KUALA LUMPUR: Among the most sought- after herbs in preparing excellent and zingy delicacies like rendang or masak lodeh during this festive season are kaffir lime leaves (daun limau purut), turmeric leaves (daun kunyit), screwpine (daun pandan) and lemongrass (serai) leaves, apart from root-based herbal plants like galangal (lengkuas) and halia (ginger).
Seed-derived spices like cardamon (biji pelaga), pepper (lada hitam), coriander (ketumbar), fennel seeds (jintan manis), cumin (jintan putih) fenugreek (halba), clove (bunga cengkih), star anise (bunga lawang) or bark-based cinnamon or cassia (kulit kayu manis) are equally popular and sought for during this period.
I was at a wet market the other day when a young mother was looking for these spices to buy. Her daughter prodded her and asked her what those spices were.
“Oh, I don’t quite know their names, sayang. They are just rempah-ratus (spices) that make the food we cook taste better,” the mother explained.
“Why don’t you just do like Bapak? He puts MSG (monosodium glutamate) in everything he cooks. His nasi goreng tastes better than yours,” the child exclaimed.
“Your Bapak is a fake cook, who has been feeding you and your siblings with taste enhancers. He keeps on buying MSG and he always sorok (hides) the plastic package from me,” the mother whispered to her child, unaware that I was eavesdropping on their conversation.
Anyway, more modern day housewives and career women could not care less about learning of these herbs and spices, what more using them to enhance the taste of their cuisine, besides giving that delectable aftertaste to the food.
To make chicken soup, for instance, they just buy ready-made sup bunjut or Rempah Empat Beradik (a bouquet garni that contains star anise, cardamom, clove and cinnamon) instead of buying them individually. There is nothing wrong about that, but I wish they knew their spices and herbs better.
To some people, sup bunjut can be a bit menacing if the husbands are totally naive and know next to nothing about herbs and spices. As you notice, sup bunjut is wrapped in white gauze with strings tied at the end of the bouquet. It appears much like a shaman’s concocted talisman.
Hence, suspecting husbands whose intent is to marry another wife, one would jump to the conclusion when he finds a tangkal guna-guna and accuse his spouse of using black magic on him. You see, there have been cases of such.
Back to the beautiful herbs and spices, I especially love using coriander seeds, the plants and roots for my meat curries because of their fragrance and undertones. Not only that, coriander stalks and roots really dominate the taste and texture of meat curries. They also enrich the taste when I add them to briyani rice.
I love watching Instagram videos of famous fashion designer Rizalman, who is an excellent cook. He knows his herbs and spices well as his picture-perfect food appears like home-cooked cuisines prepared by our mothers or grandparents who cooked with their heart and soul.
Nyonya cooking has a lot in common in employing certain herbs and spices. They have the propensity of creating a common paste when the Nyonyas prepared cuisines like rendang, masak lodeh or curry mee gravy.
Traditional Nyonyas would grind galangal, ginger and turmeric roots to mix with shallots, garlic and lemongrass to make ready-to-cook paste. This is a magical paste that can be used in numerous Malay and Nyonya infused cuisines.
Nowadays, we don’t grind these herbs and spices anymore as they are readily available in wet markets. A jar of the mixture is priced between RM10 and RM15 depending on what sort of herbs and spices go into the mixture.
Nevertheless, yours truly still believes in the old way of preparing the common paste of six siblings’ herbs (galangal, ginger, turmeric roots, shallots, garlic and lemongrass) for this coming Hari Raya. With exception, I don’t use or have a set of batu giling (metate) to grind but place them in the blender — it is quicker that way.
Sometime ago, a friend related a story about a Malay makcik (aunty) attending a cooking class organised by a Chinese Nyonya Peranakan in Melaka.
When it came to adding kaffir lime leaves into a Nyonya dish, the instructor who mispronounced the words, told the class attendees this: “Jangan lupa ye, taruh dua tiga daun kapir dalam masakan supaya naik bau.”
Confused with the instructor’s instruction, she retorted: “Buat apa nak taruh kapir dalam masakan ni? Hai Nyonya, apa lu melalut ni.”
The instructor, equally confused, shot back: “Gua chef atau lu yang chef?”
“Kita orang Islam laa. Mana boleh taruh kapir dalam masakan ni!” the makcik shouted.
The Nyonya instructor then picked a stalk of kaffir lime leaves and showed her the plants. “Inilah daun kapir.”
“Aduhai, itu daun limau purut laa. Buat apa nak kapir-kapir ni?” she said in her defence. Several women who understood what kaffir lime leaves were, explained to the makcik.
“Gua lupa nama Melayu daun kapir ni. Gua pun selalu guna nama daun kapir,” she explained herself, much to the amusement of the attendees. The bewildered makcik was obviously still blur with all the jest and laughter.
C’est la vie.
The writer is a former NST journalist, now a film scriptwriter whose penchant is finding new food haunts in the country