The ideal raw ingredients, according to my hometown folks, are a mixture of homegrown herbs, homemade condiments and exotic spices that we can’t grow ourselves.
At the Lumut seaside town, it’s pretty common for a neighbour to pay a visit late in the afternoon to ask for homegrown herbs for cooking dinner.
For example, they would ask for a few kaffir leaves, lemongrass cuttings or a handful of chillies.
If a person has too many coconuts or mangoes for home consumption, the fruits will be distributed to his neighbours.
It’s a good excuse to exchange news with the community, like a social media exercise without the internet.
In a typical seaside household, cooking is a photogenic affair.
Cooking should be a simple effort but not without love. The dish must be inspired, something that you mull over in your head for days, if not weeks.
If you can’t be bothered, then just fry a few mackerels in turmeric and make peace with yourself.
My late aunt told us that the raw ingredients should be in odd numbers. For example, three cloves of garlic, five small chillies, one slice of lime and so on. I’m not sure what her logic was.
Cooking, I was taught, should be a happy mystery and, sometimes, unquantifiable. Just like love.
Main image: Home-grown “bunga kantan” or ginger flowers to add flavour and fragrant to a laksa broth. Photo © Zarina Holmes.
After The Rain 