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Craving a snack? Go bananas for the ‘pisang goreng' and ‘kuih bakul' at USJ 2 Goreng Pisang in Subang Jaya
Craving a snack? Go bananas for the ‘pisang goreng' and ‘kuih bakul' at USJ 2 Goreng Pisang in Subang Jaya

Malay Mail

time4 days ago

  • Lifestyle
  • Malay Mail

Craving a snack? Go bananas for the ‘pisang goreng' and ‘kuih bakul' at USJ 2 Goreng Pisang in Subang Jaya

SUBANG JAYA, June 1 — As a kid, I used to take the bus (read: small van) home from school in Subang. I lived the furthest, so I was always the last one off. Most of the other kids lived nearby, so after the initial flurry, it was often just me and Mr Wadi, the driver, for the next hour and a half. I spent many a sweltering afternoon in that van listening to Oasis, wondering if my parents would ever 'get' me, and whether my crush thought my Tintin haircut was cool. She didn't. Look for the stall with loads of bananas. — Picture by Ethan Lau But on some afternoons, Mr Wadi would stop for a snack and come back with a few pisang goreng from a roadside stall, which helped soften the blow. Sometimes it was in Kampung Sungai Kayu Ara, other times in Ara Damansara. The best thing about pisang goreng is that no matter how good or bad it is, it still does the job. The inside is sweet, soft, golden deliciousness. — Picture by Ethan Lau Some days they're crispy and hot from the oil, sweet and soft inside. Other days, they're cold and a bit too firm, a little too starchy. Most pisang goreng are satisfying, but only a select few are truly special. In the neighbourhood of USJ 2, just across the busy road from Da Men Mall, a small collection of brick-and-mortar roadside gerai has stood for decades beneath the shade of trees, facing the popular Restoran Le Kwang kopitiam. The pisang goreng stall here is a longtime community favourite, but they have also gained a following for their kuih bakul, which is battered and deep-fried nian gao sandwiched between yam and sweet potato, along with fried popiah too. The 'kuih bakul' looks huge, but it's mostly air from the puffy batter. — Picture by Ethan Lau I arrived a little after 10 in the morning, just after they opened, and secured some small goreng pisang (RM1/pc), kuih bakul (RM2/pc) and popiah (RM2/pc). The larger sizes of bananas weren't available yet, particularly the XL size. They only start frying those closer to noon. No matter. These smaller varieties have everything I look for in my ideal pisang goreng anyway. Sweet and soft after frying, the insides turn into a golden custard that delivers an abundance of gooey banana delight. The batter is on the thicker side, but that's not a knock. Instead of a crisp, light shell that shatters on touch, this one puffs up all cragged and crazy, almost like good fish and chip batter. I suspect it comes from a mix of wheat flour and corn or potato starch. If you can, try to get a fresh batch while it is still hot. It makes the difference between merely good and great. There's nothing like that first bite: a loud, resounding crunch that gives way to sweet, soft banana gold. This puffy batter also turns the kuih bakul into huge, jagged pieces that sound like rocks tumbling around as she picks them off the rack. They're intimidating at a glance, but all that crust gives way to two laughably thin slices of yam and sweet potato. Which is kind of a good thing anyway, because the best part is the sweet, sticky nian gao in the centre. The 'nian gao' used hovers between oozey and sticky. — Picture by Ethan Lau A lot of other places serve it oozing and melted, but to me, the mark of a great nian gao is one that mostly keeps its gummy, glutinous texture even after deep-frying. This version teeters on the verge of melting, but still holds its glue-like consistency. The popiah is more than decent, packed with plenty of sweet, soft sengkuang, but the focus of any visit here should be on the bananas and kuih bakul. It's worth seeking out even if you don't live in Subang. If I had tried these when I was still going to school nearby, they might have snapped some sense into me and made me give up on that ridiculous haircut. But I doubt it. The 'popiah' is a decent choice too. — Picture by Ethan Lau USJ 2 Goreng PisangGerai Nasi Lemak dan Kuih (facing Restoran Le Kwang), Jalan USJ 2/2c, USJ 2, Subang Jaya, SelangorOpen Tuesday to Sunday, 10am-5pm. Tel: 011-7407 2181 * This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal. * Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems. * Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram @eatenlau for more musings on food and mildly self-deprecating attempts at humour.

In Damansara Perdana, an awesome chicken ‘mandi' and ‘shawarma' await at the unassuming Charisma Arab and Pastry
In Damansara Perdana, an awesome chicken ‘mandi' and ‘shawarma' await at the unassuming Charisma Arab and Pastry

Malay Mail

time25-05-2025

  • General
  • Malay Mail

In Damansara Perdana, an awesome chicken ‘mandi' and ‘shawarma' await at the unassuming Charisma Arab and Pastry

PETALING JAYA, May 25 — 'The chicken mandi is not ready yet, sir. You want shawarma?' I nod, pay, and take the only seat at the lone plastic table. It's not hot, exactly, but the air on the lower ground floor of Perdana Shopping Centre is stale and still, the kind that clings to your skin. I start to wonder if this is another tip gone wrong. It's 11 a.m. I'm sitting in front of Charisma Arab and Pastry, which has already been open for an hour. The chicken mandi, the only thing my friend told me to come here for, won't be ready for another hour. Behind me, a man I take to be of African descent is talking to two South Asian men who've set up tables advertising their tailoring services. He wants a suit made for a wedding coming up soon. A scene like this is a common sight at this end of Damansara Perdana. My friend, who works nearby and gave me this tip, replies to my text. She says it's (Charisma) always like that, and they're never in a rush to deliver. I'm amused. The chicken 'shawarma' is unexpectedly awesome and bursting with the flavour of 'toum', the garlicky, lemony sauce often used in 'shawarma'. — Picture by Ethan Lau A few minutes later, my chicken shawarma (RM14) arrives with a friendly smile. I can feel its warmth through the wrapping paper and plastic, and even smell the toasted flatbread as I walk to my car. Fine, I think to myself. If this ends up good, I'll come by again for the main event. I unwrap my prize, the exterior soft in some spots and flaky in others. The chicken inside is well seasoned and thankfully not dry or rubbery, but it takes a backseat to the generous spread of thick creamy toum, the Levantine garlic sauce made with garlic, lemon juice and olive oil that is synonymous with shawarma. Each bite delivers a refreshing burst of garlic and lemon piled onto thin shreds of crunchy lettuce and onion. I'll admit, expectations weren't high when I walked past their rotating spit out front. But they've just been blown out of the water. The vertical spit for their chicken and beef 'shawarma' is located out front, near the entrance. — Picture by Ethan Lau On another day, I get a beef shawarma (RM18), partly for reference, but mostly because I haven't stopped thinking about the first one. Here, the garlicky and citrusy character of the toum is less pronounced, with the beef taking up more of the spotlight. The addition of chopped pickles is a nice touch, cutting through the richness of the meat. As good as both shawarmas were, they were only ever meant to be the sideshow. Though it originated in Yemen, mandi rice is eaten across the Arabian Peninsula and the Levant. In Malaysia, it is a staple at nearly every restaurant serving Arab or Arab-adjacent cuisine, typically slow-cooked chicken or lamb seasoned with a blend of spices, served over basmati rice cooked in a similarly spiced stock. The beef 'shawarma' has a heavier character, hence the addition of pickles. — Picture by Ethan Lau Charisma's chicken mandi (RM15) comes with a whole leg, burnished deep yellow with splotches of red. The skin is soft and sticky, pulling apart to reveal tender flesh beneath. It sits on a bed of fluffy basmati rice, dyed in shades of yellow and orange. The entire dish is imbued with a deep, intensely smoky character that no microwave-safe container in the world can hold back, though it is not so overwhelming as to suggest the use of liquid smoke. The rice and chicken are layered with cardamom, cumin and other warm spices, all building on that savoury, smoky base. On the side, a small container of smoky, spiced stock confirms that it is simply the fruit of low and slow patience. The slow-cooked chicken 'mandi' is pull-apart tender. — Picture by Ethan Lau Still, slow-cooked dishes like this can sometimes feel heavy or flat. It calls for something bright and refreshing, which arrives in the second container. Inside is something resembling zahawig, a Yemeni sauce of tomato and cilantro. It is cool and tangy, a fresh breath of life that cuts through the smoke and spice and ties it all together. Charisma is yet another entry in the long canon of places that prove deliciousness can be found in every corner, if you're willing to look. This isn't quite a restaurant. It's more of a takeaway counter, tucked inside a sleepy neighbourhood mall with just enough space to wait. Come with that in mind and you might walk away with more than you expected, as I did. But don't show up hoping for a sit-down meal, only to turn your misplaced expectations into someone else's problem. The food here speaks for itself. You just have to listen. Charisma Arab and Pastry is located on the LG floor of Perdana Shopping Centre, between Hank's and Jaya Grocer. — Picture by Ethan Lau Charisma Arab and Pastry LG (facing Jaya Grocer), Perdana Shopping Centre, Jalan PJU 8/1, Damansara Perdana, Petaling Jaya, Selangor Open Wednesday to Monday, 10am-9pm Tel: 019-202 3124 * This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal. * Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems. * Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram @eatenlau for more musings on food and mildly self-deprecating attempts at humour.

In Cheras, Fang Hong Curry Mee serves up a little bit of everything — from curry mee, to Hakka ‘zha yuk' and Sichuanese stir-fried pork and peppers
In Cheras, Fang Hong Curry Mee serves up a little bit of everything — from curry mee, to Hakka ‘zha yuk' and Sichuanese stir-fried pork and peppers

Malay Mail

time15-05-2025

  • General
  • Malay Mail

In Cheras, Fang Hong Curry Mee serves up a little bit of everything — from curry mee, to Hakka ‘zha yuk' and Sichuanese stir-fried pork and peppers

KUALA LUMPUR, May 15 — At a glance, Fang Hong Curry Mee looks exactly like what its name suggests: a curry mee joint. But it is also so much more. Housed in a quiet row of shops facing a residential area in Taman Sri Bahtera, Cheras, the first signs that there may be more than meets the eye are the large tables, some with lazy susans and tablecloths, and rows upon rows of laminated pictures on the walls depicting a repertoire far wider and deeper than just curry mee. There are steamed, fried or braised fish heads, slick with tauchu and bitter gourd; chicken steamed in a herbal, gingery broth; and large plates of braised pork belly, tofu, and curry fish head. Some dishes are old-school Malaysian-Chinese dai chow staples. Others are distinctly Chinese and lean Sichuanese in both spirit and heat, a reflection of the woman running front-of-house, who hails from the province. And yet, for all the variety, the curry mee remains the anchor. It's the name on the signboard, the default order, the thing that still draws first-timers and regulars alike through the door. There's the signature 'king' curry mee (RM16.80), loaded with hunks of chicken and taufu pok, then piled high with squid, prawns, fish cake and cockles. The regular curry mee comes with fried 'fu chuk' and 'siew yoke', though the curry broth is clearly based on chicken curry. — Picture by Ethan Lau The regular version (RM10) is more restrained but no less satisfying, topped with siew yoke and fried fu chuk alongside the usual chicken and taufu pok. What both share is the same rich, thick broth. It carries a mild, lingering heat and leans a little sweet, though it's not overly creamy or heavy with coconut milk. There's none of the shrimp-y savoury depth or herbaceous lift you'd expect from a typical curry laksa – in fact, this might be the furthest thing from curry laksa I've ever had, while still calling itself curry mee. What it almost certainly is, at heart, is chicken curry – potatoes and all – with noodles and toppings thrown in. But it's a very tasty chicken curry, and the jar of sambal on the table offers a quick savoury boost, curiously rich with the flavour of dried shrimps. Fang Hong is popular with regulars from the neighbourhood, all mostly old. — Picture by Ethan Lau On a recent afternoon, the air was thick with the rowdy cadence of Hakka, spoken by a crowd of regulars streaming in, the overwhelming majority of them seemingly over the age of 50. The chef emerged briefly, a short, balding man who spoke a mix of Cantonese and Hakka and seemed to be on a first-name basis with several of the regulars, before disappearing back into the kitchen. Soon, dishes began to appear. Sichuan-style 'xiao chao rou' is as fragrant as it is bold and delicious, and is a hit with the regulars. — Picture by Ethan Lau Some, like the Sichuan 小炒肉 (xiao chao rou, RM28), filled the room with a heady perfume of Sichuan peppercorns, red and green peppers, leeks and onions, wok-fried with thin slices of pork belly. It's the kind of dish made for rice – punchy, fragrant and deeply moreish – and it's easy to see why the regulars have embraced it. Other dishes are closer to home, like the Hakka zha yuk (RM25), a speciality of the chef and a triumphant balance of soft, jiggly pork belly and wood ear fungus, springy and slightly rubbery, in a savoury sauce boosted with nam yu, red fermented bean curd. The chef here specialises in a few Hakka dishes, including braised 'zha yuk'. — Picture by Ethan Lau Taking us home were a pair of tried and true classics: sweet and sour pork (RM22) and claypot kangkung (RM14). Serviceable versions of both are easy enough to find elsewhere, but they were especially good here. The craggy, crispy nuggets of pork were coated – not drenched – in a thick, tangy sauce, retaining their crunch to great effect. And the kangkung, while seemingly plain, was nothing to scoff at. Even plain old claypot 'kangkung' is well-executed here. — Picture by Ethan Lau Crunchy, juicy and packed with dried shrimp, it was a quiet winner. It's a curious one, for sure. A rather unique rendition of curry mee, the Sichuan stir-fries, Hakka stews, textbook sweet and sour pork – but the regulars don't seem to mind. If anything, they've taken it in stride, eating without missing a beat, as people do when the food is good, and they know they'll keep coming. Look for the plain but easily spotted yellow sign. — Picture by Ethan Lau Restoran Fang Hong Curry Mee 47, Jalan Jalak, Taman Sri Bahtera, Kuala Lumpur Open Friday to Wednesday, 7am-3pm and Friday to Sunday, 5.30-9pm Tel: 018-278 8699 * This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal. * Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems. * Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram @eatenlau for more musings on food and mildly self-deprecating attempts at humour.

Hien Kee Fish Ball Noodles in Pudu serves up a cosy, comforting bowl of fish ball noodles
Hien Kee Fish Ball Noodles in Pudu serves up a cosy, comforting bowl of fish ball noodles

Malay Mail

time04-05-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Malay Mail

Hien Kee Fish Ball Noodles in Pudu serves up a cosy, comforting bowl of fish ball noodles

KUALA LUMPUR, May 4 — 'You must be the only kid that doesn't like fish balls. What's wrong with you?' And more gems from my father, coming to a memoir near you. Yes, growing up, I didn't like the ubiquitous crowd-pleaser of kid-friendly local food: the humble fish ball. I could never understand the appeal of a plain, bouncy (almost artificially so) ball that tasted of nothing distinct. Then again, I was (and still am) perfectly content with a nine-piece box of 'chicken' nuggets and no fewer than four packets of the definitely artificial 'Tangy BBQ' sauce — so what do I know? What I do know now is that Hien Kee holds the answers with its homey, comforting fish ball noodles. Hien Kee is located in a public housing block off Jalan Loke Yew. — Picture by Ethan Lau Tucked beneath a public housing block on Jalan Loke Yew, Hien Kee has been a staple for nearby residents for decades. The small shop seats very few inside, instead setting up tables along the five-foot way in front and next door. Parking is a major headache, and many diners simply park illegally on the main road. The menu is short and sweet: fish ball noodles (RM9), served with four saito fish balls (made from wolf herring or ikan parang), four slices of fish cake, and a single fish skin wanton — a speciality also known as a UFO elsewhere, thanks to its resemblance to a flying saucer. An extra order of 'liu' is always a good idea, pictured here are fish balls, fish cake and fish skin 'wantons'. — Picture by Ethan Lau More of these liu can be ordered on the side, along with fish maw (RM10), a chewy favourite of mine. We got an extra bowl with everything inside: five fish balls (RM5), five fish skin wantons (RM5) and a large portion of fish cake (RM6). Far from the uncomfortably rubbery yet bland fish balls I was accustomed to, these are springy with the subtle, mild flavour of fish. In fact, those two words could describe nearly everything here, particularly the clean-tasting, slightly sweet soup that does exactly what you want it to do: soothe and relieve your palate, and in turn, make you feel a little better. Hien Kee's fish maw is delightfully spongy without any off-putting fishy aroma. — Picture by Ethan Lau The rest of the bites are more about texture than flavour, especially the rustic fish cake, which is more enjoyable in thick-cut pieces from the extra order. The fish skin wantons are tender morsels of slipper fish skin wrapped around tightly packed balls of ground pork. The most song hau — Cantonese for an enjoyable mouthfeel — has to be the fish maw, which is spongy, satisfying, and free from the off-putting fishy aroma that usually dogs it. The only modification that might improve on all this is a request so popular it's listed on the menu on the wall: an extra plate of crispy pork lard (RM2). What arrives is a small dip plate of crispy, solid lard sitting in a pool of more liquid lard, topped with crispy, sweet shallots. These add the perfect amount of oomph to both the noodles — even the dry konlo version is pretty understated — and particularly, the gentle soup. Make sure to ask for it. Extra pork lard makes everything taste better. — Picture by Ethan Lau I'm no longer a kid (up for debate), but now I do enjoy a good fish ball (not up for debate). As for what's wrong with me? Maybe one day I'll find the answer in another place like Hien Kee. For now, this'll do. Hien Kee Fish Ball Noodles 24, Jalan Loke Yew, Pudu, Kuala Lumpur. Open Tuesday to Sunday, 8am-9pm Tel: 017-252 5012 / 016-668 3755 * This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal. * Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems. * Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram @eatenlau for more musings on food and mildly self-deprecating attempts at humour.

From Isan to KL: Mama Lek is back, bringing their excellent Thai beef noodles from Setapak to Wisma Cosway
From Isan to KL: Mama Lek is back, bringing their excellent Thai beef noodles from Setapak to Wisma Cosway

Yahoo

time27-04-2025

  • Business
  • Yahoo

From Isan to KL: Mama Lek is back, bringing their excellent Thai beef noodles from Setapak to Wisma Cosway

KUALA LUMPUR, Apr 27 — A little over two years ago, Malay Mail's Lee Khang Yi wrote about Mama Lek, a small, family-run stall in Setapak that serves excellent Thai beef noodles. The family hails from Kelantan, and Mama Lek herself is originally from the Isan region in northeastern Thailand. It was a humble operation, but the noodles were a hit — 'a home run' for my colleague — and in 2024, Mama Lek was recognised with a Thai Select Award by the Malaysian office of Thailand's Department of International Trade Promotion (DITP). They announced plans to relocate in October last year, and earlier this week, Mama Lek debuted as a full-fledged restaurant on the ground floor of Wisma Cosway. Here, they face stiff competition from the many eateries offering affordable, hulking portions (like a chicken chop for RM8) to the hordes of office workers pouring through the building at lunch hour. It's only been a week, but Mama Lek has already proven to be a hit with the office lunch crowd. — Picture by Ethan Lau But when I visited at half past one on a weekday, Mama Lek was bouncing like a club on Friday night. Thankfully, unlike a club, the wait was much shorter, not even five minutes, and inside, the place smelled far better: eau de boeuf over vapes and bad BO. Aside from the obvious shift in atmosphere (namely air conditioning), there are now a few branding flourishes: printed bowls, messages on the chopstick holders, and a card on 'how to enjoy Thai beef noodles like a Thai,' with instructions for seasoning using the condiment caddy, which includes fish sauce, chilli flakes, chilli oil and chilli vinegar, and for making your own nam jim with the latter two. Not sure what to do with the condiments? The card has you covered. — Picture by Ethan Lau You now order via a QR code, and the options span the gamut: beef ball noodles (RM16.90 for 5 balls), braised beef and balls (RM23.90), fresh beef and balls (RM21.50), beef tripe and tendon (RM25.80), and the signature beef mix (RM33.50) with a little bit of everything: braised beef, fresh sliced beef, tripe, tendon, tongue, and beef balls. There's also a tom yum variation on the beef noodles, and, staying true to their pork-free roots, the only non-beef alternative is chicken noodle soup. Understandably, prices are higher than at the old location, but that's expected when you move into a city-centre building. I settled for the mix, though they had run out of tongue when I visited and made up the difference with other parts of the cow. The broth is every bit as magical as promised: a thick, heavyset, beefcake of a broth, teeming with depth and collagen for a luscious mouthfeel. It gets even better with a touch of fish sauce and chilli vinegar — the beefy flavours are bedded in, and the acidity lifts everything just a bit. Make sure to make your own 'nam jim' with the chilli oil and vinegar. — Picture by Ethan Lau It's perfect for dipping. — Picture by Ethan Lau The thin slices of just-cooked beef are best dipped into a nam jim of chilli oil and vinegar, spicy and savoury with just the right amount of tang. The brisket is impressively tender, and so are the soft and slippery tendons. Magic in a bowl. It's heartening to see a humble family-run stall make the leap into a proper restaurant without losing the soul of what made them great in the first place. The bowls may be branded now, and the air-conditioning much appreciated, but the essence is still the same: rich broth, tender beef, and a mother's love and care in every detail. It can be hard to snap a discreet photo of the front when the family running it is as friendly as they are — Eric, in particular, is very warm and approachable. — Picture by Ethan Lau Mama Lek G-37, Cosway Guesthouse, Jalan Raja Chulan, Kuala Lumpur. Open Monday to Satuday, 11am-6pm Tel: 010-988 8995 Facebook: Instagram: * This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal. * Follow us on Instagram for more food gems. * Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram for more musings on food and mildly self-deprecating attempts at humour.

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