All About Mum – Page 4 – Peter Tan

The Quest For Delicious Roti Babi

Roti babi from Kedai Makanan Yut Kee in Jalan Dang Wangi.

Roti babi literally means pig bread. It is actually bread with pork filling. I am not sure if it is Nyonya or Hainanese in origin because Nyonya recipe books have it too but the ingredients have a strong Hainanese influence. Whatever its origins, I love it nonetheless. Mum used to make roti babi once in a blue moon. It is difficult to find roti babi that tastes like the ones she used to make.

I do not have the exact recipe but I did watch when she made it. It was a lot of work. That was why she did not make it often. The main ingredient for the stuffing is minced pork and crab meat. The crabs are steamed and the meat removed from the shell. Cabbage, carrots, onions and coriander are coarsely chopped. All these are then mixed together with thick soy sauce, light soy sauce and pepper.

Roti babi from Kedai Makanan Yut Kee in Jalan Dang Wangi.

Finely chopped garlic is stir fried in the kuali with cooking oil until fragrant. The mixture is then added in and stir fried until the meat is cooked. She would usually have bought several loaves of unsliced bread from the bakery. One loaf makes four thick slices. A slit is made on one side of the crust and the mixture carefully stuffed inside. The bread is then coated with beaten eggs and deep fried until golden brown. The dipping sauce is usually Lea and Perrins Worcestershire Sauce with cut red chillies.

As a kid, I used to dislike roti babi because it was greasy, cabbage was not one of my favourite vegetables, and the taste of Worcestershire sauce made me nauseous. Over the years, I acquired a liking for French toasts which is what roti babi partially is. Now, I am hankering for roti babi although I cannot have too much of it. My low-protein diet only allows at most half a portion.

Roti babi from Georgetown Penang at Lot 10 Hu Tong.

Here in Kuala Lumpur, I only know of two places that serves roti babi. Kedai Makanan Yut Kee at Jalan Dang Wangi is as authentic as Hainanese kopitiams can be. They serve roti babi and pork chop, among others. Yut Kee’s roti babi filling is small bits of sliced pork and looked rather pale for the lack of thick soy sauce. It exuded a familiar aroma but the taste was somewhat different from what I have come to like.

The other is at the newly opened food court called Hu Tong at lower ground level of Lot 10. Wuan took me there specifically because the food court serves non-halal food. There is even a Klang bak kut teh stall. Wuan wanted to order that but they were already sold out by 6.00 pm. The stall that serves roti babi, aptly named Georgetown Penang, also sells a variety of popular Penang hawker food such as laksa, Hokkien mee and char koay teow. The roti babi filling had hints of thick soy sauce but there was no aroma of deep fried eggs.

Roti babi from Georgetown Penang at Lot 10 Hu Tong.

Perhaps, I will have better luck hunting for the style of roti babi that Mum used to make in Penang. I know Hai Onn Hainanese Restaurant in Burmah Road has roti babi in their menu. I remember Dad used to take me there for their choon peah (spring rolls). I believe the same cook is no longer there. Reallybites posted about the roti babi she had at Hai Onn last year. The cook needs to improve on her cooking skills to make the food more presentatable. The photo that Reallybites took looked unpalatable.

If you, my dear readers, know of any place that serves a decent piece of roti babi, please do share with me here. My good neighbour Mr. Tan in Penang offered to make roti babi when I next go back but I reckon that it will be too much work for just a few slices. Mind you, he makes a mean serving of roti babi, perut ikan and other popular Peranakan dishes. In the mean time, my quest for roti babi just like how Mum used to make continues.

View From My Room

Early morning view of Taman Pekaka, Asia Hills and Bukit Jambul from my bedroom window.

No matter how I tell myself that there is nothing left in Penang for me except memories, I am invariably drawn back to this little island that was home for forty years. How could I simply walk away from a place where I was born, grew up and spent almost an entire lifetime in? Try as I did, I still pine for those familiar places that were occasionally stirred up from my deepest memories.

I am glad I still have a home to go back to in Penang. I love the view from my bedroom window in Taman Pekaka. I could just sit there and look at the unfolding dusk as the sky turned from blue to orange to the colour of darkness. The sights of kids scampering in the playground, people playing soccer and joggers running around the field brought back memories of how Mum would lean on the window and look out from that exact spot. I wonder what she was thinking those times.

All Souls Day 2009

My parents' ashes at the Mount Erskine columbarium in Penang

Photo by Wuan.

The gravelly laterite road wound through rambutan and durian trees that provided a welcome shade from the scorching midday sun. This is the path many had taken, by foot, in cars, in a hearse. Many tears had been shed as heavy feet trudged on the sometimes muddied trek to a loved one’s final resting place.

I made that journey once, a long time ago, accompanying my Ah Kong in the hearse that carried the casket he was resting in. First stop after leaving the house where the wake was held was the Church of the Holy Name of Jesus, an imposing structure in rural Balik Pulau, for the funeral Mass. His father, my great grandfather, helped build the church. Many of our relatives worship there, and had their last Mass there, too.

After Mass, the casket was taken on a slow ride down the narrow tarred road, pass a wooden bridge, up the laterite road and on to a small grassy field where the hearse stopped. A simple structure stood on the left, a zinc roof supported by pillars, perhaps to shade mourners when the heavens opened up. Tall rubber trees bordered the field on the far edge and on the right. Drab grey granite tombstones filled the rest of the open space. They looked like dominoes arranged close to one another. My Ah Kong’s freshly dug grave was frontmost.

Mum would visit her father’s grave on All Souls day every year, without fail. I would tag along, not understanding the significance then. Lighted white candles were placed before the tombstone and on the mound. She would then pour some water into a glass jar that we brought and put stalks of chrysanthemums, orchids and carnations – whatever were available from the florist that day.

Wuan and I were in Penang last week to “tiam chek ga” for Mum. “Tiam chek ga” means lighting candles on All Souls’ Day in the Hokkien dialect. Mum’s youngest sister, Cheng Ee, went with us. We had picked her up from her flat somewhere in town. Where white candles are usually used for such occasions, I have decided to use tea light candles instead. They do not leave melted max and burn longer.

We brought along joss sticks, a pair of red candles and some joss paper for Dad, too. He practiced a mix of Buddhism and Taoism when he was alive. For one reason or another, I have never thought of bringing joss sticks and red candles the numerous times I were at the columbarium to pray for Mum although their niches were next to each other.

The columbarium is not accessible. I had to make do with getting Wuan to pray on my behalf while I said my prayers in the car parked just outside. I had instructed Wuan on what to do. On one part, six tea light candles were for Mum; on the other, the joss sticks and red candles were for Dad.

We brought some chrysanthemums too but forgot to bring a jar. The caretaker found one for us one and even filled it up with water to put the flowers in. By the time Wuan and Cheng Ee came out from the columbarium, it had began to drizzle. There was one thing left to do. They walked over to the pagoda-shaped furnace by the perimeter fence to burn the joss paper.

This two-in-one prayer is for the sake of expediency. I have never gone back to Penang during “Cheng Beng” to pay my respects before Dad’s remains since moving to Kuala Lumpur. In fact, I have never visited the columbarium after Dad’s remains were interred there until after Mum passed away when I had to place her remains there as well. May they both rest in peace.