That Nasi Lemak Moment |
The most stunning nasi lemak I’ve ever devoured was also the simplest - a little packet of coconut rice with half a boiled egg with sambal ikan bilis. It was a lot more than meets the eye. I was on a Penang vacation two years back and just shooting the breeze by Gurney Drive when a little truck pulled up and set up a food table under a tree and obstructed my tea time view of the ocean. They yanked out a tub of very fragrant coconut rice and it pierced the air I was sniffing. Then, they laid out in symmetric format on the table, rows upon rows of banana leaf squares and begin methodically scooping, then pressing a bowl of nasi onto each leaf. The half boiled egg was cut and placed beside it with a slice of cucumber (just one slice, for that “yearn” effect). Then the main event - they took out a pail of what seemed a diluted sambal and poured into it a whole giant bag of crispy, slightly salty ikan bilis. They stirred it in and magically, the sambal thickened and they spooned a portion onto each banana leaf of rice and egg with the cool cucumber. They sold it for one ringgit each pack and upon my first mouthful of the nasi, I had that Anton Ego moment (the food critic who ate Remy the rat’s Ratatouille in that animated show and had an epiphany) - the earth just stopped momentarily for me to replay that moment. The rice was so loose, soft and perfectly lemak with a gently sweet aroma with hints of lemon grass and pandan. The egg was no bystander, it soaked in that expertly rendered sambal, all sweet, sourish and spicy and thickened with the still crispy and wet savoury ikan bilis. Without hesitation, I headed back to where that make shift stall was with one intention (awakening from the laid back late noon sun sleeping on my shoulders) - I wanted to learn and buy his sambal ikan bilis recipe. He could name his price (provided it was less than the 500 ringgit I only had left in cash). But they were gone, as fast as they appeared. I will always remember that nasi lemak moment. The ones listed below are just as good but they come minus the best ingredient- simplicity. 1/ Shiekh Najib Nasi Lemak
Mr Najib used to operate in the east and decided to set up shop here three years ago. The draw was having their own huge kitchen behind to process mass order supplies to his clients all around the city each morning. The kitchen behind held a few industrial sized rice steamer racks and a little army packs away hundreds, if not, thousands of banana leaf wrapped nasi lemak each night. The rice borders on soft and dry, and comes loose and light. The fried chicken has a pleasantly hard biscuit like batter and was juicy. The fish was crispy enough although it was a tad dry. What blew me away was the sambal- it was robust, spicy, rough, sweet and tangy all at once. It made me even forgets the crispy ikan bilis. But you must come at peak meal hours or past 10pm each night, that’s when they make them fresh for the next morning’s delivery and you get them as they fly off the kitchen. 2/ Bali Nasi Lemak
Mdm Susan Koh is related to the Punggol Nasi Lemak folks but she has held her own for over a decade here in the heart of the red light district. She gets all sorts of customers including camera toting food bloggers and Geylang workers. They all come here for a unique signature - her black fried chicken, tossed in a gently spicy kicap manis (black sweet caramelized soy sauce). It flies off her giant fryer all night long as she believes that they all come back because things are fresh. You’ll find the about 16 items on offer very refreshing. Apart from the usual fried ikan kuning (fin to bone crispy baby mackerels) and the regular fried chicken (one of the best batter - cracker crispy and it holds very well) and otah, she also offers sambal petai (stinkbeans), sautéed long beans, hae bi hiam (spicy minced dried shrimps) and even curry chicken. At 63 and not looking the age, Mdm Koh still slaves over the stove as “very hard to find workers you can trust these days. They just can’t be bothered to learn and perform.”
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