Instructions
With the benefit of hindsight I can’t explain why I had never visited Malaysia before, it just never made the list. Yet my recent trip was a real eye-opener: Malaysia is wonderfully traditional and excitingly modern all in the one package. But for all its beauty, I was most thrilled about the food. It combines the best of traditional Malay cuisine, with the finest Chinese cooking.
To find the real essence of Malay food means venturing out of the polished heart of downtown Kuala Lumpur. This can be a challenge in itself, because despite the Malaysians’ national love of rules and order, the roads are anarchic. Cars are stacked five abreast on three-lane roads, with scooters bounding along the median strips. Traffic lights seem optional and drivers think nothing of mounting a kerb to overtake.
Yet it’s in the rickety backstreets that you’ll find the traditional vendors who are the soul of old Malaysia. There’s rendang curry sellers, otak merchants with their banana leaf-wrapped fish, and all kinds of grilled chicken wings for sale. But most famous of all are the satay stands.
Satay originated in Indonesia, but soon spread throughout South East Asia. Today, regional variations of satay are entirely distinct, and within Malaysia there are two prominent styles: Kajang and Nonya.
Satay Kajang is most commonly made with skewered chicken. The meat is marinated with a light mixture of curry and spice before being grilled over a coal fire. An aromatic peanut sauce is then spooned over the top to serve. This is the style that emerged from the indigenous Malay kitchens.
Nonya is the name given to the blend of Malay and Chinese cooking that emerged in the 19th century around the Penang rubber plantations. It reflects the Chinese predilection for sweeter and more perfumed foods, often incorporating pineapple, tamarind or mango into dishes. In Nonya satay, street sellers will often marinate the chicken or lamb in mashed durian fruit, before grilling or poaching. A sauce is then offered on the side, and the Nonya satay sauce will always include a sweeter taste, usually pineapple.
The essential informality of the satay vendors is a key part of their charm. Locals gather around the stands at the end of evening prayers, trading stories between bites. It’s right there that you’ll find the real Malaysia: charming, hospitable and irresistibly delicious.
Satay Kajang with light peanut sauce