Makcik-makcik Koporat

Saved by my old name card, we managed to gain entrance to today’s session of MIHAS which was still meant for businesses and traders. It would only be opened to the public tomorrow and Sunday but we whacked it, as I am always busy on weekend. So there we were, myself and L.H spending half our Friday at the world’s biggest halal trade fair.

Image taken from here.

I was very impressed with the whole expo management. Things were efficiently done and the booths were well located and arranged. Halal businesses big and small from Malaysia and the world over made their presence known. Food and product sampling aplenty. I was literally like a kid in a candy store. So many interesting things I never even knew existed was out for sampling like pegaga facial cream and other herbs made into teas, lotion, cream and soaps and what nots. I got full just walking from one booth to another sampling food. It is very heartwarming to see kampung products and other cottage industries, especially those run by womenfolks getting international recognition and demands.

Many international halal brands were there too, especially meat products from America and Australia/NZ, halal certified Belgian chocolates etc. There were booths by women who are especially good in cooking and are supported by MATRADE under the Usahawan Wanita scheme. Many lady business owners were there to share their experiences with us their success stories from just homemakers who got their talents into the next level by going into this scheme and became really successful doing things they like to do.

It’s really nice to see Malaysian womenfolk not having to waste time and money lighting up fires and burning their bras to make their mark as able members of the society. They were smart enough to go to MATRADE, join the scheme and let their talents and products known. Hence, that’s why I bought so much from the expo today. ( ho ho )– to support them.

Errm, Is that a good enough reason to explain the 5 bags full of shopping I came back home with, to the husband ?

A shack in Kampung Bharu

‘… I feel like having Nasi Lemak Antarabangsa @ Kampung Bharu. Want to come ? ‘ So said the sms from BroN. BroN is in town to attend the MIHAS trade fair, and as usual, he needed his fix of non-sterile eating places which have since extincted from our hometown.

BroN and I went back a long way, where he was very much a mentor and the elder brother figure in the association I have been part of since I was a kid. Through those wonderful years, we have worked together to invite scholars from the world over to come and give public/in house/closed door lectures and/or discourses on our little island.

So at around 10-ish last night, we fetched BroN from the hotel. He was not alone but came to KL with one of the teachers from his school. This teacher, a Morrocan carries the citizenship of my hometown due to his marriage, have lived in Kedah for 6 years but speaks Bahasa like a native Indonesian. And he teaches Arabic in my hometown now. Globalisation, yes?

The 4 of us went to Kampung Bharu, to a shack which says Nasi Lemak Antarabangsa. Neither the husband nor I have been there before. For a first timer, I was observing intently the things around. It was 11 pm when we arrived but the shack didn’t look as though it was closing anytime soon. In fact, a huge container of sambal was just sent out from the kitchen. People were queuing, most seats were taken. There were also many huge pots and baskets on the counter. In the pots there were sambal sotong, rendang and their signature sambal. In the baskets there were crispy fried chicken, thinly sliced paru goreng garing-garing, bergedil, telur rebus, telur goreng and a container full of crispy ikan bilis. And people just kept on coming.

Sitting down facing the street, I saw Kampung Bharu at night. In a while, the mat rempits made their sporadic appearance. On their motor kapcai and colourful helmets, they rode noisily across the narrow street, whistling cat calls to the groups of mak nyahs walking past. From where I sat, Menara KL seemed almost within within reach. So near yet so far. The shack, a wooden warung is as humble as it could be with no frills tables and chairs. The waiters were very prompt and its owner, a smartly-dressed man in his 40s went around to see that customers were attended to. In one corner, I noticed a dignified looking group of ‘pakciks‘. Well-dressed but very exhausted looking. When they left, I saw that their vehicle was branded Kerajaan Negeri Sabah. Ahaks…another long,long day at Parliament I guess.

Well the for the novelty, the nasi lemak was quite good. Nothing spectacular but yes, the rice was cooked well- nice and fluffy just the way I like it. The sambal was nice but not spicy enough for me. I had a plate of nasi lemak with crispy paru and sambal sotong- (the janggut part) thrown it. I succumbed to the temptation of midnight supper and threw my diet plan down the nearby longkang.

In between mouthfuls, I asked BroN about how things are back home. As usual, the topics of price increase and the influx of PRCs coming into the island, making it their new home came first. Like, what’s new? Every other visitor from back home talks only about these two things these days and on the latter, with great disdain. Then the men started talking about everything else–Malaysia, post elections, philosophies and other stuffs, while my eyes continued to roam and observe every minute detail of the surrounding.

While my eyes were busy, my ears were not idle either. I did listen to the conversation happening at our table as well. Usually at dinner table talks, I prefer to just listen. Listening allows me to really analyze whatever anyone is saying, study their body language and think of where they are coming from when they put their opinions across. Well last night, I was studying/reading the teacher. Simply because, he’s new to me while I am married to the husband and have known BroN for yonks.

Anyway, whatever they talked about sort reminded me of what Imam Al-Ghazzali said in his book My Dear Beloved Son. He told his son, ” My dear beloved son ! Knowledge without action is madness and action without knowledge is useless ! “.

Oh well…In the light of the mad and useless world we seem to be living in now, I think it is best I seek refuge in a plate of Nasi Lemak Antarabangsa @ Kampung Bharu, with its grime, the sights of mat rempits and maknyahs and down it with a cup of hot teh O halia.

It’s nice having visitors from back home. Somehow they seem to know more of where to lepak compared to us living here.

In liberal doses

Many thoughts are going through in my mind that need to be consolidated. I have not been having good sleep for the past 4 days post fever and I am not quite sure why. I have been falling asleep at around 3 almost daily and have been having really tired days.

Today, after belly dancing class, the teacher and I talked about the book I lent her, The Book of Sufi Healing.

Written by the Sufi Shaykh of the Chisty Tariqa, we must have had this book in our library for the longest time but I have yet to read it. After class today, I looked through it and read snippets of it and yes, it is very interesting, especially on what to eat for what kind of illness. So I learnt that since I am shortsighted I should avoid cauliflower as it is bad for the vision, and to also eat more melons because the Prophet (peace be upon him) said that ‘ Whenever you eat fruit, eat melon, because it is the fruit of Paradise and contains a thousand blessings’ and many other food for thought-literally.

Still on food, I attempted making cupcakes yesterday from my humble tiny oven, so that I can start taking orders for cakes again, especially cheesecakes. But alas, it didn’t give the desired outcome and the top of the cuppies turned crispy while the inside is not that cooked yet. I tried several batches and some were ok, some were not so I’d rather save up and invest in a new oven-for later.

Yesterday we read on The Star about the Mexican-Malaysian Restaurant which had just opened in Bukit Bintang. It looks good and probably one day we would go for it, amongst the others in our list. A year ago or so, the husband and I were toying joking with the idea of opening up a Javanese+German fusion cafe called TEMPE & SAUERKRAUT… but of course, it was just one of those nonsensical moments we share in the car in a bad traffic.

So Raja Petra wants to the be Gandhi of blogsphere, aye ? Macam-macam…

As it is probably apparent, my thoughts are in varying spectrum and dimensions and so are my writings today so probably, it is best I stop now. Focusing, especially with the severe lack of sleep is not my forte.

Pak Sifu Bersuara Lagi

Watching news these days, especially on local politics is like watching sinetron. You know, the Indonesian tele-dramas which go on and on. Or, maybe even Dallas Dynasty.

Last night on TV 3 news, we watched Karpal Singh displayed his sinetron prowess in parliament. Can real work begin with all these drama ? I wonder.

I was listening to M.Nasir’s cd Phoenix Bangkit while editing. In the song Phoenix Bangkit Dari Abu, he wrote/sang :

Bina jambatan menuju ke seberang
Melangkah jurang lebar dan dalam
Dengan darah dan keringat
Dengan airmata berpegang pada taliNya

Rapatkan saf semangatmu jangan goyah
Kota yang telah roboh harus dibina semula
Atas dasar kebenaran demi kita demi waris
Semua serangan yang datang kita tangkis

Jangan kau gentar pada bayang-bayang sendiri
Di sebalik pahit getir kemenangan menanti
Bagaikan burung Phoenix bangkit dari abu
Bangkit membina (semula) satu keindahan (baru)

Phoenix bangkit
Bina jambatan menuju keseberang
Dengan darah keringat dan airmata oh…
Melangkah ke seberang ke tanah yang dijanjikan
Dirindukan
Demi cinta tiada lain demi cinta

….can this ’sifu’ please get the new wakil rakyats to see this meaning in the new governance of Malaysia ?

Joie de Vivre

The year started with the German Film Festival and sometime later, the Iranian Film Festival.

This week will see the coming of French Film Festival and my diary has been carefully marked. Back in my hometown I used to have to travel from the east side of the island to the central to Alliance Francaise to attend the French Film Festival but I am glad that here, Golden Village International Screen in a mere 10 minutes walk away from home.

While German films are full of heavy set themes and dark humour, Iranian films are simple in plot but deep in message, over the years I have seen the pattern of French films being culturally rich but sexually morbid. This time round, however there are a few comedies thrown in so yeah, I am looking forward to this week.

The fever is gone and I am ready to roar.

Au revoir !

The dining table conversation

Husband: Do you think one day there will be a Malaysia?

Me: I think so. There will still be a Malaysia, but whose Malaysia and what kind of Malaysia.

Munch. munch. munch.

Friend ( 47 year old American from Chicago ) : Where will the Malays go then ?

Me : huh ?

Friend : Well, let’s just say to put it simply. The Chinese here have China, the Indians have India- just to put it very, very simply without any other connotations to it, where will the Malays go then? If the Malays lose their land, will there still be Malaysia ?

munch. munch. munch.

silence.

munch. munch.munch.

silence.

Me: I am from down south where years ago they gave away Tanah Melayu to some Socialistic minded leader and honestly speaking, no one can proclaim or bother to really make an effort of that island to have any close resemblance to anything remotely Malayu in this day and age. In a way, that is why I am glad to be here. But if there is no Malaysia anymore, well then people like me just have to remember what is a Malay and what is being a Malay all about. It is up to Malaysia Malays to determine that. I am, but a foreigner commenting from the outside.

___________________________________________

All 3 of us on that dinner table carry 3 different passports, with one common worry. Whatever is Malaysia turning into, now ?

When Laksamana Hang Tuah made the famous speech where he proudly proclaimed ‘ Takkan Melayu hilang di dunia? ‘ did it ever cross his mind that one day Malaysia will be in this state of nonsense ?

Meine Samstag

They’ve finally opened near our place. It was full to the brim. The novelty of eating in a Forest Gump themed cafe is still going strong so we gave it a pass. We live 5 minutes drive from it so we have plenty of time to try it out. And yes, it will be one of our target restaurants to bring our guests to as well ( especially if you are a guest from my hometown )

Image taken from here.

Borders is having a sale. So thanks to the husband, we came out of it with

and

I borrowed Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time from a friend. It’s a tale written from the perspective of an autistic child. I found that book amazing, because I’ve watch the movie The Snow Cake where Sigourney Weaver played the autistic adult in Canada and thought to myself, if only an autistic adult can write a book, we will all know how they see things. So naturally, I would want to read the follow up, A Spot of Bother.

Then The Roots of the Malay Left, a UM publication and finally the last one, The Power of Your Subconscious Mind by Dr Joseph Murphy. As for the last book, it’s for my daily decreasing mojo. I need to snap out of it pronto. Like right now…

Each time we go shopping for books, I remember the good old times hanging out here.

A very cosy bookshop that carries all our of Sufistic/Spiritual books and other English traditional Islamic books. A place with nice sofas and tasteful decor that we can just lepak while reading and listening to nice soothing zikr. The owner is on the right, wearing white. The shop is owed by a husband and wife team and alhamdulillah, they are dear friends of ours too. The wife went to the same secondary school as I did and her husband was my husband’s saksi or witness at our nikah.

In fact, now that I think about it, in our courting days, I never get any of those chocolates or flowers or surprises of candlelight dinners and what not. The husband was then an engineer drilling for oil on rigs in some god-forsaken places. So via them, he sent works of Rumi and Idries Shah and Al Ghazzali etc to me, for our long distance courtship. They called him their ‘wandering dervish’ friend, whom I later married and still living a wandering life with. It helps that their bookshop is also an online bookshop, so it worked for us perfectly fine considering the distance and the 7 seas that separated us each time he was on a drilling project.

I’m done blogging to distract myself from the fever and flu. So what now?

Chicken Rice Story

Chicken Rice is a fool proof dish. If there is nothing I fancy at any eating place here or back home, I just go for the safe choice of chicken rice. Basically knowing what to expect when the dish comes. But there isn’t any chicken rice that I can say THE chicken rice.

When I was young, there was this chicken rice restaurant called the Restaurant Alfiah. The owners were Indian Muslim. They sold the best chicken rice I could remember. The chicken meat, marinated in black soya sauce was succulent. The kind you want to suck on the bones long after you have munched the chicken flesh dripping with soya sauce with smacking lips and oily fingers. Their rice was fluffy and their chilli sauce was perfect.

Restaurant Alfiah was always full. Back then when not many could afford fancy restaurants for celebrations mini or otherwise, families would throng there for any celebration… children doing well in school or ‘open-table’.. family gatherings etc. Or just when Mum’s not cooking. Each trip there I remember was something to look forward to. Our chicken rice would come with the sayur chap chai and as much as vegetables not being my most favourite, their sayur chap chai was irresistible.

Thinking of chicken rice from Alfiah brings back many wonderful fond memories. I loved it when we packed the Alfiah chicken rice home. They were packed in green boxes and inside, the chicken rice would be wrapped in plain square plastic sheet. A small packet of chili sauce packed in a small plastic packet would be included inside. To eat, one usually had to bite off the corner of the plastic packet and the chili sauce would either ooze out or purge out, depending on your biting skills. Sniff the aroma of the crispy fried chicken on perfectly fluffy rice, squirt the chili sauce all over and that’s it.. devoured it with my hands. Classic.

Restaurant Alfiah is no longer existing. I couldn’t find any other with the same standard. Not any more. After Alfiah, any other chicken rice to me is just mediocre…

This chicken rice was made using the Sarawak beras ANDA, which is semi sticky like beras pulut. I don’t quite like it as I like chicken rice fluffy so I use beras basmati to cook my chicken rice.

Both pictures taken from the Singapore Chicken Rice Restaurant, Miri Sarawak.

Tis’ a season to be

..ill. There are so many people I know who have been down and out for some illness or the other. Fever, flu and anything else.

A friend called yesterday. Her son’s birthday doa selamat event is today and she is unwell. So I offered to cook for the event. That was yesterday afternoon. I thought, my common flu will just go away with some rest. But it turned out that the flu turned to fever. But since I’ve promised, I dragged myself to the market this morning and through the fever managed to produce 4 dishes. Boleh lah tu. I know not how they taste like cause I was flat out right after that.

Actually I got up to drink some water and take some homeopathy pills to bring my temperature down. But I saw my notebook and was lured here instead.

Marahkan Nyamuk Kelambu Di Bakar

We were watching the Parliamentary telecast on the midnight news. Ruckus was not quite apt to describe it. Circus more like it. Did Malaysia vote a group of leaders who knows not the meaning of decorum, ethics, manners, emotional management and dignity ?

They were calling yelling each other degrading names in parliament.

I think my kitten’s cat fights have more class, really.

It’s going to be a long, long 4 years, Malaysia.