Terima Kasih Malaysia. . . we will miss you.
About Me
- Elizabeth
- Long blond curls, Blue-green eyes, 5' 7", Curvy A creature known to be laughing about as much as she talks . . if not more than that. Artist- mediums of expression: flavor, foods, words, pencil, paint- or things that act like paint. Favorite Food: Whole milk ...not a food, I know.
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Believe it or not, but that blue color to the left is all natural, no blue number five here. This delicious coconut rice bar tastes like oatmeal with a caramel coconut layer. Sweetened by palmsugar it has the most refreshing sweetness without losing the salty contrast. This treat happens to come in many colors, pink, yellow, and green, but this blue is my favorite.
So where does it come from already
Well, in an old garage that's down a little alley in Melaka, there are a couple old woman who take the beautiful blue out of the flowers that grow in the street. It's not just how they take the color that makes this place amazing. Their garage is stocked with durian caramels, little malaysian cookies and enough of these bars that even our bus of hungry cooks would get sick on them.
Maybe next time you're thinking about eating that blue raspberry candy that's colored with artificial who-knows-what, you can think of the real malaysian blue and boycott these sorry impressionists.
Holy cow! Was that a snake. . . or just a branch?! I'm not sure and I'm not going to take my time to figure it out. I've had about enough of the lizards around here. I'm not about to make friends with any other reptiles.
Gosh theses trees are tall. I never realized how huge a palm tree could get. They're practically prehistoric: rough scaly trunks with a diameter of closet and let's not forget the long, feathery, draping branches as that could seriously wound someone if it fell on them. We are in the thick of it now my friends!
So why am I surrounded by rows and rows of palm trees the size of a dinosaur? We are traveling through Melaka, Malaysia and our tour guide doubles as a palm oil farmer.
Oil palm happens to be the main agricultural crop around here. This tiny country grows some 600 million trees, which takes up over half of their agricultural land. (20% of Malaysian land is farmed) Palm isn’t just farmed here. No, 60% of the country is covered in forest, including some of the worlds oldest virgin forests.
The unique thing about processing palm is that it makes two oils from one plant: palm kernel oil-made from the fruit’s core and palm oil made from the fruit’s flesh. Palm is the only fruit to produce two chemically different oils.
Many products we buy at the grocers have palm oil on the ingredient list. It’s not just an affordable fat, but unrefined palm fruit oil is full of vitamins. It is a great shortening for baking as it is naturally solid at room temp, needing no hydrogenation. This means it has no trans fatty acids, and because it’s not an animal product, it is free of cholesterol.
I have to be truthful, being surrounded by all this agriculture made my eyes start to moisten. It just felt so homey here. . . and our tour guide was such a sweet man it was hard not to miss the sweetness of the cornfields and my father back home. I guess you can take the farmgirl out of the farm an throw her into the jungle, but you can’t take the farm out of the girl no matter where she goes.
I never imagined that in the 100F blistering hot summer tropics I'd want to put on a 15-20 pound coat that covered my body from crown to ankle, an that after I had been instructed to wear a sweater and pants. But that is exactly what I did today.
Part of our touring Malaysia, a muslim country, included visiting a mosque. I was especially excited to visit this place since, in the last month, I had visited a Buddhist temple complex, a Hindu temple, Saint Peter's Basilica, and the Sistine Chapel. Learning about all these different places of worship and the different religions that meet inside them has been very eve-opening. The most shocking thing to me has been how similar ideas can be between two groups and yet how different they can honor those ideas and the vice versa.
Today's experience was quite different from all the others. It wasn't just a matter of washing our feet before entering, or making sure our shoulders and thighs were covered. No, even after we dressed to cover our bodies from wrist to toe (yes toe, we were instructed that would not be permitted to enter with open-toed shoes), the women in our group were still made to wear thick blue cloaks to cover our whole bodies. It's one thing to see how the muslim women of this country dress, but it's another to put on that same heavy cloak even if it was for just 15 minutes.
While we visited today, there was a funeral taking place and a bride waiting in the wings for their ceremony to end and hers to begin. It was strangely ironic, a feeling I seemed to pick up everywhere today. Even the the blue sky seemed to be the opposite of the bright pink dome of this structure.
To me, the idea of modesty is rather romantic. Dressing in a way that keeps your body a kind of secret seems to make our bodies seem more sacred. But seeing such a stark difference in the rules for men and women made me feel so frustrated. If an arm is "immodest" to show for a woman then why is it not immodest for a man?
I guess in the end this place that seemed like it was focused on reverence and worship felt like was focused on rules and distinction. I feel honored to have seen such a beautiful structure with unique architecture and traditions. But more importantly I feel so grateful for the freedom I had in taking off that heavy coat once I stepped outside the door.
Khairul: "Ahhhhhhhhhh-hahahahahahaha!"
Me: "Oh my gosh! I don't know if I can do this"
Khairul: "AHH
HHHHHHH-HAHAHAHAHAHA. . . (gasps for air) . . . HEHEHEHEHEHE..."
Daniela: "Common, HAHAHAHAHA, AHHHHH-hahahahahahahahahah"
Me: " Ok, Here it goes. Oh! Oh hohohoho heheheh Oh my g
oooo-hahahahahahah. . . .HEHEHEHE-HAHAHAHAH"
So, this is pretty much the conversation we all had this morning over a pool filled with flesh eating fish. Yeah, that sounds weird, but let me tell you it feels a lot weirder.
This is fish eating your dead skin thing is apparently a special type of pedicure 'round these parts. I guess for under 1 US dollar, we could spend 10 minutes with our tootsies soaking it this tub of fish, who would suck off the dead flesh from whatever skin was submerged. Now because I am a little crazy and since this "procedure" costs an arm and a leg in the states, I begged my friends to stop and do this.
We agreed and before I knew it we were all barefoot and perched atop stools and staring down at the little fish that were actually staring through the water at us. Having fish
stare at you, know they are about to get fed by eating you was just a little unnerving to me.First in the water was Khairul, who proceeded in wrapping his arms around his head, tucking his chin to his knees and laughing uncontrollably in a very hi-pitchedhehehe" that seemed to come from
his "gut. Daniela and I take the plunge and find ourselves squirming in our seats, trying our darndest to keep our feet in the water.By this point we are all laughing to the point of tears from the tickling feeling caused as each tiny fish sucks off little layers of skin. (It's creepy, but the laughing makes it worth it.) The three of us we so loud we actually brought a crowd of people around the pool.
I don't know if it really was the pedicure that made me feel so refreshed afterward or if it was all that laughing. Whatever it was, I am certain that was best 90 cents I have ever spent.
Hehehe I can't not laugh just thinking about it. . . hehehehehehe.
Hey who want's to visit the fruit bar?
Ok so maybe this isn't a real establishment, but today was our last day at Taylor's College and by the end of this hectic day of food mayhem we all ended up visiting this area of our graduation reception.
However, this wasn't just a place of refreshing juices and ice cold water. No, it was a buffet of exotic fruits and fruit sculptures. We gawked at all these different foods and instead of indulging on the dishes we had worked so hard to prepare for the buffet indoors, we ate our hearts out here.
Among my favorites, dragonfruit, lychee, longan, and mangosteen, was that rascal that I had eaten two times already this week, durian.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Wil I never escape the clutches of this fruit?
I think I said no to the students and instructors who said, "oh common it'll be better this time." Ha so much for that. This poor fruit will never be ok to me. Sadly, I succumbed to the pressure and took the half a fruit that was handed to me. BLECK!! I can't believe it, but I ate it again.... Lordy sakes! On second thought, I am ok with leaving. .
Below are the fruit sculptures and fruit arrangement at the bar as well as a photo of me surrounded by the group of Taylor's students that helped in my area of the kitchen this morning. We were all very tired and very glad to have this well deserved break.
With the wild imagination I have, I still never thought that one day I'd get to travel deep into the tropics, eat food from a fire made from coconut husks, use dyes and wax to paint fabric, and dive in a pit of mud to catch catfish. Yeah, I'd have to say that combination really never crossed my mind when I thought about Malaysia.
Today was positively the most fun I've had on this study abroad, and it all started with my best friend, the coconut <3>
Tangent:
When I was about 12 or 13, I was eating in a Vietnamese restaurant in Saint Paul, Minnesota with my grandmother, cousin, and great aunt. I really don't remember the food or how we got there, but what I d remember was this drink. In a tall, unlikely, brown plastic soda cup, arrived what was called coconut water. Little did I know that for the next nine years I would search to find a replica of such a drink. It was sweet, mild, full of coconut flavor and ever so slightly opaque. But the best part was what rested at the bottom: soft fleshy pieces of white fruit. It felt and looked like white cantaloupe, but tasted like coconut. What on earth was this and how could I get a lifetime supply of it, I wondered.
Well today I found out that this one-lunch-stand was none other than young coconut. Heavens to Betsy! What a reunion! Truthfully, I think I freaked some of the other students out by my extreme enthusiasm, as they proceeded to tell fill my cup with more and more of the stuff and insisted that I finish what was in the pitcher. Heh heh. . . not to all this mellon like coconut flesh is heavenly and perhaps dangerous for those who separate the addict from their drug.
Ok, ok enough already with the coconut. Where was I? . . . .Oh yeah! So we arrived at this little bungalow-like home and immediately started to learn about traditional/historical Malaysian home life and culture.
First on that list of learning: Processing Rice
Before all that high-tech machinery cam around, people would harvest and separate rice grains from the husk by hand. This process consists of pounding the rice with a wooden plunger in a bowl-shaped hollow in more wood. Two people take turns thudding the rice against the walls of the bowl. This idea seems easy, but as we found out, it takes lots of practice to use the just the right pressure, or one's rice will be crushed, broken, and only be good for porridge. After pounding, the rice is places on a woven platter and tossed in the air. The light breeze catches the husks and blows it away leaving only the grains on the plate.
From here we moved onto more refreshments. I guess all that pounding, tossing, and catching was excuse enough to take a break.
Second on the list: Meringue Cakes
These little meringue pancakes are really delicious right out of the pan and into the mouth. With just three ingredients: egg, sugar, and flour, you might think that these confections would be a bit low on the flavor scale. . . that couldn't be farther from the truth. To my amazement, one bite had as much flavor as bacon, angel food cake, and custard combined.
Apparently, in a country where bacon is religiously forbidden, someone found a way to make that smokey fatty flavor in food by cooking it in cast iron over a coconut husk fire. THe way that smoke changed the flavor was outstanding, and I am forever changed in my ideas about cooking methods. Forget hickory smoked, bring me the coconut husks and a match!
To see how to make the batter and cook these yummy things check out the video on the Runaway Cook Youtube channel. Click here for the link.
Next: Batiking Fabric
Batiking is a form of decorating fabrics for framing or wearing that uses wax and dye. The artist uses a special tool the holds hot wax and moves very quickly across white fabric to draw a design. After the design is completed, dyes are applied using a paintbrush. Within the lines of wax colors are blended together, but the band of wax keeps that area free of color. Once finished and set, the fabric is washed in hot water to remove the wax. In our case, we all left the wax in our small wall hangings.
I really loved this! I suggest trying this at home for a fun craft. The most difficult part is drawing with the wax because it moves so quickly.
Fourth on the list: Eat
By now, everyone was famished and eating lunch was vital. We all scrubbed the begeebers out of our hands to get the dye off, but most of us still had stains. We sat down on woven mats and, using no flatware-the malaysian way, indulged on mildly flavored but absolutely delicious food. In fact I enjoyed this meal more than many of the meals we had eaten in restaurants. THe cabbage and rice, chili paste, rice noodles, and fresh juicy mango was amazing.
After lunch is were it gets even better. Fifth on the list: Mud and Fish
There I was, crouching in the mirk, nearly buoyant hanging above the mire. I was focused, not even the burn of the stinging sunlight would crack my concentration. The mud cooked and creased on my shoulders as I waited. To the left, a tell tale swirl birthed from a swishing fin in the still gray pool. My muscles tensed with anticipation as I crept closer to the edge. Bubbles began to surface and soon up from the depths rose the glossy backside of the prey (ha! So dramatic- at it’s largest “trench” this puddle is a mere 5 feet deep).
He lay near the bank as my hands slowly surrounded him on all sides. With a single smooth motion, I ambushed him, grasping him tightly and pressing him down to the gooey bottom. My hands then shot to the surface hanging onto what I hoped was still a fish and not a fist full of mud. Ahhh, yes I has caught the rascal! There writhing in my hands was a 6” catfish coated in a gray clay paint.
No lie, we hopped into a pit of mud and spent a couple hours trying to catch 6 inch catfish with our bare hands.
We did our best to catch some catfish which became supper for our hosts. Here’s where the fish story of my life comes in. Out of the six fish in our bucket, yours truly was responsible for the catching of two! I’m guessing those Iowa farm roots had something to do with that.
Yeah, today was the most fun I've had here in Asia. . . .Sigh I don't know that I'll be able to leave this wonderful place.
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