A Comforting Presence

            Early one morning, I woke up as I very much needed to go to the toilet. I tossed and turned, trying to will myself to sleep again. The way to the toilet was through the dark hall and even darker corridor and I was frightened to go through them. Eventually however, the Call of Nature was too strong for me and I crept out of my bedroom. "Glory Hallelujah!" I thought. "Yay!" The kitchen was ablaze with light and Mama was bustling around, getting breakfast ready for the family. I hadn't realized it was already past six o'clock. I went to the toilet, got myself a cup of cold, cold water, and sat on the step which marked the boundary between our kitchen and the corridor.

 

            As comforting as the presence of Mama, was the food she cooked. One of these was "babi chin". This my grandmother cooked from scratch. She would clean pieces of pork and chicken, together with chestnuts and bamboo shoots and would stew them in tao cheo, ketumbal and garlic.

 

            The longer this was stewed, the better. After several hours, when it was ready, we would dice chilli padies in our plates or bowls and scoop the babi chin over it. It was heavenly with French loaves.

 

            The babi chin tasted even better after two, three or even four days, as the fat from the pork pieces would have melted into the gravy, making it even richer and thicker than on the day it was cooked.

Recipe for Ayam & Babi Chin

(serves 5)

 

Ingredients :

1 pig's trotter, cut into pieces about 4 - 5cm in width

5 chicken thighs

kao lak (chestnuts)

Chinese mushrooms

bamboo shoots

1 tbsp ketumbal

1 tsp tao cheo

1 tsp garlic

2 tbsp cooking oil

salt and sugar to taste

 

Method :

1.Fry the garlic with the cooking oil till golden brown.

2.Then add the tao cheo and ketumbal.

3.Stir for a while.

4.Then add water.

5.When the water is boiling, add the pieces of the pig's trotter, the mushrooms and the bamboo shoots.

6.When the pork is half-cooked, add the chicken pieces.

7.When the chicken and pork are cooked, add the kao lak.

8.Savour with French loaves / baguettes / bread rolls

            When Mama was in a bad mood, the cooking suffered too. It would be too salty or tasteless. However, this did not happen often, perhaps once or twice across a span of five years or so, when she quarrelled with my grandpa.

            Once, when I passed a comment about a dish during such an incident, my grandma was still very upset. And so, I ended up re-assuring her that I loved her and that she wasn't just a "cooking machine".

 

            In truth, though, she was a fabulous cook and her meals were not merely tasty, but balanced and nutritious as well.

A Unique Recipe

            Mama was fond of her afternoon naps. Every afternoon, when I was smaller, she would retire to her room after eating her lunch and fruit.

 

            Those were the days when platform beds were in fashion. In the room shared by my aunt and grandmother, two mattresses had been laid side-by-side on a raised and carpeted platform, with a bed-sheet over both of them. Mama would lie on her mattress, while I would lie on my Aunt's mattress (my Aunt being at work).

 

            While she cruised to Dreamland, I would sit beside her and read my storybooks. So Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, the Five Find-Outers and other finds were my companions during those quiet afternoons.

 

            Sometimes in the afternoons I would get hungry. I would boil a sausage and have it with a slice of buttered toast and Maggie's chilli sauce.

 

            Mama, after she got up, would cook dinner. One of my favourites was a rather unique looking and tasting dish called "babi tohay".

 

            This is a dish with a maroon coloured gravy, made from grago (tiny shrimp), a special powder and fermented rice, all of which have been ground together. Its main ingredient is pork belly. The gravy tastes slightly salty. We normally stew big chillies with it, so we can mash the cooked chillies into our rice and eat it with the pork.

 

            Even if I'm having a hard day, I cheer up at the thought of being able to eat this dish. It is surprisingly rare, despite the proliferation of restaurants and cafes which serve Peranakan food.

 

            I've displayed the recipe below, for any soul brave enough to attempt the laborious task of cooking it. The results will be well worth your efforts though :)

 

Recipe for Babi Tohay

 

How to make the tohay paste :

Ingredients :

8 cups grago (tiny shrimp) (keep dry, do not wash)

2 cups rice, washed and fried till brown, then ground

3 1/2 tbsp ang kak (pounded)

 

Method :

1.Grind the grago with salt, adding the pounded rice and ang kak slowly. DO NOT LET IT GET WET.

2.Rinse storage bottle with brandy.

3.Fill the bottle.

4.Keep in freezer.

 

Ingredients :

500gm pork belly

2 tbsp tohay (see section below on how to make this)

4 - 5 red chillies

1 large sliced onion

2 serai (crushed)

4 - 5 leaves lehmoh purut

 

Method :

1.Add 1 litre of water to pork, tohay paste, onions and serai.

2.Tear the lehmoh purut leaves, before adding to the pot.

3.Boil till the pork is soft.

4.Finally, add red chillies.

5.When the chillies are soft, serve with rice.

 

 

Mama and Ah Kong

            One day, when my cousins had come to my house to play, one of them had the great idea of trying to mend relations between our grandmother and grandfather.

            We decided to write each a note, purportedly from the other, saying that he or she wanted to make up. Unfortunately, our ploy did not work. I suppose our handwriting gave us away.

            My grandparents, alas, continued to be at loggerheads with each other, despite the fact that they lived under the same roof. My grandmother had for some reason taken offence with my grandfather, so even though my grandfather would drop sly hints of a rich widow who was interested in him, my grandmother refused to make up with him. Nonetheless, she continued to cook for him and fold his clothes after they had been washed by the washerwoman.

 

            One of the dishes which my grandfather loved was "pong tauhu". This is a soup with strips of turnip and meatballs made of minced pork, mashed up tauhu and either minced pork or pieces of crabmeat (see picture above). He probably liked the dish as it was soft and easy to chew. Neither he nor Mama had any teeth, as they had been advised years ago by a dentist to remove all their teeth. As a result, they both had to rely on dentures. This became a problem for my grandmother, as her gums started giving way.

 

            I sometimes think one reason why my grandpa continued to stay with my grandmother was her cooking. Despite having had little education, as her family could not afford to educate her, she was great at planning our menu and at executing it. Another reason was perhaps because of her smile. One day, after coming back from school (I worked as a teacher for some time),  Mama suddenly woke up as I sat by her bedside. On realising that her hands were not tied (we had tied them to stop her from pulling out her feeding tube), she gave a sudden smile, said, "I'm not tied!" and went back to sleep. Meanwhile, I had been stunned by how pretty she looked when she smiled. This was when she was about 94 or 95 years of age. I suppose my grandfather must have been charmed by that same smile.

Our Rock

            Mama took upon herself very seriously the responsibility for my upbringing. Every day, she would wait on the porch for my school-bus to deposit me home after school. Years later, our neighbour would comment upon this to my mother. We were startled as we had no idea that our neighbours had been observing us so closely.

 

            Looking back, however, I think Mama was just afraid that I would go astray. As such, she guarded me zealously. I was a precious daughter to my mother and a precious granddaughter to my grandmother.

 

            When I came back from school, my  grandmother would always have lunch ready for me. One of the dishes she cooked often was "ikan selar goreng". Ikan selar is a local fish. Mama would slit it lengthwise on both sides. Into each slit, she would stuff her special blend of chilli mixed with her sambal belachan. She would then fry the fish, making sure to leave a generous portion of oil around and beneath the fish when it was plated.

 

            When I ate the fish, I would also help myself to some of the oil.

            In later years, my mum and aunt would be quite amused by the fact that the mention of "ikan selar goreng" could make my eyes light up. Mama would usually cook some soup as well, normally pek chye soup with minced pork and prawns, or tau hu soup, also with minced pork and prawns.

 

            Although these are simple and inexpensive dishes, they remind me of how my grandma would be always ready and waiting for me after school each day with the nourishing dishes she had prepared.

My Ever-Present Guardian

            Another aspect of her care for me was shown in that she never ever left the house when I was at home. This aspect was unknown to me until years later, when our maid mentioned that Mama had sometimes gone out to buy oranges. As our maid had not started working for us until after I had finished my A levels, I thought she had remembered wrongly. I was starting to disagree with her when it struck me that this had been deliberate on my grandmother's part. She had truly never left the house all the time I was at home, during my growing-up years. So she must have re-scheduled all her outings and errands to the times when I was at school or out with my mother.

 

            I was embarassed to acknowledge this in front of my cousin, who was also present and had been a latchkey child, like some of my other relatives and friends.  This was because both her parents had been at work and they stayed on their own (without either set of grandparents).

 

            The amazing thing was that Mama had never verbalized this policy of hers. She'd simply done it, without saying anything to anybody. On hindsight, this was typical of Mama. She was truly a person of few words, even when she was in pain, she would say little, and stoically bear with the pain in silence.

 

            Her care for me was evinced even in the dishes she cooked for me. Quite often, she would fry ikan kurau or prawns with sambal belachan. I love this dish. With the ikan kurau version, the skin of the fish is thick, so that when fried, it becomes delightfully chewy. The sambal belachan is a perfect accompaniment, as it is salty and slightly spicy. Seen below is the prawn version.

 

            How much care she had taken of me I never quite appreciated until years later, when I asked my aunt, who had taken over the menu planning, why she so seldom cooked ikan kurau for us. My aunt pursed her lips and started complaining about the price of kurau and how it was so expensive, compared to other fish.

 

            It was then that I realised how my grandmother had taken painstaking care to feed me good food, things that she herself must not have had much of, since her family had been so poor when she was a girl.

All Creatures Great and Small

            Mama had been quite a feisty woman. She loved dogs, and so, of course, did I.

            When I was about three, one of my aunt's friends gave her a mongrel, a crossbreed. Of which two breeds I never found out, but he had a long furry coat, with hairs that were white and tan in colour. Mama named him "Rusty", since she said his coat had the colour of rust.

            Rusty ate whatever food we had left over. He did unfortunately have ticks. When they irritated him too much, he would lie down on our rug and rub that part of himself against the rug. Now and then, Mama and my aunt would give him a bath.

            Rusty's baths were exciting events. Mama would use the kitchen. She would shut the side door (leading to the dining room) and the back door (leading to the laundry area). Then she would block the area between the kitchen and the corridor with our old shoe-rack, so that Rusty would be trapped in the kitchen.


            She would then proceed to wet him (he would of course shake himself so that droplets of water were splashed all around him). She would apply dog shampoo on him and tick medicine to get rid of his ticks. After washing this off, she would rub him with a towel, then release him, whereby he would immediately run into the garden and rub himself on the rug again (this time, I think, to dry himself more thoroughly).

 

            Each time, I would watch, amazed at her courage and gungho-ness, as I could not see myself cornering any dog of that size to bathe it. Rusty was not Alsatian-size, but he was no poodle either, and Mama was quite a short lady, although somewhat on the plump side.

 

            Mama not only was not afraid of cornering a dog to bathe it. She was also fearless in dealing with scary creatures to accomplish her culinary feats. One dish which required this was Mama's "king crab salad".

 

            When I mentioned this once to a classmate, she gasped and said it was poisonous. This might have something to do with the fact that I later discovered the said crab to actually be a horseshoe crab. However, the fact is, my grandmother used to cook the female crabs, together with their roe, and to serve them with raw red onions and other vegetables. Coconut milk was one of the ingredients used in the manufacture of its dressing. It was a very delicious salad.

            The horseshoe crabs were to me rather scary creatures, with their sharp stinging tails. Once, my grandmother brought home two, and they scurried around our shallow drains, waving their sharp tails around.

            However, I believe the conservationists would probably frown upon this dish now, as the horseshoe crabs are probably not very plentiful in number. I have never seen them being sold in either the wet markets or supermarkets.

Mama's Sisters and Mother

            Mama loved her sisters and her mother. Her mother had passed away a year before I was born, but she continued to be close to her sisters. Whenever she could, she would spend time with them, even though she had by that time been married to Ah Kong for more than forty years already.

 

            Once, her sisters moved to a rented house near our home, as their own house was being rebuilt. As my cousin happened to be at our house, she took both of us girls for a walk to visit her sisters.

            At the time, her youngest sister was dying of cancer. I remember going into her bedroom, where the air-conditioner was probably perpetually on. The room didn't smell of medicine or anything, but I was rather depressed by the situation. We said hi to her and Mama must have chatted with her other sisters before we walked home.

 

            Mama, being a traditional Peranakan bride, had learnt to cook all manner of Nyonya food before she was married off to my grandfather, who had been the scion of a rich family (he was a descendant of Cheang Hong Lim).

 

            On special occasions and when guests came, the famous Peranakan dish "ayam masak buah keluak" would be trotted out. It was a rare dish, firstly because it is not easy to get access to buah keluak and secondly because it entails a lot of work.

 

            We need extra small teaspoons to scoop out the dark flesh of the buah keluak. I would the spoon the delicious gravy over my rice as well.

            My grandmother's buah keluak is special, because the flesh is mixed with minced pork and seasoned before being stuffed back into its shell.

 

Recipe for Buah Keluak

 

How to prepare the buah keluak :

1.Soak buah keluak nuts overnight.

2.Make an opening in the shells.

3.Remove the buah keluak filling.

4.Pound the filling, adding sugar, salt and minced meat.

5.Then stuff back into the shells.

 

Ingredients :

5cm of lengkuas

4 buah keras

fresh saffron

2 big fresh chillies

6 red onions

5cm x 1cm piece of belachan

assam (half the size of a golf ball)

salt to taste

 

Method :

1.Pound lengkuas, buah keras and saffron finely.

2.Add fresh chillies and red onions, pounding lightly.

3.Then add belachan.

4.Fry the paste.

5.Then add water and chicken.

6.When cooked, add buah keluak.

7.Finally, add the assam water.

 

             This is one reason why I never bring my family to eat at a Peranakan restaurant. It is akin to bringing coal to Newcastle. My mum and her sisters invariably turn up their noses at all offerings and start pooh-poohing all the dishes they taste, swearing that their cooking would have been better.

Sad News

            One afternoon, during the University break, I was sitting at home, reading, when I received a call from my mother. "Sue, Yi-Poh Sa-Yi (Third Grandaunt) has passed away, can you try and prepare Mama? Someone is on the way to take her to their house."

            I was taken aback. Of course, Mama and her sisters were already in their seventies and eighties, but there had been no indication at all that there was anything wrong with Yi-Poh Sa-Yi. I was at a loss as to what to do, and said a short prayer about it. Then I recalled a similar incident in one of Elizabeth Gaskell's novels, "Wives and Daughters", which I had just read.

            "Mama," I said, "could you please change and get ready? Aunty is coming to get you as Yi-Poh Sa-Yi is not feeling well."

 

            Instantly, I could see a shadow of worry on my grandmother's face. I could see that she was preparing herself for the worst. This was just as well, because when Yi-Poh Sa-Yi's daughter arrived, grief was clearly written on her face. Mama reached out to console her, and they all drove off.

            Later, I told my mum what I had said to Mama, and she was relieved that I had found a way of preparing Mama for the sad news.

 

            Both Mama and Yi-Poh Sa-Yi used to prepare achar-achar. This is the Peranakan version of pickles. It consists of vegetables such as cucumber, carrot, cauliflower and green chillies pickled with salt and vinegar. However, unlike the Chinese version, they are bathed in a golden-brown gravy, which contains ground peanuts, among other ingredients. Also, the green chillies are stuffed with finely shredded, incredibly sour strands of unripe papaya.

 

            Making achar-achar takes time, as the vegetables have to be washed, cut up, squeezed and then sun-dried for a day or so. However, assuming that the entire process has been rigorously carried out, the jars of pickles can be kept for a few months.

            We love eating this with char kway teow, our beef balls or any other dish with which pickles would be a good accompaniment.      

 

            Mama's version was slightly different from Yi-Poh Sa-Yi's in terms of some ingredients used. I think this made the achar uniquely their recipes, since each sister must have modified what was passed down to her from her mother to suit her own purposes and tastes.

Mama's Legacy

            Another time, during a University holiday, I felt rather unwell. This began during the day, but by evening, I was feeling so unwell that I put my head on the armrest. Mama stroked it and both she and mum were rather concerned about me. The next day, spots began appearing on my arms and we realized that I had contracted chickenpox.

            I took a taxi to Tan Tock Seng Hospital, where a doctor saw me and prescribed me medication.

           When I got home, I did not take the medicine at once, but waited until dinner time. My Aunt, who was a nurse, scolded me when she found out, as she said that the sooner I took the medicine, the better it would be for me.

            She was, of course, correct. The spots had appeared all over my face as well as on other parts of my body and were only arrested when I started taking the medication.

            Fortunately for me, it was the University holidays, so I had plenty of time to mope around the house while convalescing.

            Someone told Mama that she had to boil a certain vegetable and make me drink the water so that my skin would not be permanently stained by the spots. Mama very diligently saw to this and made sure that I drank this drink regularly. I still remember her continually making the effort to boil large quantities of the drink so that I could drink it whenever I felt thirsty and even when I did not.

            I really must have looked awful during this time, as one of my older cousins dropped by to pass something to Mama and he had the fright of his life when I stood up to face him. He let out a loud yelp of fright before Mama explained to him what I had contracted.

            Mama's efforts paid off and eventually I recovered from the chickenpox without any scarring whatsoever. To this day, I remember with great gratitude the tremendous amount of care she took of me.

            Mama's warmth was perhaps best expressed, for me, through the food that she cooked. The best instance of this, to me, was when she cooked "satay cherlop".

                                                                        

            This is the Peranakan version of satay, which is quite different from the Malay version. As with the Malay version, the meat is skewered on sticks. However, unlike the Malay version, the meat is stewed in a golden gravy which has been thickened with ground peanuts and which also contains chunks of pineapple and slices of tomato.

            Our version of satay can be eaten with ketupat (or pressed rice cakes), but we also eat it with bread (and normally prefer to). Chunks of cucumber and slices of onion can be added as side dishes, just as with Malay satay.

            Satay cherlop, unlike some of our other dishes, is not so spicy. Its gravy is mild, rich and soothing. This, together with the happy sensation of eating slightly more meat than usual, always contributes to giving me a warm sense of well-being and of being well-cared for. To me, it epitomises the warmth of Mama's love for us and the good care that she took of us.

            Once, when I was in school, our teacher asked us to write about a legacy that had been left to us. I wrote about my grandmother, about how she had given up her gold tree and belt when my grandfather lost his fortune after the war. Those were the sacrifices that she made for her family. However, looking back now over the years, I realise that her true legacy was the unswerving care with which she tended to us always.

            She was always up early in the mornings, bustling around to make breakfast for us. When any of us had to wake early, we would tell her the night before and she would make it her business to wake us on time. Now I realise that we did place a tremendous burden on her, because she used to tell us how she would sometimes wake up at night and shine a torch at her alarm clock. She was probably even afraid to fall asleep again lest she should oversleep.

            She continued in this way, also overseeing household chores and the preparation of almost every meal until she was eighty-six years old. By this time, she was really worn out. Sadly, her mind and body have progressively degenerated such that she is now incapable of moving on her own, or even of saying very much.

            We love her for all that she's done for us, all that she was and is. She was our Rock, stoic and unassuming, silent and strong.