I have this thing about looks in food- nothing, I feel not much for presentation. Perhaps maybe, just a bit. I care that this plate of hideous black-brown, sticky and oily pile of dark fried KL (Kuala Lumpur) style Hokkien noodles comes in a decently coloured plate with fork and spoon. Of course it is obvious what I care about- the colourful flavours that explodes and resonate in my mouth and how it presents a distinct culinary statement thenafter. I can’t explain why that KL Hokkien Mee, which is one of the must-makan dishes when we cross the border into our neighbour’s capital, is not easily available on our soils. There is this theory about the noodles (tai lok mee), a thicker udon style Hokkien mee, contains just a tad too much alkali and sodium carbonate (kan sui) than our regulators and public health watchdogs are comfortable with. But hey, what about the trans fat and artificial everything they put in fast foods here. That’s just my theory, fired by the fact that you can’t buy them in our markets. And what about the millions of Malaysians who regularly wolf down this KL Hokkien Mee and still thrive and tell the story about it. One of them is my pal and makan buddy, award winning film director Ho Yuhung. He bundled me into his bone shaker of a jalopy last week and briefed me about “one of the best Hokkien Mee in Selangor”.

Head chef Ah Meng learnt from his master owner Ah Hua
and is one deft Hokkien Mee chef.

He went on about how “they used to have another stall at Jalan 22 but I think the family fell out because…” and then, “standard drop la…” so, “now we can swear by this one” and “Ah Hua the master, looks after this stall.” clarifying that “this was told by my pal who supplies the noodles to both the famous stalls.”. I trust this soulful friend of mine, he never leaves any back alley or stones untouched or gossips unverified in his search for ideas and truth.

The place is just a usual corner coffeeshop stall except this stall had three ferociously fan aided oil drum sized charcoal stoves with deft handed chefs clanging away at the seasoned woks on it. We knew what we wanted – the Hokkien Mee, a fried beehoon and kway teow combo and the curious Singapore beehoon (that’s another story). We sat by a five-foot way table and everything was primed for what’s in store , with the mind game of placing a cup of ubiquitous sambal with spoon stuck in at the top, a bowl of fresh chopped garlic and pickled green chili- all and the pot of chinese tea, all, supporting cast to the sensation that awaited us.

Get past looks and be overwhelmed by the rich, smoky,
savouriness that is intensified by thick black soy sauce

Then it came, that black stack of thick udon looking noodles that sat on a shiny orange plastic plate which seemed uniform for all such eateries in KL. Even the little shrimps, vegetables and meat were black (as if I cared). I was anticipating the first bite- it was soft, not unlike udon but it had that distinct Hokkien mee taste (with hints of alkali) but it was clearly drowned in that all encompassing taste hidden in the black sauce that coated each strand. Everything else they put in it, was just textural distractions (they might as well put in bits of fried shoelace for all I care- or did they?) to this RM5.50 (about $2.20) attraction. Ah Meng, one of the head chefs, when egged, revealed that the black soy sauce they use, which gives it the colour, has additions of flat fish dust added in. The regular light soy and the stock were mere accomplices.

Another dish I found favour with was the equally ugly looking and similarly fried beehoon and kway teow mix. It’s the extreme mix of texture- one firm and squiggly and the other, soft and thick. Very unlike our cha kway teow with yellow noodles, yet not too different in approach and appeal. I had to order the joke of a noodle called Singapore Beehoon, which as we all know, is a foul on our makan culture. I tried ridiculous renditions in New York to Hong Kong and I just wanted to know how our close neighbour treated this “authentic” Singapore dish. Thiers was like a breakfast beehoon, except it’s crafted with and intense amount of wok and charcoal fired flavour with wistful hints of light soy and some dried shrimps.

Someone, please, come up with a Malaysia Mee to call our own.