chung Hua High School, is sweating profusely while cooking, busy controlling the temperature of the charcoal stove and the doneness of the food, with assistance from his wife. After soaking the duck in boiling water, rotating it at intervals while pouring boiling water over its flesh to ensure even heating and doneness, the cooked duck is removed from heat to cool before being cut up and served. The remaining soup stock is the essence of the duck, and can be used to cook fragrance duck rice, blanch vegetables, make essential condiments, or even cook zucchini soup. Uncle Pang and wife conjure up a tableful of authentic Hainanese dishes while demonstrating the virtue of thrift.

The specialty of Hainanese dishes focus on fresh ingredients and their original tastes. The four classic dishes being: WénChāng chicken, JiāJī duck, DōngShān mutton, and HéLè crab; all were named after their cities of origin. Among them, the traditional way of preparing WénChāng chicken and JiāJī duck is by boiling, to preserve the tender meat texture of poultry. During the global mass migration in the 20th century, many Hainanese forefathers settled down in Malaysia, simple Hainanese dishes such as boiled chicken and chicken rice became popular. However, authentic Hainanese boiled duck and duck rice balls are rarely found in local restaurants. Uncle Pang is only able to savour these upon visiting his eldest brother or paying respects to his ancestors in QióngHǎi city.

Boiled duck is easy to cook, the challenge lies in seeking a suitable duck. JiāJī duck, commonly known as “foreign” or mule duck, is a hybrid of muscovy and common duck, and the breed was said to be brought in from Malaysia to JiāJī town in QióngHǎi city some 300 years ago. The features of mule ducks are a stout body and shanks, with white and black feathers which are extra long at the wings and tail. Mule ducks are allowed free range for two months, and then force-fed for a month. Therefore the duck has thin skin and soft bones, its meat high in protein but low in fat, best boiled to showcase the tender texture. The Malaysian government discourages home poultry breeding due to hygiene reasons, yet the duck available in supermarkets are unpalatable, so mule ducks are hard to come by.

With great difficulty to secure a suitable duck, Uncle Pang endeavoured to retain the natural taste of the duck. Firstly, clean the duck of feathers and entrails, rub it over with salt and flour, then blanch it. Prior to boiling, the duck is stuffed with equal portions of ginger, garlic, and shallots mixed with salt. It is then trussed to ease rotating. Controlling the charcoal stove temperature at a simmer requires patience and skills, so that the duck is cooked evenly. The remaining ginger, garlic, and shallots are then stir-fried, drizzled with the rich duck stock, enhancing flavours by adding lime, vinegar, or chilli. Such is the preparation of condiments to complement the dish.

Even though it has been decades since Uncle Pang last cooked this traditional dish, the steps are deeply ingrained in his mind, particularly the charcoal stove brought back fond childhood memories of cooking together with his parents and siblings. The open kitchen doubles as a dining hall where the entire family gather happily. Zucchini is planted in the backyard, easily available to be plucked and cooked into soup whenever the family is having boiled duck, the succulent zucchini is packed with yummy duck aroma.

The simple yet delicious boiled duck and various derivative dishes reflect the strong emotional bonds in Hainanese dishes. The elder generations taste familial attachment, while the younger generations chew upon cultural heritage. Uncle Pang who is of advanced age, not only took pleasure in cooking, but also proactively promotes traditional native cuisine.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Video Editor : Amelia Lim
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : The Romantic

COPYRIGHTS 2020 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Long and thin yellow noodles coiled into palm-sized flat discs on a bamboo sieve, is an authentic Hokkien dish——Khún Mī, also known as “Khún Miên” or coiled noodles. It has a springy but not sticky texture, usually best consumed alongside dishes with rich sauces, such as braised pork knuckle, sea cucumber pork stew, or bak kut teh. The way of eating may vary, some like to twist pieces off similar to eating bread, whereas others would cut into small pieces and pick up with chopsticks. Khún Mī is not greasy due to no oil used during its production, pure original noodle flavours can be savoured upon each bite.

Consuming noodles on birthdays imply longevity, therefore in Hokkien food culture, noodles are of great consequence. Noodles are also a must-have in worshipping deities and ancestors. Khún Mī stands out from the rest due to its circular shape symbolizing completeness, as well as its excellent shelf life, since it does not turn sour or spoil easily after being laid out for a few hours in the warm and humid climate of Malaysia. Moreover, dishes paired with Khún Mī bear good significance, for instance pork knuckle means improvement, sea cucumber means endless opportunities, indirectly establishing Khún Mī’s sublimity in the Hokkien society.

Elders who moved abroad in the early days are more familiar with this native dish, popular with homesick migrants. As they settled down in Malaysia, Khún Mī evolved into a common economical food. Eventually the older generation passed away, the younger generations who did not have fond attachments stopped producing the time-consuming and laborious Khún Mī, as they regarded efficiency to keep up with modern lifestyles. Khún Mī became increasingly rare, mostly sought after by Hokkiens for the Jade Emperor’s birthday celebration and Hungry Ghosts festival. Youngsters nowadays may not have heard about Khún Mī, but only yellow noodles which are almost identical.

In Kuala Pilah located in the mid-section of Negeri Sembilan, the sole remaining family-run noodles workshop lies behind the slope of the hawker centre, specializing in producing and supplying traditional Hokkien noodles including yellow noodles and Khún Mī. The both are basically the same, the only difference being Khún Mī is oil-free and has a pleasing visual. Khún Mī is toilsome to make, requiring delicate handiwork and involves more manpower. Firstly, cut out noodle strips two feet in length, then hang onto a rattan hoop and spread out gently. During the blanching process, it is important to note the temperature, as overcooking may cause breakage. The cooked noodles are submerged in cold water for al dente consistency, then one person sorts them into clusters of 4-5 strips, and another coil them up on a bamboo sieve.

With almost 40 years experience in manufacturing noodles, Uncle Lim Sze Hock, nicknamed “Noodle-seller Hock”, is the third generation successor of this family-run workshop. His grandfather set up the workshop and engaged chefs from EngChoon, China to teach the skills. Uncle Lim’s mother, octogenarian Madam Khoo Yeoh, has been involved in making noodles since she married into the family at 23 years old. Before there was pipe water supply, she had to draw water from a nearby well. During their childhood, Uncle Lim and his siblings used to sell noodles after school. He had a job in Kuala Lumpur before returning to take over the workshop in the event of his father’s sudden death.

The procedures of noodle manufacturing are not too complicated, compared to the earlier days when kneading is done by hand, the mixture rolled by a wooden pole, and the noodles shredded using knives. Now there is a semi-automatic production line, a diesel stove replaced the woodfire stove for blanching. Even so, the job is deemed less profitable, Madam Khoo discouraged her grandchildren to inherit. In the past there were four such workshops in Kuala Pilah, however they all closed down due to lack of heir. Luckily when Uncle Lim decided to retire, his youngest brother Lim Sze Hian would like to carry on the family business, Khún Mī is still available locally.

Traditional heritage food depends on geographical area and lifestyle practices. Due to globalization and the increasing pace of life, traditional food culture is phasing out. There might still be Khún Mī in Klang, Melaka, or Penang with a majority Hokkien population, however not many people understood its implication.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Video Editor : Michael Lerk
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : Ukulele In Town

COPYRIGHTS 2020 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Bái Táng Gāo (Steamed rice cake), is named for its glittering white appearance, with a moist and smooth surface, and honeycomb-like air tunnels. Its historical roots can be traced from the Ming dynasty in Lunjiao sub district of Shunde city in Guangdong province, also known as Lunjiao cake, a traditional folk snack made from common ingredients. Firstly, rice is pressed into milk, added in flour and sugar, then steamed to be consumed. Steamed rice cake is popular for its velvety texture and sweet fragrance. Due to mass migration to Southeast Asia, steamed rice cake became widespread, and is sold in both morning markets and night markets across Malaysia.

In a home baking workshop at Cheras, 71-year-old Uncle Tan Ah Yew, 43-year-old Tan Lee Yong (Lennon) and family work together busily to produce various cakes for wholesale, including sponge cake, steamed buns, steamed cupcakes, the most renowned being white and brown steamed rice cakes. At 1.30A.M., Uncle Tan delivers cakes produced during the day to the Pudu wholesale market for customers to collect. He then returns home at 5A.M. to prepare ingredients together with his wife, his son takes over the fermentation process while they catch some sleep. As the fermentation completes around noon, father and son dash back and forth the custom-made long steam table, producing trays of cakes despite the lingering heat and vapour. The freshly made cakes require cooling down before slicing and packaging, only then the workday routine ends at 4P.M.

Initially a construction contractor, Uncle Tan’s company went out of business in the mid-80s due to the economic crisis. Despairing, he went to pray at a temple in Ulu Yam, and chanced to encounter an old master whose family business is producing steamed rice cakes, hence he requested to learn the trade. By luck, the old master granted an exception to teach Uncle Tan unreservedly. Steamed rice cakes seem ordinary, yet the procedures involved are complicated, a slight mistake may cause souring, hardening, or turning into a sticky mess. From a layman to mastering the skills of making steamed rice cakes, Uncle Tan devoted an entire year in learning and researching daily, to produce a soft and fluffy end product untainted by sourness. Being the fourth generation successor in the trade, he recovered from financial loss to establish a home baking workshop and paid off debts. Uncle Tan is grateful towards the old master for the favour conferred, always paying him a visit during festivals and giving him tokens of appreciation, until the old master passed away. 

Even though under enormous pressure, Uncle Tan flourished in his second career, his journey over the past few decades has been challenging. Despite slow business during the early stages of his start up, he traveled around to sell his products and expand market reach. Uncle Tan’s cakes are vegetarian-friendly, made without eggs or lard, the soft texture neither hardens nor leaks moisture even after keeping overnight. Therefore he gained reputation and connections, building a stable customer base and order quantity. Most of his customers are school canteen operators, restaurants, and hawkers. During the first day and the 15th day of the lunar month, as well as traditional festivals such as the Hungry Ghosts festival, cakes demand soar due to offering usage. The consumer group of Tan Ah Yew steamed rice cakes range far and wide, from Batu 11 Cheras, Mahkota Cheras, Sungai Long, Kajang, Sungai Chua, Jinjang, to Klang Valley. 

Uncle Tan’s workshop is firmly established, his sons will help out during their free time. His youngest son Lennon used to be a photographer, giving up his ambition due to family sustenance, taking over his father’s business full-time. Although the income from producing cakes would not make him a millionaire, it is enough to make ends meet. Lennon was worried that traditional delicacies may vanish in time, but became assured in carrying on his father’s legacy after meeting other young people in the industry. He aspires to try online marketing and delivery service, so that authentic flavours may still be enjoyed instead of dying out. 

Steamed rice cakes produced with love, wrapped in transparent plastic sheets and old newspapers, deliver traditional flavours. They also contain the Tan family’s hard work and persistent spirit. Even though he has a successor, Uncle Tan has no plans to retire soon, and is still actively involved in cake production. He is still anxious about his inexperienced son whom he deemed unable to work independently, however he praised Lennon’s patience and cherished hopes for business improvement. 

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Video Editor : Evon Pang
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : The Romantic

COPYRIGHTS 2020 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Banting, being the largest collective ginger plantation in Kuala Langat district, has porous black peat soil which is suitable for planting fruits and vegetables. Most villages in the district rely on agriculture as their main economic activity, about 1400 acres of land has been cultivated into ginger plantations by around 50 farmers. Among them, Jenjarom village listed ginger as one of the four local treasures. Due to soil degradation and pollution, there is less favourable farmland in Jenjarom; only a few farmers persist in planting ginger due to poor yields. 

There are two categories of ginger: young ginger, which is harvested around 5½ months; and mature ginger, which is harvested around 8-10 months. As ginger cultivation involves high risks, especially the weather, mature ginger is priced higher, though young ginger is more in demand. The prices per kilogram for mature ginger is between RM15-RM20, while RM4-RM5 for young ginger. Unlike other areas famous for mature ginger (Bentong, Raub), Banting focuses on young ginger cultivation, with high yields and market penetration up to 70% in Malaysia, as well as exports. Apart from young ginger, Banting also produces galangal and turmeric, each with their own flavour and usage. Young ginger is used in cooking chicken and fish, or shred into crispy strips. Galangal has far wider usage, to cook beef, pork, mutton, duck, making satay sauce, and even extracted to make perfume. Besides enhancing flavour, turmeric also imparts colour, mostly used in cooking rice and curry.

77-year-old Tan Ngoo is a senior ginger farmer in Banting, who enjoys starting his daily work at the farm before dawn, taking an hour’s break for lunch, then continuing to work until sunset. Uncle Tan has been helping his father farming vegetables since he was 12 years old, upon adulthood he ventured in cultivating ginger, which has a higher yield compared to other vegetables. One tonne of ginger seed pieces may yield 7-8 tonnes, in a bad crop 3-4 tonnes, which was enough to make ends meet. With decades of experience, Uncle Tan is very knowledgeable in ginger cultivation. He gradually expanded his land from 2 acres to dozens of acres, hiring workers to help in farming, and producing plenty of ginger seed pieces. There are four types of ginger originating from Indonesia, Sabah, Laos, and Vietnam. Sabahan ginger is most popular in Banting, as it is more flavourful and disease-resistant.

Weather plays an important role in ginger cultivation, too little or too much rainfall impacts ginger yields, whereas drought causes maldevelopment or withering. Crop rotation is also critical to preserve the productive capacity of the soil. After harvesting ginger, crops such as corn, bananas, and sweet potatoes are then planted in succession before another batch of ginger. The only exception is galangal which can be continually planted for 3-4 years before crop rotation. Aerial view of the Banting farms shows rectangular plots with a variety of crops. 

As the plots of Banting belong to different landowners or farmers, with limited types of crops which can be planted, the Selangor Coastal Vegetable Farmers’ Association is formed to protect their rights and interests. Whenever farmland becomes flooded, or farmers face land allocation problems, the association helps in dealing with government authorities to work out solutions. Over 200 members of the association cooperate and assist each other, exchanging information and insights in experimental agriculture projects. During harvest, they also unite to negotiate a fair price with distributors.

On the stretches of agricultural land in Banting, Uncle Tan and his four siblings, as well as his son, toil hard in their plots. Together with over 200 members of the Selangor Coastal Vegetable Farmers’ Association, who are like brothers without blood relationship, they make profit through ginger cultivation.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Drone : Daniel Lim
Video Editor : Evon Pang
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : Wedding Film from AShamaluevMusic – YouTube

COPYRIGHTS 2020 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Cockles are indispensable in mouthwatering dishes like sour and spicy assam laksa, rich and redolent curry mee, as well as aromatic and delicious char kuey teow. Its tender flesh has the glowing scarlet of blood, tasty to eat whether simply being boiled or stir-fried in spicy sauce. However, cockle farming is an industry with high risk levels and dependent on ecological environment. Pasir Penambang, a century-old Chinese fishing village located at the western part of Selangor, was famous for cockle farming in the 1990’s, also renowned for its abundance of fresh seafood and marine products.

Pasir Penambang has natural advantages in soil characteristics, with muddy seabanks along the coast, brackish water which is a mixture of freshwater and seawater, as well as plentiful planktonic organisms for cockles to feed on, therefore an ideal breeding ground for juvenile cockles. In addition, diligent care by breeders helped ensure high survival rates as well as plumpness, the breeding scale and output is preceded only by “the capital of cockles” Kuala Sepetang in Perak. In contrast to Kuala Sepetang which mainly exports outstation and overseas, the cockles of Pasir Penambang only cater for local wet markets. 

Having started out as a fisherman since 9 years old, then turned to cockle farming in 1989, Mr Kok Chong Beng (transliteration) is an authority figure in blood cockle farming techniques around Pasir Penambang and even within West Malaysia. Ten years after his retirement, Mr Kok still talks excitedly about blood cockles while sharing his experience in managing breeding sites throughout the years. From juvenile to adult, it takes 14 to 18 months for cockles to mature, in the meantime periodical checks are performed on their growth status, as well as dispersing clustered cockles. 

The insightful Mr Kok acknowledged that in order to be profitable, the survival rates of cockles should be at a minimum of 30%. A fruitful harvest combining quantity and quality ensures impressive profitability. The pinnacle of Pasir Penambang cockle yield was 1995 with an annual supply of 40,000 tonnes, yet steeply declined to around 3,000 tonnes in 2015. Back in the glorious 90’s there were dozens of family-run cockle farms in Pasir Penambang, now only a handful remain.

In recent years, marine pollution such as plastic waste and chemical contamination caused severe harm to the survival of cockles, huge amounts of mud and debris from sea-based construction are washed into breeding sites causing cockles to die from suffocation. Climate changes also raise risks faced in cockle farming, for instance the tsunami which occurred towards the end of 2004 not only brought upon stormy waves but also seabed displacement and erosion, inducing mortality rates of cockles. Moreover, natural cockle spawn are getting increasingly difficult to come across, breeders are forced to import cockle spawn from neighbouring countries, resulting in mortality events due to inability to acclimatize hence unfortunate loss of capital.

As  rising breeding costs induced soaring market price of blood cockles, profiteering occurred through illegal fishing and smuggling, dealing yet another heavy blow to cockle breeders. Suffering from dwindling supplies and severe losses, several cockle breeders across Malaysia chose to switch career paths or close down. Mr Low Kock Seong who continued to strive despite facing various challenges, had to do everything on his own in order to reduce operation costs. Being 42 years old, he is already the youngest cockle breeder in Pasir Penambang.

Once illustrious, cockle farming in Pasir Penambang met with inescapable complications, how would cockle breeders cope with unpredictable possibilities and threats? Dubious whether they could or not prevail, as cockles become increasingly rare, the future of the cockle farming industry is like a candle flickering in the wind, glimmering with uncertainty.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Drone : Daniel Lim
Video Editor : Michael Lerk
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : For A Moment from YouTube

COPYRIGHTS 2020 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Within the row of shophouses beside Simpang Renggam main street, there is a Cendol stall popular with local residents —— Gerai Cendol Sathar. Under the blue canopy, stall owner Ahmad bin Sathar is busy making bowls of snowy fine shaved ice with the ice-shaving machine, topped with fresh green Cendol, brownish Gula Melaka sauce and rich Santan sauce. Among the colourful condiments are maroon candied red beans, pink Sago, golden corn in evaporated milk, as well as the option to add on glutinous rice according to personal preference. All ingredients are made in-house, prepared fresh daily, widely praised by customers and attracts people from near and far.

Sathar Cendol stall operates in the same spot since its establishment, never since relocated. The stall is set up between two shophouses, coincidentally an alley lies behind, therefore simple tables and chairs are placed in the vicinity for customers to be seated while waiting, as well as enjoying the exquisite sweet Cendol. Local residents and neighbouring shop owners achieve a tacit understanding not to drive or park their cars into the alley. A special sentiment flows through this alley, the rustic shaved ice containing fond memories of local residents who enjoy the delicacy since young.

Cendol is a type of jelly made from a mixture of extracted Pandan leaf juice and rice flour, naturally green in colour, originating from Java, Indonesia in the form of a beverage. Cendol has a mellow Pandan taste and a smooth texture, combined with shaved ice, Gula Melaka sauce and Santan sauce for a fresh and cool mouthfeel. In Malaysia’s perpetual summer, it is nice to be able to enjoy a bowl of icy Cendol anytime. Not only is Cendol popular throughout Malaysia, there are also a variety of condiments and eating methods, such as adding in peanuts, cashew nuts, attap fruit, jackfruit, ice-cream, or even durian.

Under the blazing sun, the heavily perspirating Ahmad bin Sathar is currently the fourth generation successor of this family business with over 60 years of history. Ahmad’s great-grandfather migrated to Penang from India during the olden days to seek employment, and learnt the trade from a Javanese. Back then he carried the equipment and condiments on a shoulder pole, selling door-to-door in the villages of Penang to Prai. Afterwards, Ahmad’s grandfather succeeded this trade and went selling Cendol in Teluk Intan, Perak. As he passed away, the third generation successor Sathar, who is Ahmad’s father, shifted southwards to settle down at Simpang Renggam in 1956, establishing his stall with the family trade by selling Cendol on a tricycle.

To make a living in a foreign place is not easy, however generations of Sathar’s family survived and provided for their family with the craft of making Cendol. Sathar perseveres in his only familiar skill, refusing to be underestimated due to being self-employed. Apart from raising ten children, he even managed to open his own Mamak store (Restoran Usaha Berkat). Reminiscing being questioned by government authorities whether he could afford the monthly loan repayment of RM2500, Sathar merely smiled, notwithstanding his bitter struggles where nobody bears witness to. As Sathar’s sons (Ahmad and his brother) succeeded his business, they retained the original stall name out of respect to their father.

The essence of grass-root spirit is tenacity and independence, like a blade of grass, rooted firmly and standing tall even though weather-beaten. Just like Sathar’s family, undeterred by difficulties, working hard to make a living by selling bowls of delicious Cendol.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Video Editor : Amelia Lim
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : Twinkle In The Night

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

In the kitchen at the rear end of the house, the floors are lined with newspapers, the pestle and mortar making crisp sounds while pounding. Grandmother Yap Ah Hwa (transliteration) woke up before dawn, busying herself with preparing ingredients to make red rice wine, from her energetic and smooth workflow it’s hard to discover that she is already 72 years old. This is the red rice wine which every single FúZhōunese household brew on their own, an indispensable ingredient in preparing Fú Zhōu dishes, its unique mellowness a key factor in complementing aroma and taste, coating food with a rosy tint, and also symbolizing good luck during festivals. The familiar native taste did not fade away with migration, instead it increased unity, as well as spreading the intense love for red rice wine to community members from other nativities.

Fú Zhōu red rice wine is a type of Chinese rice wine, made up of three simple ingredients: wine yeast cake, cooked glutinous rice, and specialty red yeast rice produced in the Mǐn region in China. The ingredients are mixed together and inserted into an urn, storing in a cool shaded place for the lengthy brewing process. At the end of the fermentation cycle, the liquid extracted from filtration is red rice wine, and the final residue is called vinasse. Red yeast rice is a type of fermented rice which acquires its colour from being cultivated with the mold Monascus purpureus, with health and nutritional benefits in traditional Chinese medicine of promoting digestion and improving blood circulation.

FúZhōunese make up the majority of the population in Chuah, Negeri Sembilan, where every household withholds the custom of brewing red rice wine by themselves, however the recipes and methods used may differ. Some families will insert the ingredients layer by layer; some add in water; some will add red yeast into rice wine and mix evenly; the length of fermentation also ranges, and the resulting taste varies. Grandma Yap (transliteration) who lives in Kampung Baru Sungai Nipah is particular in the ingredients she uses in brewing red rice wine, ensuring good quality and rich taste, which her family and friends enjoy. Initially, the red yeast rice and wine yeast cake are sun dried and finely pounded in advance, the urn being repeatedly washed and thoroughly dried. When brewing red rice wine, the glutinous rice is cooked and let cool overnight. The next day, all ingredients are mixed evenly, poured into a canvas bag, and tied up tightly. Then the urn is sealed and kept in a cool dry place to ferment for at least 75 days.

When she was young, Grandma Yap (transliteration) learned by asking relatives and friends for advice and doing research, experimenting on her own, never once slacking during the preparation and brewing procedures, therefore her brewing method is extraordinarily successful with a high yield. After fermenting for two months and a half, she could reap ten bottles of red wine, compressing the vinasse till it dries up, without wasting even one drop of red wine, and finally keeps the vinasse. Luck is crucial in brewing red rice wine, depending on favourable conditions for a smooth and successful brew. Some people who are having bad luck will be unsuccessful in brewing, or the yield is low and tastes bad. Other precautions and instructions include: from preparing ingredients, to sun drying the urn to expel residing flavours; some are beware of people who attended funerals, pregnant women, women in their confinement, or menstruating women from approaching the red rice wine they brew.

Embarking on a tipsy culinary journey, experiencing an intoxicating lesson in cultural customs. Over the decades, Grandma Yap’s red rice wine became a familiar and unforgettable fondness of her family, an essence of blended native cultures. Treating family and friends to red rice wine during festive celebrations, using vinasse to cook a table full of reddish Fú Zhōu dishes such as red wine chicken and mee sua, red vinasse pork etc. Acquiring the skills of brewing red rice wine could bring about the continuity of Fú Zhōu dishes over several generations.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Video Editor : Amelia Lim
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : White River

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

The nutty aroma of peanuts, paired with the rich aroma of lard, and a thick mouthfeel, the almost extinct lard cake was a must-have specialty dessert in Fú Zhōu banquets. Within 15 minutes by car from Bukit Pelanduk, at the rear of a sky blue wooden cottage in the village of Tanah Merah Site C, Mr Chong Teck Fong (transliteration) could be sighted busying himself in the kitchen, attentively crafting traditional lard cake. Lard cake, also known as Manchuria cake, is a Fú Zhōu treat made from a mixture of lard, peanuts, sugar, and flour. It is also commonly found in Sitiawan, Perak and Sibu, Sarawak, however the preparation methods and mouthfeel may differ.

In the mid-18th century, the Manchuria Eight Banners army were garrisoned at Fú Zhōu, leaving a plethora of snacks and treats, among them is lard cake, which was rumoured to be a royal dessert. Migrating from Yún Nán, China to Malaysia, Mr Chong’s father mastered the skills of making lard cake in his hometown, even though he set up a swine farm in Malaysia, he continues the craft in supplying banquets, gaining fame due to the familiar native birthplace taste.

The process of making lard cake is complicated and time-consuming, stressing on the quality of ingredients as well as the skills of the chef, requiring at least two days to complete. The ingredients include lard, flour, sugar, peanuts, sesame, and egg, slowly mixed together, poured into a wooden mould, and then steamed. Nowadays, the production of lard cake found in other regions rely on machinery, even substituting lard with vegetable oils, resulting in a shriveled oily cake. Reluctant to affect the mouthfeel and quality of lard cake due to the crude production process, Mr Chong persists in genuine handcrafting, without involving machinery.

First of all, lard is scraped off the pork flesh, cut into small cubes, stir fry and season, mix evenly, add in flour, rub into a paste, then add in sugar to maintain a thick mouthfeel. Peanut is the most laborious ingredient involved, requiring selection of suitably sized peanuts, ensuring the peanuts are evenly heated during stir frying, then pick out peanuts with the same cookedness and colour to crush. These procedures take a lot of patience to be completed smoothly.

The advice of Mr Chong’s late father on how to make lard cake still rings in his ears, especially how to determine the suitable cube size when cutting the lard. As Mr Chong starts to learn making lard cakes in his middle-aged years, dispersed together with the lard cake aroma wafts are strands of discreet yet earnest love from his father, hugging him in an embrace. Time flies without leaving any trace, reminiscence and missing the family becomes more apparent. On the annual mark of his father’s death day, Mr Chong always makes lard cake as a tribute to his late father.

The wooden moulds made by Mr Chong himself have removable corners to ease taking out the end product of lard cakes; underneath the wooden pane are small holes to eliminate excess fat so that the mouthfeel would not be too oily. The length of steaming duration depends on the volume, as well as affecting the oiliness, where extending the duration may eliminate more excess fat, however steaming for too long will cause dryness to the lard cake. As the piping hot lard cake is removed from the steaming pot, it needs to be cooled down to set before cutting into inch-size cubes, so that it won’t stick to the knife.

The 60-year-old Mr Chong is the only person in his family to master the skill of making lard cakes, besides worrying about the continuity of lard cakes, he is also uneasy about people lacking the will to learn and persistence in enduring the strenuous traditional making process, therefore he has not passed on the skill to anyone yet. As tides of time sweep through, will this centuries-old legacy regain its glory?

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Video Editor : Evon Pang
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : The Path from Serenity Studio – YouTube

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

As dawn breaks, there is still mild fogs throughout the air, dewdrops rolling down from the tips of leaves. Husband and wife, Lim Boon Seng (transliteration) and Loke Yuet Kwai (transliteration), parked their motorcycle aside, heading into the bushes after getting their stuff and tools ready. In what seemed to be thickets overgrown with weeds, both husband and wife utilise their sharp eyesight and deft hands, each holding a sack in one hand, while the other hand accurately picking fiddlehead ferns growing among the bushes and weeds.

Fiddleheads are wildgrown foliage, the young shoots curling inwards, looking like dainty commas or question marks, belonging to the family of edible shrubs (ferns), also known as Diplazium esculentum. They generally grow at moist, watery but sunny guttersides, having incredible vitality and wide adaptability. Common edible parts are the curly tips of young shoots and upper stems which are more delicate. Fiddleheads are nutrient-rich, boasting of high mineral content, high protein, high fibre etc. After cooking, its texture is smooth with a little mucilage, its mouthfeel crispy without any trace of bitterness.

Growing naturally in the wild, fiddleheads have a strong resistance, after the rain, they grow tenaciously in broad stretches, full of vitality as in the poem “undestroyable by fire, growing again when the breeze blows”. Nowadays, urban development and environmental pollution, as well as artificial cultivation and pesticides, are unsuitable for the growth of fiddleheads. They are only found growing wild in swampy wetlands, a type of foliage popular with rural villagers and indigenous folk. Due to the wide distribution and diversity of Diplazium esculentum, they have different names and nicknames across all regions, such as paku vegetables, wild ferns, perennial ferns, tsuen choi, midin (East Malaysia), lynx (Taiwan), sayur paku, pucuk paku, fiddleheads etc.

The hot sun shining above their heads, the ground beneath their feet humid, the 70-year-old Lim Boon Seng (transliteration) and his 67-year-old wife Loke Yuet Kwai (transliteration) each bearing one or two sacks full of fiddleheads, as well as ripe cassava harvested along the way, loading onto their motorcycle, ready to trade with restaurants or customers who placed orders. The both of them stay in Bukit Pelanduk, giving up swine farming 20 years ago in consequence of the Nipah virus outbreak tragedy, shifting towards the agricultural industry such as planting cassava and yam to make a living, one of their activities being gathering fiddleheads.

Due to the growing environment and distinctive feature of fiddleheads, there are certain dangers in the gathering process. Apart from preventing bugs and mosquitoes bites, there is need to constantly staying alert, taking precautions against attacks from snakes, lizards and wild bees which often inhabit the wild. Besides, to ensure a consistent supply of fiddleheads, the duo will walk around in search of suitable thickets, some of them as far as 20 minutes away by car. There are a few regular locations where they take routine care and manage properly to facilitate continual growth and ease gathering.

After the disaster brought upon by the Nipah virus outbreak, Lim Boon Seng (transliteration) and Loke Yuet Kwai (transliteration) and their family pull themselves back together, returning to their home in the village to seek an alternative way in making a living, their unyielding spirit similar to wildgrown fiddleheads, determined to survive.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Drone : Daniel Lim
Video Editor : Evon Pang
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : Beautiful & Emotional from MorningLightMusic – YouTube

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD