Melbourned

Melbourne, here I am fifteen and a half hours since arrival. The eight hour long flight did not feel like an eternity. Maybe my back has been molded to fill the AirAsia seats nicely after all this while, or maybe I was seated next to a pretty white girl instead of a sweaty, pimpled teenager tapping away on a PSP. The long wait at the baggage claim feels like an instant in retrospect. The taxi ride on the way back to the city was probably the only thing that affected my emotions due to the meter that skips a few dollars every time I look away.

Arriving back at the apartment felt like returning home after a tiring game of mahjong or a heavy dinner. Opening that clean, snow white door is probably an invitation to a routine. Walking to class and back, cheap a la carte Chinese food for dinner, listening to the same old music, watching old episodes of American series, refreshing Facebook every half minute. All those thoughts came to my mind as I walked in a state of apathy into the place I left vacant three months ago.

After waking Keith up while changing bedsheets and pillowcases, I played around with his electric guitar that lacked an E string, then fiddled with his new Tamron lens. Other than that, life is pretty much back to where it was.

Wanting to break the routine with increased productivity, at least for the coming month, I made a to-do list which I would most likely disregard sooner than desired. So far, I have crossed off payment of bills and revising one chapter of French. I had also, for the first time, cleaned my bathroom.

University life also did not feel any different. My first class of the semester, a French tutorial with only five students in it felt a bit strange. The tutor thought the class was at 3.15 while the students thought it was 2.15. In the end, most of the students left save five. Three of the five took French in VCE and were a lot more fluent than those who took French Beginners back in year one. Due to lack of practice, my French is very rusty by now. Looks like I will have to work harder.

Merde.

The Reluctant Return

Some say leaving home for the first time is the hardest. For me, I have already experienced leaving home on four occasions and I am about to face the fifth a few hours from now. From what I gather, it only gets harder each time.

When I left for Melbourne for the first time two years back, I had little or completely no hard feelings. I was strutting into that bright red AirAsia A330 with gusto and sky-high spirits, anticipating of what was in store for me in this new place I had heard so much about but had never seen before.

Today, much of that freshness has worn off.

Furthermore, there is still much for me to miss in Malaysia. After all, home is where the heart is.

I will have to admit that family rises above all the things in mind. Mom's constant nagging, heated disapproval and eventually the helpless acceptance of my behaviour; dad's persistent attempts to bond and his wisdom conveyed in silence; cheh's relentless jabs at my (non-existent) ego and her expression of relief when she has me to share her thoughts with; kong kong's doting and his series of advices; and just the presence and concern of family members mean so much to me. After spending a good three months with them, the thought of being in their absence for four months weighs my heart down.

In second place would be the food. Although I have been (over) indulging, gaining five kilos in the process, and have ticked off most of the boxes in my to-eat list, I still look forward to my next meal in Malaysia.

Farewell dinner: Balitong and Hokkien Mee

I understand that the reluctance in leaving is short lived and once I am back in Melbourne and not left with a choice of returning, I can do little other than sobering up and trying my best to enjoy the time I have there.

Inevitably, there will also be times when the thoughts about home will creep back into mind but that is the pain I have to live with. Perhaps I would find succour instead of agony in these thoughts in times of need.

Until next time, selamat tinggal Malaysia.

No Name Seafood Restaurant

Remember the name, or lack thereof.

Interesting name for a restaurant, eh? Do not be fooled by the unassuming name. No Name is a name you ought to remember.

No Name is the kind of restaurant you would not stumble upon, unless you got lost in one of the housing areas deep in the heart of Pengkalan where it happens to be in. Dad found out about the restaurant from a friend, who happens to be the father of the restaurant owner.

If I am not mistaken, the first time I had dinner at No Name was back in 2007. Back then it was a single shop, with few customers and a friendly lady boss standing at the counter near the entrance of the shop greeting customers with a sincere smile; today, the shop is twice the size and so is the crowd, but the lady boss is still there with her signature smile. Some things have changed but the excellent quality of the food stays.

The older half of No Name.

That should be enough background information.

We usually dine at No Name with family friends. Today, however, there are only four people dining, hence the limited number of dishes I can review.

Fried Choi-tam (Brussels sprouts)

First up is the fried choi-tam. I have tasted better but this one is above average I would say. Nothing much to say here.

Deep-fried egg tofu with minced pork.

A common dish found in most, if not all Chinese restaurants, deep-fried egg tofu with minced pork. Many restaurants can achieve a delicate balance between crispy tofu skin and a soft interior. However, No Name takes it up a notch with the secret sauce which makes this dish put those of other restaurants to shame. The minced meat is also just right. Moist and juicy from being soaked in a light amount of the savoury sauce, the minced meat makes a perfect complement for the less salty tofu. This dish is definitely a must-eat.

Steamed pomfret.

I would not call No Name's steamed fish the best, but it is definitely one of the better. Usually, steamed fish is drenched in sauce that can match the saltiness of brine. No Name's fish sauce is a bit light on the palette, but nowhere near bland. However, for today, which is out of the ordinary, the fish lacked freshness.

The flagship dish: fried crabs with salted egg yolk.

Last but not least, No Name's signature fried crabs with salted egg yolk. Words cannot describe accurately how good this dish tastes. For years, No Name has been the benchmark for this dish and it still is so. It is hard if not impossible to delineate the wonderful burst of flavours as the tongue comes into contact with a full pinch of solid, fresh crab meat dipped into the buttery yet chunky salted egg yolk sauce. This dish is by far the most superior among that of all restaurants I have ever ordered this dish at. It is, for a lack of a better word, epic. It is most definitely the best thus far. Enough said.

The next best thing, or the best thing if you are a cheapskate, is the price. The meal cost us RM125.50 including rice and drinks. We paid RM38 for two crabs, RM66.50 for a huge pomfret, RM8 for the tofu and RM6 for the choi-tam.

The downside of having a dinner at No Name is definitely the fact that the restaurant is so hard to find. Had No Name been in a less secluded location, the business would be better by leaps and bounds. On the flip side, there might be a compromise in quality if there is a crowd. I guess you cannot have the best of both worlds.

Restoran Makanan Laut No Name

No. 20, Jalan Pengkalan Indah 5,

Bandar Pengkalan Indah,

31650 Ipoh,

Perak.

Tel: 017-5088523/012-5673115

Chinese New Year 2011

Beware: Long post below

Chinese New Year has always been a period of conflicting emotions for me. On the one hand, I look forward to Chinese New Year, expecting family togetherness, a week-long festival of eating, drinking, gambling and attempting the absurd; on the other hand, I hate the potential disappointment that future Chinese New Years can bring. Experience from recent years shows that the past few Chinese New Years pale in comparison to those of the good old days.

This year may be the year of the rabbit, but I surely was not hopping joyfully in anticipation of Chinese New Year. I lowered my expectation by a great margin and swore that no matter how bad Chinese New Year may be, I would not lose any sleep over it. Fortunately, the New Year turned out to be nothing like I pictured it to be.

Ironically, the most important day in the 15-day long festival is New Year’s Eve. This is because reunion dinner is held on this day. Theoretically, every member of the extended family gathers for a feast. Chinese societies are usually patrilineal so the married females would gather at their in-laws' place. However, the domineering women on my mother's side, my mother including, would never let that happen.

Spot the domineering women.

Reunion dinner this year was hosted by jee ee, my mom's second sister. Before the dinner, there was much of the usual mingling going on. Christopher and I playing around with the camera, Sunita trying to read her book among a cacophony of chatter, mom and jee ee in the kitchen and the rest of the family just making loud noises in the background.

Scoring some artistic shots.

Black and white candids.

The eccentric extended family photos.

Experimental photography.

Toilet humour.

The downright disturbing.

Unlike typical Chinese families who eat proper Chinese food during Chinese New Year, mine feast on salted chicken that looks unfit even for dogs (kay char iam), meat in thick, black, sweet sauce along which looks nowhere as good as it sounds along with rubberised eggs (kay hong) and traditional Malay food like rendang, acar and keropok.

Would your dog eat this?

The good shit. Almost literally based on appearance.

Hari Raya?

Some acar to improve our appetite.

Look! Chinese food!

These people ate all of the above.

First day of Chinese New Year means an abundance of red: old people still making a point to wear red, red packets, ten ringgit notes on the gambling table and of course red underwear to assist the process of acquiring those notes. It also means taking boring old family photos. Deciding that the old ways only produced fake smiles had to go, much to the chagrin on jee ee, the fake smile expert, we tried candids!

True smiles.

My favourite family photo thus far.

The next day, we embarked on a journey to my hometown, Kuala Terengganu. I was pretty hesitant on going back as we usually spend most of the time visiting distant relatives that I cannot remember or have not met. Coming from a small town like K.T., I have hundreds, literally, of relatives that my parents and grandfather keep in touch with. Visiting relatives is such a chore to me that I dread going back to K.T. Sure, angpows make a good monetary incentive but above that I prefer spending the meagre amount of time I have with close relatives. It is common sense to me, quality over quantity.

Lucky for me, the trip to K.T. was a short one, hence an unprecedented plummet in the number of visiting we had to do. We did visit the more significant, as I would say, relatives like my father’s siblings, grandfather’s siblings and cousins. Yes, that is the definition of significant to Terengganu folks. I was quite happy as we spent more time with close relatives instead of visiting my grandfather’s cousin’s uncle’s son-in-law or something like that. On the way from Kuala Lumpur to Terengganu, we stopped by my da gu, dad’s sister’s house for the usual gathering. Other than having a rare opportunity to meet my paternal relatives, da gu’s hot pot broth (boiled fish, chicken, pig bones and pig stomach) is to die for.

Savouring the soup.

Women of the Chong clan. Not so domineering.

This trip was quite refreshing to me as K.T. has changed quite a bit since my last visit in 2009. The main street of Terengganu, Jalan Kampung Cina underwent a major facelift. Many of the century old buildings were given a new façade and painted with bright colours. Behind the row of shops in Kampung Cina, what used to be a river decorated by rubbish is now a canal embellished by metal bridges and mosaic tiles. Were there any developments that would benefit the lives of Terengganu folk and are not just exorbitant white elephants? Probably not.

However, the things I like about K.T. are those that did not change one bit. Quality of food for example, and I can do no better than to begin with mm po’s nasi dagang. If nasi dagang is most commonly found in Terengganu, then her nasi dagang is, dare I claim, the best in the world. Fragrant, soft glutinous rice served with mackerel in sweet and spicy gravy, just heavenly.

A bold but honest proclamation: Best nasi dagang in the world.

Tied at second place are jee chim po, my grandfather’s sister-in-law’s laksa Terengganu and bubur lambuk. There’s nothing I miss more than the fishy goodness in Terengganu cuisine and I got a fair share of that this time. I could not resist the food, hence no pictures.

There is also Kari Asha's roti canai. Best roti I have tasted so far. Far better than the thick, floury roti from the usual roti joints in K.L. or Ipoh, Kari Asha's roti is crispy on the outside but soft on the inside and most importantly, not at all burnt.

Definitely gold standard.

Other than piling on the pounds by gobbling down ridiculous amounts of food, gambling is the next best thing to do during Chinese New Year, especially in Terengganu where there is nothing much else to do. Almost every relative’s house we step foot in becomes a gambling den. Despite my greater than desired share of losing, it was great fun.

5th meal of the day.

Before I noticed the passing time, it was time to return to K.L. again. Spending the rest of Chinese New Year in K.L. is something new for me. For most of the nights we had dinner with family friends. There was dinner with Aunty Dorothy and family at Jaya Palace.

Smoked duck in sauce on the left, smoked duck breast with coleslaw and mayo. Heavenly, nothing less.

There was also an eight course dinner that Aunty Koon Hwa cooked with assistance from her maid, but no small feat nonetheless.

Homemade dishes. Seriously.

Another event during New Year was gathering at ku Kiang's new house. There was definitely no shortage of eating and gambling there.

Abundance.

Ku Kiang and family.

To mark the end of the fifteen day long festival, we held a family gathering in Armanee. Hotpot was the order of the day as usual but this year it was I who prepared the broth. Gambling is also high on the agenda at every family gathering, and I got a chance to redeem myself at the table for one last time this year.

Trying to sneak a good shot before the eating starts.

Hotpot.

For the first time in my life, I celebrated the full duration of Chinese New Year. It started on a good note and ended with a bang. I could not ask for more, but I ask for a similar experience in 2012, since it might be the last Chinese New Year I get to celebrate.