Malay Heritage Sweets

Kuih apam is steamed cakes, made in a variety of colors.

Pasar tani means farmer’s market in Malay.

One can always find a big variety of fresh ingredients and food at such an event, which is held throughout Malaysia.

The last pasar tani that I visited was in Larkin, in the state of Johore.

In line with my interest, I was mostly drawn towards the traditional or heritage food.

One was the circular-shaped sweet snack called deram deram. It is made from rice flour and palm sugar which gives it the rich caramel color. There is an art to frying deram deram. The oil has to be at just the right temperature for the rings to be slightly crispy on the outside, while maintaining a soft texture on the inside.

Another favorite is kuih apam, which is steamed cakes. They are usually eaten for breakfast.

I remember my grandmother used to bring home these cakes from her early morning rounds at the Geylang Market. The cakes come in different colors, and as a child, I was attracted to the brighter ones, and would try to grab the pink one for myself.

Kuih apam is often served with grated coconut. As an adult, I realize that much of the enjoyment of this sweet is in the simultaneous play of contrast and complement. The pristine white of the grated coconut contrasts with the bright colors. A pinch of salt is usually added to the coconut, and this little bit of salty tang brings out the sweetness of the cakes.

Deram deram is a popular traditional sweet snack.

There is an art to frying deram deram.

Peanuts are universally popular snacks.

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Book Launch in California

This amazing cake was made to replicate my book and my childhood home that was on the cover of my book (see sidebar).

I’m very lucky that my book “Kampung Memories, A Life’s Journey Revisited” has been able to “travel” and present itself on both sides of the Pacific; and more importantly, has enabled me to share memories and insights with diverse people and readers.

“Kampung” means village in Malay, and the book revolves around the urban villages in Singapore before they were demolished for redevelopment. I grow up in such a kampung, and in the book, I weaved my memories with that of the people who used to live there.

I launched my book in Singapore in June this year, and recently, the first book launch/event in the United States was held in Santa Clara, northern California, at the Kababs and Curry’s Restaurant.

It was the brainchild of my friend Khir Johari, who is considered by his many friends as a Renaissance man. He and members of the Singapore and Malay communities in the San Francisco Bay Area took care of all the details of the event: everything was done elegantly, and all I needed to do was to show up.

There was batik to decorate the tables, a spread of Malay dishes prepared by the talented ladies from the community, and wonderful chai from the restaurant. One of the highlights was a chocolate cake, made to replicate my kampung house that was on the cover of the book.

Faridah, who made this amazing cake, said she took a few days to complete it. She decorated it with coconut trees and little pots of flowering plants made with brightly colored fondant. There was even a tiny replica of a sepak raga (a traditional Malay ball made of bamboo and rattan).

So on that Sunday afternoon in fall, we sat down in that cosy room, sharing and listening to stories that follow a path to our heritage and roots. There were also other Americans of different ancestry in that room. I hope, and I suppose I imagine this, that the book brings to their minds a dusty road where their fathers or grandfathers used to cycle, or all the strong women of their childhood, the ones who nurtured and held the families in their seemingly simple, humble ways.

Thank you to everyone who helped organized and showed up for the launch.

The author Sharifah (left) with Khir, the event’s creator, listening to the stories and ideas shared by the guests.

A group photo. The banner, handmade by Salizah, was pretty impressive.

I’m carefully cutting the cake with Faridah, who made the extraordinary cake.

Mee siam, a specialty noodle dish of Singapore Malays.

Kuih keria, Malay doughnuts made with sweet potato.

Playing Malay heritage games (left) batu serembat or five stones, and the congkak, a board game.

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Beginnings

Farhana’s henna decorated hands added a traditional touch of radiance.

On my recent trip to Singapore, I was lucky to be able to celebrate with my large, close-knit extended family, the wedding of a niece, Farhana and the engagement ceremonies of two nephews, Cassim and Ebrahim.

The Malay wedding is a bustling affair with hundreds of guests and relatives streaming in throughout the day, enjoying the camaraderie and the briyani rice spread.

The engagement ceremony, according to the Malay custom, usually takes place at the lady’s home. The elders of both families discuss issues such as the date of the marriage and the wedding dowry. The young woman is then presented with the engagement ring, and gifts, beautifully decorated, are also exchanged.

After the formal discussion, there will be lots of food and members of the two families chat and get to know each other.

I’m posting some close-ups of the events.

….Love still makes the world go round.

Putting together the wedding cake.

The wedding cake: a lovely centerpiece.

A Malay water jar for guests to wash their hands before a meal. (Wedding photos taken by a professional photographer.)

A man who knows his flowers: Ebrahim hand-picked the flowers for the bouquet to be presented to his fiance.

The box with the engagement ring, decorated by Sarah, the artist in the family.

Cassim’s gifts to his fiance were carefully chosen to reflect her preferences. (Pic by Shireen)

Fine tableware and a delectable spread graced the engagement ceremony.

For another post on a Malay wedding, please see The Life of a Malay Wedding.

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A Sweet Tooth = Nice People

I came across an interesting study which indicates that people with a sweet tooth are nicer people.

Researchers from North Dakota State University and Gettysburg College reported in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology that people with a sweet tooth tend to be more agreeable and also more willing to help others.

Well, I sat down and thought about all the people I know known for their sweet tooth, and I think there might be some truth in this correlation.

But then again, I might be a tad biased as in our family we have had three generations of folks with a sweet tooth, and needing a dessert or a touch of sweet to end lunch or dinner.

And I am one of them. Sometimes, fruit can do the job, but definitely not all the time. We need a real dessert made with sugar and everything nice that comes with it. It could be something simple like a piece of chocolate or something more elaborate like the traditional Malay cakes.

One of my Mother’s favorites was ice cream with canned fruit cocktail. This dessert reminds me of the 70s, and sometimes, I serve it with vanilla ice cream for a bit of retro fun.

I like the traditional Malay name for dessert pencuci mulut, which is translated to mean something to cleanse the palate. It sounds courtly, and also makes it sound as if dessert has a beneficial function!

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It Takes a Village….

The road to publishing my book has been a fulfilling journey.

There is the often quoted African proverb “It takes a village to raise a child.”

I think it may also be quite true to say that it takes a village to self-publish a book. I have had so much help along the way to the publication of “Kampung Memories, A Life Journey, Revisited”, a book that is very important to me, that I will try to thank as many people as I can.

I would like to thank:

• Authors who have shared their experiences. Throughout the whole journey, I read many blog posts and books where self-published authors share their experiences and insight. This was valuable information for me, and I, in turn, would be happy to share with anyone whatever I have learnt.

• My family and friends who have helped and supported me in countless ways.

• Everyone who came to the book launch and the reading/discussion events.

• Everyone who has read my book, or any part of it. The reward and wish of every writer is that his work is read and shared. Feedback is also much appreciated. At one of the readings, a guest thanked me for writing the book as he grew up in the years after the kampungs (villages) were gone from Singapore’s landscape, and he has little idea of life in that time.

• Everyone who helped me with practical advice on marketing, especially Isrizal and Sharifah, an aspect which was a rather steep learning curve for me.

• Ibrahim of Wardah Books and Dan of Select Books for their belief in, and support of independent or indie writers.

The author, Sharifah (left) after signing a book at the launch. We are dressed in baju kurung, the traditional Malay costume.

Meet the author session at Select Books. Click on pic for more photos.

Links to:

Post in a heritage Singapore blog

Radio interview on “Kampung Memories”

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The Slender King of the Trees

In the tropics, the coconut tree has often been called “king of the trees”. The tree, known in Malay as pokok kelapa, not only provides shade, but also has different uses at different stages of its growth.

People of the tropics know that the juice of the young coconut makes a refreshing drink. It also has a medicinal use. When given to a child afflicted with chicken pox, it is  believed to lessen the ‘heatiness’ of the body.

When the coconut ripens, the flesh is grated, mixed with water, and squeezed to obtain its milk called santan in Malay. Santan is to the Malay cook what soy sauce is to his Chinese counterpart.  It is a base for cooking different types of curries and gravies, as well as for desserts, usually sweetened with palm sugar.

After the coconut gratings were squuezed for santan, we fed them to the family hens.

- excepted from my book Kampung Memories, a semi-memoir of childhood memories and Malay culture.

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Laundry Day and Elbow Grease

The clothes were scrubbed against the washboard to remove the stains and grime.

How nice it is to drop a load of laundry in the washing machine, then go back to the book or TV, relax, while the laundry is being done! In the days before washing machines were affordable and widespread, lots of elbow grease were required on laundry day. Here’s an except from my upcoming book “Kampung Memories”:

“In those days, laundry was done manually or completely by hand. Washing machines were not in the picture at all. Most households had a person designated to do all the laundry, or often a washer-woman offered her service to the households.

The woman would come to the house several times week to do the laundry. I remember we once had a washer-woman who was quite a fascinating character. She was a stout lady, friendly but did not talk much. She often rolled a cigarette after she had done her washing, stood with one hand on her hips and smoked while seemingly lost in her thoughts. Even as a kid, I could see that she was a tough lady, not easily intimidated or ordered around.

One of the laundry items that caught my attention and imagination as a child was nila or indigo, a product that makes white clothes whiter and brighter. At that time, not only schoolchildren wore white shirts and blouses, many men also wore white shirts to work.

Nila was sold as a blue-colored soap bar. You cut a small slice and mixed it in a pail of water. It would turn the water a bright blue, and I enjoyed waiting for that “magical” moment. The white clothes which had been washed would be dipped in the blue water for a final rinse, then hung on the clothesline to dry.”

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The Life of a Malay Wedding

Iqbal and Haslina arrived in traditional Malay costume for the bersanding ceremony, the day’s main event.

A wedding is like a microcosm of life. Family, friends, hope, past, present and future all meet on that special day.

On my recent trip home, I was fortunate to attend the wedding of my cousin’s daughter, Haslina. It was wonderful to meet again so many people who have been a part of my life, including former neighbors whom I have not met in years.

Though the Malay community in Singapore lives in a thoroughly modern city, much of our heritage still permeates our lives. For instance, weddings still remain big, community affairs. This dates back from the kampung (which means village) days when all the neighbors and relatives pitched in to help with the preparations and celebrations. And relatives from Malaysia, and sometimes Indonesia, made the trip over to spend a few days with their relatives on the island.

The number of guests can easily be between 500 to 1,000 people. We have a large extended family, and my cousin Rashid is active in the community, so his guest list was quite extensive. There was a constant stream of guests from lunch time till dinner time.

Malays have been pretty adaptable people and have found ways to merge or synthesize the new and the old. In the old days, tents were set up in the front yard for the wedding celebrations. Today, most Singaporeans live in high-rise flats and apartments. To accommodate the number of guests, the spacious lobby of the apartment building, or what is known locally as the void deck, is utilized as the wedding venue. I think this is a uniquely Singaporean feature.

The newlyweds taking a little rest.

Weddings used to be the launching pad for budding musicians who entertained the guests. Today, live music is not such a common feature of weddings. Haslina’s wedding had a band which played Hindi songs, and it was really fun listening to the popular hits.

On Haslina’s side, we celebrate our Malay and Indian Muslim roots, while the groom, Iqbal, celebrates his Pakistani traditions. And this was seen in the costumes and the two groups of musicians and dancers, the kompang and the bhangra, that heralded the arrival of the couple.

Haslina and Iqbal make a wonderful couple, adding another branch to our kinship tree. And thanks to my cousin Rashid and his wife Masita for giving me an opportunity to get close to my heritage and all the folks that I cherish.

The sounds of the kompang (Malay hand drum) musicians bring excitement at a wedding as they signal the arrival of the bride and groom.

The bhangra musicians arriving. Bhangra, a dance and music which originated in the Punjab region of India and Pakistan, is popular at weddings which celebrate a connected heritage.

Family and guests gathered to watch the bhangra dancers. (Watch the video clip below.)

The band entertained the guests with classic and new Hindi songs.

The “kitchen” area is the unseen HQ of a Malay wedding, serving briani rice and side dishes to a constant stream of guests.

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Musings in September

This year, Eid celebrations fall in the month of September. Eid, or Hari Raya Aidilfitri as it is known in the Malay language, is the festival that celebrates the end of the month of Ramadan.

Ramadan is the holy month in Islam where believers fast from dawn to sunset, and also abstain from negative thoughts and behavior, with the goal of strengthening one’s faith and character.

Hari Raya celebrates the victory of fulfilling the month of fasting, and it is also a time of renewal: both spiritual renewal and the renewal of ties among family, friends and the community.

The word “renewal” is a beautiful word. It connotes the linkage between a foundation that is already there and a rejuvenation, often with something new or improved. Embedded in the word is also the essence of hope, a quality that we all need through good and tough times.

Hari Raya celebrations organized by the Malaysian Islamic Foundation of North America (MIFNA), a voluntary, non-profit organization which strives to create a sense of community in California.

The ketupat,or rice dumplings in pouches made from palm leaf, is a much loved Hari Raya food. In our family, we gathered the night before to weave the pouches (shown above), fill them with rice, and boil them in a huge pot. (Photo from The Star)

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Dedicated to Vote

I have always been amazed how women all over the world make a strong commitment to vote.

I continue to be fascinated by the fact that across generations, even in countries where women are perceived to have a low profile in public life, women make the effort to make their way to the polling stations, and often stand for hours to make their voices heard.

My thoughts on this issue were awakened when I thought of my grandmother and grandaunt. Like many women from their generation,they were not highly educated and their lives revolved mainly around domestic concerns.

But when elections came around in Singapore, they were tremendously eager to participate.

On election day, you could feel the excitement in the household early in the morning. I remember watching my grandmother prepare for the event in the same manner as though she was going to a wedding. She would carefully select a kebaya (traditional Malay blouse) and a sarong from her cupboard. And before she left the house, she would don a matching selendang (scarf), and a dab of her favorite cologne. I imagine her friends did the same. At any rate, they were always the first to arrive at the polling station, well groomed and fresh.

Many years forward, I watched clips of Iraqis voting in 2005. I am against the war in Iraq, but I was still amazed at the womenfolk’s dedication in going out to vote, in what was said to be the country’s first democratic election in 50 years. And this week, the world saw the same enthusiasm from the women in Iran.

I believe the reason for this dedication is that for some women, voting is the biggest, or in same instances, the only chance for them to impact public life, or to have a say in it.

In general, women take part in the bluster and  intrigue of politics in much smaller numbers than men.  But women are experts at running daily lives, including navigating the nooks and corners of life  that are not glamorous but necessary for normal functioning. Perhaps intuitively, they know that whatever decisions made by the elected government will have repercussions that seep deep down into these nooks and corners.  And they will have the main responsibility to deal with them, away from the public eye.

And so, to all women voters in the world, past, present and future, and especially to those who have to walk longer or harder to get to the polling stations, we salute you.

Iranian women voting in the city of Qom. (Pic from TPM, Newscom/AFP)

Maasai women voting in western Kenya in 2008. (Pic from BBC News)

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