Malacca roundabout

When my friends broached the topic of a day trip to Malacca during one weekend, I was thrilled!  Malacca… the name itself conjured images of history in my head. I think it must be those fuzzy lines in my history books during my grade school days that spurred all the excitement.  I do have a faint recollection of encountering the name of the place among the passages describing the spice route, the spice trade, Moluccas and Magellan’s erstwhile “discovery” of the Philippines. Of course, any place that’s in my dusty old history book is by default on my list. Geekiness prevailed, and naturally, I was thrilled to pay Malacca a visit.

Malacca is this charming port town in the southwestern coast of Malaysia, which is listed as a UNESCO world heritage site. I was looking for history and culture, and I was not disappointed. Everywhere are visual representations of a unique blend of history and cultural influences- Malay, Chinese, Portuguese, Dutch. Evidence abound from the elegant Nyonya kebayas being displayed in shops, to the food, to the churches and temples, to the architecture, to the old ruins.  Old forts, crumbling walls, pink buildings, a Dutch graveyard, and an old stone church that once held St. Francis Xavier’s remains- all these whisper of a “once upon a time” and tell tales of a rich and colorful past.

Christ Church

And then, of course, there was the focal point: food. One thing very interesting about Malacca is its cusine. The intermarriage between Malays and Chinese resulted in what is known as the Baba-Nyonya cuisine- that unique fusion of flavors held together by love which, because of the spices, left me with a warm fuzzy feeling that radiated from my innards to my limbs like the warm sunshine. Forget about the fusion cooking in restaurants. Malaccans have been perfecting fusion cuisine long before it became all the rage in commercial dining. We had several dishes like assam pork, which was marinated pork with tamarind sauce; otak-otak, which was ground fish paste wrapped in banana leaves and then steamed; steamed whole fish; pork spare ribs, among others. I could only describe the food as… happy, with love on the menu. It seemed to me the kind that your grandma would cook in her kitchen. Filled to capacity, we did not even get to sample classic Malacca treats like chicken rice ball, Portuguese egg tarts, Devil’s curry and the famed pineapple tarts. We did try, though, the  famous ABC- Ais Baba Chendol, which was a dessert made with your choice of sweet preserves and sago, topped with shaved ice and drizzled with coconut milk and sugar syrup made of Gula Melaka. Having been fed, I meandered, soaking up the culture and the sun, a sated and happy traveler.

Steamed fish, otak-otak, asam pork (pork in tamarind sauce), cuttlefish.

My friends and I skipped about town- from one shophouse to another, to temples where we could hear monks chanting, to an art gallery where we chatted with the artist himself, to a rotating observation tower that went up and down several stories high. And I ate my way through Malacca. And I hammed it up for the camera, three snapshots for every bite taken.

I would not mind going there for a second time. And staying a bit longer.

My transition into Malaysian living came rather easily. I was fortunate enough to have been given a warm welcome by my compatriots from work. I also became fast friends with a couple of locals during my first few days of stay. This meant that I automatically had my designated lunch buddies, and was spared from the morose business of dining alone.

Three things I had vowed to sample the moment I stepped on Malaysian soil: nasi lemak, nasi goreng and teh tarik.  Of  the nasi lemak, I was overwhelmed. Upon seeing the rice with coconut milk, and the fried ikan bilis (anchovies), plus the peanuts, the sambal chili sauce and the egg, I backed out, pleading heart attack. To this day, I still have yet to sample nasi lemak. I will probably do so once I have fully prepared with lots of cardio strengthening and fat-burning exercises (eating is very much like a marathon, you see).

Nasi goreng, on the other hand, was more familiar territory. Not since the cultivation of rice and the discovery that it can be prepared by frying and mixing with almost any ingredient imaginable did people also start to come up with so many varieties. There was nasi goreng with chicken, with vegetables, with sardines, with prawns- name it, and it can be done.  And oh, I had  a field day! I seemed to have an unwritten goal of sampling out all the nasi goreng variants there were on the cafeteria menu. They fried and fried, and with a side sauce of chili, oh how I ate and ate!  It sure was comfort food. One thing I have noticed in Malaysia, though, is that there seemed to be no shortage of rice! The food servers at our local cafe seemed to have the understanding that I was queueing for carbo loading. I practically had heaping plates everytime. I sometimes felt that I was being fed by an overzealous aunt eager to showcase her fried rice extravaganza.  And I was only too happy to oblige. After a month of the usual fare, I finally had to surrender and give myself up to South Beach diet phase 1, fearing that I might be approaching the Michelin Bibendum’s waistline.

But one thing that I have been addicted to, and still am at the moment, is the sweet and creamy teh tarik. There is just nothing like the hand pulled kind prepared by your friendly neighborhood mamak (24 hour eatery) stall. The consistency, the smoothness, the ratio of the creamer and condensed milk to the tea- these are all very difficult to capture in an instant cup, I must say.  If you are a purist looking for gourmet teh tarik, I say, go mamak. It is almost always the real deal- authentic and prepared in a multi-step process, but without all that frou-frou. I just had to have a cup (or two!) during tea break.

On the whole, traveling to Malaysia is as much an adventure as sampling its food. And I for one, am merely scratching the surface. Here’s looking forward to more good eats.