Easy Malaysian comfort food – from morning buns to sticky toffee pudding (yes, really)

Telegraph

6 days ago

'Have you eaten yet?' is a common greeting in Hokkien, one of the four dialects spoken by my family. It's the question my mother asks me most frequently, posed in various languages and tones of voice. Whether I'm happy, sad, frustrated, confused or in a hurry, rain or shine, it's always, 'Have you eaten yet?'
By the age of three, I was asking that question in two different languages – my mother taught me a hybrid of Malay and English. Although I grew up in Glasgow, I was quintessentially Malaysian too, a feeling many mixed children understand, that sense of belonging to multiple places. I would play with a plastic Chinese-lantern fish brought back from Malaysia and boast to my primary school friends about receiving the red packets given during Lunar New Year.
Connecting to my roots meant drawing on my mum's knowledge and experience of Malaysia. Mum cooked a lot, too, often recreating dishes from memory. My own version of Manglish (Malay/English) emerged primarily from food-related words, though there were occasionally some endearing references thrown in.
'Piffy, Big Fat Noodles – ready!' Little did I know that this phrase would play such a significant role in my life. My mum would bellow it from the bottom of the stairs, and I'd come running down the 19 steps that led to the basement kitchen in our flat. To this day, I'm not entirely sure why she called me Piffy, but she did all the time. Whatever the reason, I'd be there in a flash, sitting eagerly at our dinner table. For the first 18 years of my life, I didn't know the real name of the Big Fat Noodles. It's char kuay teow ('char-kway-tee-ow'), arguably Malaysia's most famous noodle dish.
My mum's ability to transport you to another place through her food was my initial guide to connecting with Malaysia. When I think about the dish that first introduced me to my heritage, it was Big Fat Noodles. It's become so important to me because my mum made it for me from such a young age.
Food has the power to initiate conversation. The nuanced relationship between emotion and food is such a tie when it comes to identifying where you feel like you come from. I find food so symbolic of traditions, culture and identity. I've made it my life's mission to bring together seemingly disparate ingredients to create dishes that are more magical as a whole, greater than the sum of their parts.
In recent years, I've found myself connecting with my mixed-race heritage more confidently than ever before by embracing my culture and identity via food. It's through the creation of my food and the daily operations of my restaurant, Gaga in Glasgow, that I've felt this connection strengthen the most. Food holds an immense significance in defining who I am. Coming from a Malaysian-Scottish background, I've learnt to nourish my soul with it and use cooking as a comforting bridge to my roots.
Food was also so integral to my mum's teachings. She would teach me how to listen to the sizzle of something we were cooking, how to toss pasta with chopsticks, how to make a full banquet out of leftovers and embrace our no-waste culture.
I experienced a feeling of 'otherness' as I grew up, but I've discovered it to be my greatest strength, being from two distinct places that have equal significance and influence on me – the ' sama sama ', or same-same, but different.
I believe that in this modern era of constant movement and travel, this notion will resonate with many. With these recipes I want to broaden your ideas of 'authenticity', and to encourage you to cook in a way that nourishes both your body and soul.