Nominated food packed with stories of Penang

FEW places can outshine Penang when it comes to food.

Every steaming plate, every scoop of curry, every splash of sambal holds the history of generations who turned this state into a shared kitchen.

As a Penangite, my cravings always circle back to nasi kandar.

It began with the Indian-Muslim hawkers who carried rice and curry on wooden poles called “kandar” across their shoulders.

The ‘roti benggali’ sold by this travelling Roti Man carries a legacy started by south Indian bakers in Penang long ago. This iconic bread is now getting the recognition it deserves, having been named to the list of 10 Penang street food offerings nominated for heritage status. — Filepic

They roamed the streets, balancing baskets filled with pots of rice and assorted curries, mainly selling to dock workers at Pengkalan Weld who needed a hearty meal to fuel their labour.

Nasi kandar has evolved from street food into a national phenomenon, embraced by Malaysians of all backgrounds.

I’ve always loved the kuah campur chaos: a spoonful of curry from every tray to flood my plate of white rice, a piece of ayam ros and a crispy fried sotong.

Then a few streets away, I can never resist a plate of pasembor, dubbed “Indian rojak” by some.

For true-blue Penangites, it’s a jumble of grated cucumber, crispy fritters, prawn crackers and boiled egg drowned in a sweet, nutty sauce that reminds me of beach evenings.

Then there’s char kuey teow. You might find this in almost every food court in the country, but there is just something about how Penang hawkers do it that gives it such fantastic wok hei (literally, breath of the wok).

And for those who have not tried the Malay iteration of Penang char kuey teow, please do.

You will find it saucier and spicier with a touch of gravy that has a marvellous shrimp flavour.

So, when state tourism and creative economy committee chairman Wong Hon Wai announced that 10 of Penang’s street food offerings were nominated to be gazetted by the National Heritage Department, I can only say: well, it’s about time.

They are nasi kandar, pasembor, char koay kak, Hokkien mee, mee jawa, oh chien, mee udang (Malay prawn mee), mee sotong, kerabu bihun and roti benggali.

Each of these foods tell a story of migration and adaptation.

Immigrants who came to Penang more than 200 years ago made it their home and brought along their flavours.

The Chinese brought broths, the Indians their love of herbs and spices, the Siamese their love for chilli and shiploads of other people came with their own strange tastes, with the local Malays contributing their sweet-spicy gravies. Then it got all mixed up.

When I eat each of the nominated dishes, I “taste” the conversations between cultures and generations.

Funny thing about the roti benggali though; it did not come from Bengal. These thick, crusty, old-fashioned loaves were baked by Indian-Muslims since the early 1900s.

Today, the production is, of course, modern and no longer done the traditional way.

The Indian word “panggali” was the original term, literally meaning “partners” because that was how the south Indian pioneering bakers in Penang cooperated.

Locals simply called it “benggali” and by the mid-1900s, the south Indians themselves used the misnomer in their advertising.

History aside, I argue that there is no white bread more delicious than roti benggali.

Dipped in curry, kaya or whatever, its puffy mass is what you need to turn slow mornings into bright days.

From childhood to adulthood, roti benggali has always been top on my list.

All these dishes together form the story of Penang: an edible, delicious map of who we are and where we come from.

When you eat in Penang, you taste the blend of culture, geography and history.