Passions of Kerala Restaurant, Georgetown - Penang

More than memories of backpacking - aromatic briyani rice on a rectangle sized banana leaf ala natural plate, accompanied by (clockwise from 11 o'clock) shall veg curry, hot sauces and sambar.

There is an art and etiquette to eating with hands from a banana leaf laid out in front of you.  At the very start, it is required to wash your hands, which can be obvious.  You are then asked your preference of steamed white rice or tomato flavoured rice laden with cooked spices, raisins and finely chopped nuts.   As with most Middle Eastern, South Asian and south-east Asian cultures, you always eat with your right hand - the other hand is reserved for other specific uses.   Condiments, garnishings and vegetables are provided in several forms and you just take it all on your banana leaf, which soon gets crowded.  Meat and seafood dishes which you  have chosen additionally from the menu are then served in separate plates.  When you have finished your meal, you can show satisfaction to your host or the chef and restaurant by folding your emptied banana leaf inwards towards you. Do the opposite if you are unhappy with the quality and taste of the food served.

After all this awareness, I nevertheless opted for the use of folk and spoon at a banana leaf and curry restaurant in the heart of Georgetown.   I had no recent practice using my hands ( a technique that requires being able to push a dollop of rice into mouth with a finger) - and so I had missed this unique opportunity to re-try this interesting practice that reduces the use of utensils at meal time.

Kerala cuisine or Sadya evolved from the heavy influence of the land lying along the Spice Trade, in the path of Arab, Portuguese, Dutch and British sailors and being subject to the socio-commercial implications of the monsoons, when travelling historically relied so much on weather and wind direction.  The Thalassery Briyani  from the Malabar area epitomises such influences with its dual utilisation of both chicken and seafood.  Kerala is part of the Tamil language speaking zone - and Tamils have traditionally formed a significant minority of the populations of both Singapore and Malaysia.  Many a traveller in this region is familiar with the puttu, sambar, dosa and Paal-Appam at breakfast time along busy road stalls and in tourist food hubs in this part of the world,    These dishes are part of the Kerala tradition and  just refer accordingly to steamed rice and grated coconut, chutney-like condiments and pancakes.

Chicken curry with an authentic twist, a delightful change from what is usually available.

Deep fried fish is bathed in a thick and flavoursome curry.

Seafood stands out in this cuisine and you can have a wide variety of options in this space. Squid and prawns are part of this menu but what captivated me was the crab masala.  Masala is a term that refers to a blend of spices to produce a heady mix and flavour. Generally the dishes here are noted for their rich but rewarding curries. Service is efficient and tables were quickly filled up at the lunch time we were there, a working day. The restaurant is air conditioned and spacious. Penangites love their fried fish which are then consumed in a variety of cuisine styles, whether with a light gravy or soaked in curries. The coast of Kerala, on the south-west coast of the Indian sub-continent, with cities like Kochi, Payyanur and Thiruvananthapuram, does significantly affect this specific cuisine, apart from the unique herbs and tropical flora and fruits that dot its hinterland. Prices charged are most reasonable and offer a refreshing value when compared to eating similar meals in Singapore or Sydney. Henry, who took me there, remarked that the standard of Indian food here is as good as to what backpackers and tourists may find in exotic cafes and shops in Little India, about ten minutes away by car in Penang's old quarter. Passions of Kerala Restaurant is open daily, with lunch served from 1130am and dinner provided from 6pm. Its location in the New World Park entertainment and street food precinct is popular and relatively easy to find.  Apparently additional rice and vegetables are offered to customers at no additional cost.  There is another branch of the passions of Kerala in suburban Georgetown in the Bukit Gelugor area on  the way south to the airport.

Portions of delightful accompaniments, some spicy and others not so chili hot, are dished out neatly in front of you.

What are the essential differences between Kerala curries and their northern cousins in India? The ubiquitous use of aromatic curry leaves, the careful pouring of different types of fresh coconut milk at critical stages of the cooking process and the prevalent presence of cinnamon, pepper and cardamom perhaps contribute to the distinctive taste of this specific cuisine. There is definitely a sense of the heavy tropical air from Kerala cuisine.

 Interesting enough owner Gary Nair also offers kiwi flavoured lhassi yogurt, something which restaurants in New Zealand and Australia may consider, especially with the availability of this gooseberry fruit in the Antipodean countries. I tried this type of lhassi and I liked it. Pappadums offered were small sized compared to what you find in Sydney or Wollongong.  Indian food inevitably contains a strong element of vegetarian - the dish that stood out to me was the sharp but stimulating lime acar, with julieanned strips of hard vegetables marinated with a sour and spicy marinade.

If you have time for only one dish, I strongly suggest the mutton masala (photo below). This meat of goats, as opposed to sheep, has a more powerful natural odour, so is best cooked in a curry with several spices.  I was more than satisfied with our meal of several dishes and could no longer try the Kerala desserts - okay, maybe  the next time around!

Miraku Japanese, G Hotel - Georgetown, Penang

Cold tea flavoured infused soba (buck wheat noodles) were sitting on a bamboo weaved mat on a shallow bento box.  It was a lovely time catching up with Michael, who had studied at university in Wollongong and his family, which included a good mate and his own wife and two boys.

The only apparent condiment, sitting precariously on top of the sloping long noodles, were delicate pieces of sea weed and intense tasting small fish, with their eyes gleaming up at me.  There are many utensils in a Japanese meal, with ladles, chopsticks, sauce plates and small bowls, all looking petite and in the deep colours that Japanese culture appreciates. Ten of us were provided a private function room in a restaurant sited on the first floor of a trendy hotel.   It is best to savour the well appointed surroundings inside the restaurant rather than have takeaway, which Miraku offers as well - mainly don sets accompanied by steamed rice and small servings of salad with mayonnaise.

The venue was spacious, with both sliding door locations and outside seating.  Decorative and studied presentations of meals were emphasised throughout, with obvious well arranged meals served like miniature pieces of art.   Apart from the expected offering of Japanese beer and sake, including brands like Shouchikubai Nigori, Suishin, Kirin, Yebisu and Sapporo, the drinks list was highlighted by Ruffino wine and ume shu or plum wine options.  Tea choices were rather like cocktails or mixed with fruity options.

Tradition does run deep in the Miraku (which signifies a place where one can enjoy great food), as illustrated by the offering of a quail egg to take with the soba (refer to photo above).  Appetisers of note are the grilled skewer scallops, fermented soya beans, crispy deep fried white bait and a whole garlic (Ninniku Age).  For those on the run, the lunch sets can be considered - I recommend the Hokkai Chirashi for those who like their raw seafood and their signature Miraku bento set itself - looking as much pretty as tasty.  Premium items are available as part of a Grand or Course menu.

My group had plates passed around the table often as supplementing our personal main choices. The staff seemed well trained and were quick on their feet that Sunday afternoon. the most interesting side and communal dish taken that day was one labelled a Ladies Special - delicate tofu in a hotpot exquisitely steamed with some fresh greens.  Kar Wai's sons thoroughly examined the room even if they had been there before. My group chatted about outsourcing, changing competitiveness amongst economies and more in a cocooned environment.  The rains may have poured down incessantly for days in Penang Island but in the Miraku, we found refuge, good company and tasty cuisine.

DrawnNGo, Island Park - Penang Island

Mushroom soup and garlic bread has epitomised Western cuisine for several generations, mainly as a result of colonial Brit influences and local preferences. Whilst converging practices and various migrating populations led to fusion food on the Asian side,until in the past twenty or so years, Euro food in the Malayan Peninsular lacked the variety that you see in Australia, Singapore and Hong Kong today.  There was  an obvious lack of continental choices but American food arrived with a gusto in the fast food chains.

Pork chop in batter, accompanied by coleslaw and smooth potato mash - the winner was the dipping sauce, which, amongst other things, utilised aromatic and fresh Sarawak freshly ground pepper.  My sister in law Sian Kin had suggested trying this cafe and it brought me back in memory to the likes of Eden and other outlets that were effectively run by Chinese chefs from Hainan Island in southern China.  These Hainanese earned a living in the 19th and 20th centuries manning the kitchens for their Caucasian masters and created a new cuisine blending in the preferences of their employers (living so far away from home) and their quintessential Chinese cooking techniques. The pork chop I had had a crunch, a flavour and a bite that stood out on its own.

Colourful and cooling drinks served before the food.

Days in Penang Past

I still recall cycling to school along Green Lane, when it was much more leafy and with much less vehicular traffic. Ishak the son of a naval officer and I paddled side by side along the rather straight two laned road past benign large trees, the Convent School, large government owned bungalows and the Thai Temple. We arrived at an educational institution that was established in 1816. The solidly built school had long facades of white paint, a rather distinguished hall based on British traditions and a field with neatly kept lawns. Most impressive to me was the rather sizeable sports pavilion that was sited not far from the house of the Head Master. I can still recall clearly the covered sheds where we parked our bicycles. The Library building had a more modern architecture than the rest of the school complex. Friday afternoons were the best days of such non-chalant and halycon school times. Shortly after noon a few classmates and I would gather at a house near a roundabout near a long and winding road named after our high school. There we would dabble in things and chat that fascinate the emerging liberating world of an early adolescent. Such Friday sessions would lead to hill and beach bungalow stays in a world all at once refreshing, changing and yet constricted by the boundaries of a small but fascinating island with already a rich past. I grew up in a community that considered itself apart from the peninsular mainland. It is with irony now that I reflect at times that the powers that be from this particular mainland has in the past over forty years also politically and socially scorned the people of my birth place. It is also not amazing to me that many of fellow island brethren have also relocated to another nearby island - Singapore. Fast forward another ten years and after being away at university, I returned to a fast changing Penang. I relished those evenings going out in groups dining at beach restaurants or remote venues with niche food on an island that still inherently viewed itself as special. This was at a period before Georgetown was granted UNESCO world heritage status and was in a sort of economic limbo between its Silicon Isle manufacturing past and its future revival with million ringgit properties. This was the age of an explosion of motor bikes crowding its narrow streets and with street food still made and sold by authentic cooks and vendors. The island's northern beaches became littered with hotels, tourists and commercialisation. Dark skinned beach boys mingled with blonde haired backpacker girls from Germany and Queensland. Students protested on a mass scale in Beijing and the Berlin Wall came down. One radiating hot spring day I found myself with two pieces of luggage plonked down with a dear cousin's place in Marsfield north of Sydney's Harbour Bridge. I had left my beloved Penang driven by a permanent resident visa granted to me based on my professional skills and young working age. There was no revolutionary event on my home shores, but significant confronting with yet still evolutionary changes in the socio-political landscape in the nation's capital city, only a four hour drive by car south-east of Penang, had begun to embed, establish and endure. As it rains persistently on the Illawarra coast this evening, I begin to ponder on the past of my hometown, like all immigrants everywhere, when they get a quiet moment from the drive of satisfying the hunger, fascination and challenge of settling in a new land. What do I recall best of all? Mates felt unspokenly comfortable enough to drop by unannounced at home. Temperatures were warm enough for us to hang around chatting outdoors as well. Cordial drinks were popular to be served. Motor bike riders and passengers passing by on the street went about their business with earnest decency, unlike in today's Malaysia where hand bag snatch incidents are the highest in the world. At times, friends and relatives gathered for hours on end to have a laugh, share moments and consume tasty food. Due to the humidity, afternoons after lunch were best reserved for a siesta. I could hear roosters call at dawn, even if I stayed far away from a rural setting. Food was always available, from Mum's cooking, the short car drive to the midnight hawker stalls or the latest opened cafe or food court. The sun rose and set at almost the same time throughout the year. And Penang Hill stood always apparently looking over my shoulder, but its flora and vegetation were already getting deforested and the beloved mists of my teenage hood staying in bungalows up there were thinning out and not recurring so often.

Ryos Japanese, Crows Nest - Sydney

Ramen comes in various forms and feel from different parts of Japan - Ryo's offer a distinct Tokyo taste in stock soup and texture of thin noodles. Although favourite soups come laden with rich brews in pork and chicken, Ryo's does also provide a distinctive blend of both fish and pork stock ( or tonkotsu-gyokai). The intensity of the soups at Ryo's seem to appear lighter, but that does not detract from a rewarding taste. One tends to compare ramen experiences with those of the home country, in the nearby Korean peninsular and in various joints, upmarket or not, scattered in homes and hubs in various immigrant portions of Western cities. Not only is the quality of the soup important, but I reckon the cut and taste of well chosen pork or chicken cuts do affect the overall sensation. When one consumes ramen, one must acknowledge the origins of this dish, essentially street food, echoing of working class struggles, the charm and expertise of individuals who labour over the art and joy of cooking them and the village like communal atmosphere which has nurtured this quintessential East Asian inspiration.  It may be also important to not mix up judgements of ramen with those aspects in slurping up pasta or partaking Chinese vermicelli, for although possibly related by history and culture, ramen stands a world apart from pasta and its other variations originating in different geographical regions. Ramen culture echoes the uniqueness and nuances of Japanese society.

Ryo's on the lower north shore of greater Sydney has an unassuming facade outside and is rather small inside, offering only a few tables and a stooled bar counter for clients. Whatever space on the walls are filled up with hand written strips of paper, reminiscent of Nippon temples and Tibetan impressions. "Ryo" means to be magnificent, excel and exceed. In this respect, this particular business lives up to its name, in attracting people to line up outside its small shop front, to make them come back for more and create a positive representation of street food in a corner of Crows Nest away from the main strip of cafes and restaurants. A rather tanned guy opens its doors occasionally to admit two or three customers at a time. This is a place where it pays to arrive early, otherwise one would be caught with a sure test of the limits of one's patience - and it can be rather warm lining up under the full sun along Falcon Street. There is not an extensive menu list - but you do have options in dumplings and side snacks if you do not want noodles. You inevitably end up sharing tables with strangers who can potentially be friends - and that is the purpose of it all, to partake food together in a communal fashion. The prices are rather reasonable when compared with the Ippudos of the world - and in this respect, I am reminded more of the Menya joints in Sydney CBD than anything else. The compulsory egg is served with each Ryo bowl, which is smaller than its competitors. One thing about Ryo is that you eat as fast as you can, go and allow other people to take your seat. Maybe it should be located near transport hubs and rail stations, where a never ending of passer-bys can take care of their meals and move on.

I also am reminded of Vietnamese pho joints around Sydney, where diner turnover, speed of service and a practical approach add to the value of doing a business. Yes, there is the contraption of sauces, the chopstick pairs and the folded serviette paper sitting and staring at us from the table. There is a family of four hovering behind me near the door. The several people who share our table just speak enjoyably in Mandarin, with not a word of English from them. You can have a spicy variation of the soup, although I often prefer the clear version instead. What I wondered is the signature difference between Tokyo ramen with other versions? Is it Hakata styled tonkotsu or pork bone cuts, or having sweet dried sardines or bonito with chicken to build up the broth? Must the stock be a bit fatty to bring out the flavours? Shoyu, or soy sauce, must be cleverly used in a diligent way to avoid leaving an excessive lingering of thirstiness in clients - and natural flavours are to be preferred, instead of resorting to the easy option of adding MSG. Tokyo's ramen are often found along narrow and tiny lanes. What is always a winner are having those chunky chashu pork slices to adorn a piping hot bowl of ramen.

Not far from Falcon Street is a hidden hub of cafes with breakfast and brunch menus, barista made coffees and one - Scurro's - with some cakes and sweet stuff. Such is the beauty and specialness of Australian cities and suburban areas. You can have your Japanese and still top up with Italian, modern Australian and the best of produce and ingredients. The day had got unseasonably warm and once again Australia was to witness a change in the Commonwealth Government in elections held for the 28th Prime Minister and the 44th term of Government in the nation. Multi-culturalism marches on and has become irreversible. The benefits in the fusion and availability of different cuisines around the world are not to be taken for granted.