SAMBAL W ITHO UT ANCHOVIES

The table fan blows a cool draft across the kitchen, dispersing
the suffocating heat. Hanif feels it caressing his skin, but that
does little to improve his [Link] squeaking and rattling of
the old fan add to his annoyance.
Why are you being so stubborn, ayah? Hanif says.
I don't like the idea.
Ive already explained it many times. Every cent saved is
good for the business.
The old man sighs and shakes his head. He ifts his face
and frowns at Hanif, but there is no defiance in his eyes. N o
argument comes from his lips either. His father simply rises
from his chair and walks out of the kitchen. A group of old
men gathered around a long table outside greet him warmly.
He eases into their conversation on politics, rising petrol prices
and television wrestling shows. A smile returns to the old man's
face. But Hanif feels anger rise inside him. His father prefers to
waste his time on idle chat,instead of spending it on im portant
discussion. Every time he proposes a new idea to his father, he
runs into a brick wall.
Nasi Lemak Pak Samad is one ofa row ofroadside food stalls
opposite the police station in Kampung Baru. It is a wooden
shack with a few long tables and stools, with a small kitchen at
 Chua Kok Yee Without Ancho vies

the back. The stall has not been repainted,nor has the furniture them in a plastic container. When that was done, his mother
been replaced since it was set up twenty-five years ago. And asked him to wash the cooking pots and pans, or to bring
the metal roof is rusting. Strangely though,these things lend a her this or that. After about an hour inside the kitchen, the
rustic and surreal charm to the place. cooking was done.
Hanif was seven years old when his parents decided to Help me arrange the banana leaves, please, his mother
start the business, and he still remembers that first day. That said. They sat on wooden stools next to one [Link] she
morning, right after the Isyak prayers, Pak Samad drove the cut the long banana leaves into small square pieces, he lay them
whole family to the stall from their home in Gombak,in their on the empty plates. It was a tedious and boring job.
newly purchased second-hand Nissan van. Being the youngest, Why do we have to do this, mak?
Hanif had the privilege of riding in front with his parents, The leaf will give out a nice fragrance when we serve the
while his two older brothers, Harun and Hafiz, were consigned hot rice on it.
to the back to sit with the assortment of pots, kitchen utensils After the leaf-cutting was finally done, he helped his mother
and containers. carry the containers from the kitchen to the long table placed
He remembers the thumping inside his chest when the van outside. The choice of sambal, fried chicken, curried cuttlefish
stopped in front of their stall, how the five of them hurriedly and hard-boiled eggs did not look like a sumptuous spread, but
disembarked from the van,and stood in fiont of the shop in the aroma was wicked. Hanif glanced at his plastic wristwatch;
disbelieving awe. Hanif thought it was so cool that his father it was already seven o'clock.
now owned a nasi lemak stall. He was now an anak tauke;the Outside, the street began to come alive. Hanif saw men and
son of a businessman, a term that he previously thought was women in casual or business attire walking past their stall. He
reserved for the children of rich Datuks. saw his father wiping the tables nervously for the umpteenth
Let's get to work, Pak Samad said. time, his eyes trained on every passing pedestrian. It was as
Hanif was assigned to assist his mother, while his brothers if he was trying to throw an invisible net over them and pull
helped his athe r set up the tables and chairs. He protested, them into his stall with sheer force of will.
preferring to be outside doing'men's work',rathe r than inside Don't worry ayah. They'll come soon," Hanif said.
the small, stuffy kitchen helping with the [Link], as soon The words had barely escaped his mouth when a man
as his mother heated up the wok, Hanif was glad that he was stepped into the stall. The middle-aged Malay man,wearing a
th er e. His mother turned the small kitchen into a paradise o f blue long-sleeved shirt with a yellow tie, carrying a briefcase,
aromatic delights. The fragrance of rice boiling in coconut headed straight towards the [Link] father walked briskly over
milk made his mouth salivate, while the fiery aroma of sambal and stood next to him . For the longest five seconds in the life
induced growls and rumbles in his stomach. of Pak Samad's family, the man's eyes examined the containers
Hanif, don't just stand there. Please help me slice the of food. Then he turned towards Pak Samad, nodded and
cucumbers, his mother said, when she saw him standing ordered a plate of nasi lemak with fried chicken. They had
there watching her stir the large wok. His job was easy; he their first customer! Hanif remembers how his father's face
only had to cut the cucumbers into thin slices,and then pu t had lit up.

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 Ch ua Kok Yee Without Anchovies

That is a memory Hanif would always treasure. Hanif and his father have another disagreement. That evening,
But things changed after twenty-two years. From a new, Hanif suggests a change to their sambal recipe. He knows his
wide-eyed anak taukeh, Hanif grew into a seasoned business father pours away the remainder of the sambal at the end of
man running restaurants of his own. Now Hanif feels his every day. They are unable to keep the sambal overnight because
father lacks sufficient business acumen, and has let too many it is cooked with anchovies. If they were to refrigerate it, the
opportunities slip away. chilli paste and onions would be alright, but the anchovies
The stall is crowded most mornings. While most of its would become soggy.
customers are workers from the nearby offices, his father's nasi Sambal without anchovies? Pak Samad raises his
lemak has a strong enough reputation to attract many customers eyebrows.
from all over the city. In fact, some years ago the famous nasi Yes,we can just cook the paste,and then fry the anchovies
lemak was featured in a gastronomy programme on television. separately. We'll simply add them both together when we serve
Yet,his father did not bother to leverage on any of these to the rice.
grow the business. The stall remains as it was years ago; a small The sambal will not taste the same if you cook it without
roadside business. the anchovies.
At times, Hanif wishes that he could be more detached True, but I don't think many will notice the difference.
about the stall,and not give a damn, as his brothers advise. His This way, both the sambal and anchovies can be refrigerated,
older brothers laugh when he tells them about his difficulties and we can reduce the wastage.
dealing with ayah. Our customers love our sambal because we make it fresh
Don't worry too much about it,let ayah do as he pleases." every morning. Besides, sambal cooked without anchovies will
they tell him. That is easy for them to say, because they think not be right. What's the point of serving something if its not
of the stall as nothing more than a relic from a nostalgic past. good?
After his brothers left home, they never came back. Harun Come on, ayah! All the other stalls do it.
is a school teacher in Johor Bahru, and Hafiz works in an For afew moments,Pak Samad appears to give the suggestion
accounting firm. But Hanif is different. After leaving school, a thought. Then he looks at Hanif and smiles, shakes his head
he worked for twelve years in several hotels, before saving u p and walks out o f the kitch en .Ha nif rests his clasped hands on
enough money to start his own restaurant business in a popular top o f his head in annoyance. It is not the rejectio n,b ut the
shopping mall in Petaling [Link] inherited hispassion for the way his father dismisses his idea that makes him angry. He finds
food business from his parents, and no matter where he went that smile on his father's face cynical, sarcastic and patronising.
or how far he traveled, he would never leave that nasi lemak Does his father stil think of him as a clueless kid , instead of the
stall behind. In many ways, he was the anointed successor of successful restaurateur he really is? O r, does his father believe
the family business. that only his own opinions coun t?
Yeah,walk away and ignore the problem! Maybe you
don't care about the stall anymore, but I still do!" Hanif shouts
after h im . If mak were still around, she would be ashamed o f
the stall!

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