So Gordon Ramsay, that foul mouth act on television who judiciously spew words of horror to inspire or incite fear in his chefs seeking culinary enlightenment on his show, will soon be attempting to plate the great Malaysian flavours on his new series. I know for a fact that Gordon is way sweeter in person and lives off air with that trademark British manners and wit and has integrity for handling fine ingredients. What I don’t know is how will he rationalize the almost insanely wonderful use of seasoning and ingredients in South East Asia that are salted, fermented, stinky and foul smelling for his polite English senses.

I look forward to see him handle fue yue (fermented tofu), salted mustard leaves, (teepo) salted flat fish bones, chincalok (salt and vinegared fermented baby shrimps) and watch him hold back his “beeping hell” exclamation when his sniffs Penang belachan and attempts dessert with D24 durians. Meanwhile, carry on eating in Malaysia (where it’s often cheaper to eat out than cook in) like at these two makan heavens in Ipoh.

Buried in that thick brown curry sauce , is actually some
fine curry noodles and chicken pieces.

Avoid going to this place at that ridiculous half hour window when school dismisses around 12.45pm to 1.15pm. You won’t find this streetside coffeeshop hidden behind the triple park rows of fine marques awaiting to pick up little precious after school. Miraculously, the shop loudly appears when that almost daily phenomenon is over. The Chuen family has been toiling in that same spot for over half a century. These Hainanese but Cantonese speaking (everyone speaks or understand some Cantonese in Ipoh, even the Indian gas pump attendant will tell you to “pay lui seen” or pay first before filling up) folks are legends there. Their style which is distinctly more robust than the Teochew versions in Singapore has a richer curry base paste which is calmed by some five spice blends. The popular 4RM (about $1.80) version is the “dry” platter. It comes with yellow noodles with chicken, bean sprouts, potatoes and doused with a thick cream like curry that sits over and browns everything out. To restore colour, they lay some fresh mint leaves over it. The curry has a softly sweet and savoury fragrance which makes it so difficult to stop when you eat. I like it with some beehoon mixed in. Their “soup” version comes in a bowl with that same thick curry sitting over a watered down curry soup. The founder’s son, a genial and shy Ah Kiong now helms the stall and admits that “ this is all he is good at and will cook till time runs out on him”. We need more newer generation mercenaries of makan like him.

The kungfu teahouse exterior of Foh San never fails to
draw a little queue each day.

This other makan icon in Ipoh has been at it for yonks and began as a humble coffeshop way back when. Today, they have expanded with branches in other parts of Malaysia. Each morning finds a little queue patiently awaiting their seats in front of this restored double storied shop house lot in town which looks more like a fancy “cha kuan” or Chinese tea houses with open balconies overlooking the street below and red banners disguised as menus and poster hanging on the wall. It comes complete with servers buzzing around with trays and trolleys of some of the better dim sum I’ve had in eateries of this class. I always, as a litmus test of such dim sum joints, go for the har kow(crystal prawn dumpling) and siew mai (meat dumpling). It says a lot about the quality of the fillings and the nifty handicraft in the kitchen, as the skill in making and folding the har kow can reveal a lot. The skin came softly chewy and lighty resilient, like a quick surrender, and the prawn fillings was crunchy, moist and fresh. The siew mai, and I suggest you go for the siew mai wong, or the upsized fancy version with prawns in the fillings and shreds of dried scallops atop, is packed wrapped tight and has a moist and pleasing bite feel. Their little steaming pots of flavoured rice is very comforting- soft, with chicken, mushrooms, Chinese meat and liver sausages and spooned over with a so-Cantonese soy, oyster sauce and sesame oil concoction. One dessert there I’ve never seen anyone attempt in Singapore in the “pandan malai ko”, pandan green steamed glutinous rice balls filled with sweet lotus bean paste and half wrapped in pandan leaf. It tastes as good as it sounds and it does not stick to the gums.

I will definitely be back there because, among other factors, the prices are ridiculously good value for money, something many Singaporeans can relate to.