A comprehensive look at the foods of these countries could fill a ten-volume set. Here, I can only present a collage of some of the dishes, people, and places I've grown to love from my visits. [...] I've also purposefully omitted certain difficult-to-make dishes, such as roti canai, one of my favorite Malaysian street foods, an Indian-style bread that requires a tricky, multistep sequence of letting dough rise and then kneading it to achieve the correct croissant-like texture. Instead, I've focused primarily on classic, easy-to-make home dishes, the heart and soul food of Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore.
[introduction, p.28]
We turned off the main road onto a smaller, bumpier one that wound its way toward Karma's home. A few minutes later we reached a one-story cement house tucked away in a grove of old eucalyptus trees. We parked in the driveway and walked to the front porch. The rain had stopped. The chirping of crickets filled the air. Karma sat on the porch in half darkness, his head buried in a small paperback book. [...] Tanya sat down in a nearby chair and indicated, with a subtle arching of her eyebrows, that I should do the same. Karma continued to read his book. [...] After a few more minutes of silence, Karma cleared his throat.
"Indonesia is a riddle that will never be solved," he whispered in English. [...] He lit a clove cigarette. Its fragrant smoke curled around his head like a halo.
[7. Street Foods" Satays, Salads, and Snacks, p.139]
~ ~ ~ ~
When Rohati and I reached the outskirts of the market, the reason that she liked to arrive early was instantly clear. Even at seven o'clock, the place was already jam-packed with customers. After making our way through a maze of crates and untethered goats, we entered the main hall and climbed the stairs to the second flour. From this vantage point, the huge market extended like a vast tapestry. It was the most radiant display of vegetables that I'd ever seen. Mounds of chiles four feet high lay next to equally high piles of water spinach. Hundreds of vendors called out their offerings in an overlapping singsong that rose above the hall in what sound like a single chant. [...] [T]he display looked like a still life painted by a Dutch master. Baskets of spices spilled over onto bunches of kaffir lime leaves and fresh turmeric rhizomes just pulled from the ground.
[9. Vegetables, p.202]
~ ~ ~ ~
She proceeded to dip her hands into canisters and show me seemingly random amounts of spices: two handfuls of cumin seeds, three times as many coriander seeds, a satchel's worth of fresh turmeric, and so on. Like all the region's great cooks, Renny measured by agak-agak (instinct), not set amounts.
[11. Poultry, p.268]
