"Arriving at Kuching, though, there was something of a sense of deja vu. There was that same warm humidity we found in Ipoh, which wraps you in a comforting blanket. There was a pervasive friendliness. And, the feeling that, although the traffic moves fast enough, time itself is on a go-slow. Choon Hui Cafe, Kuching Our first Sarawak Laksa, Breakfast of the Gods' as Bourdain said, was at Choon Hui Cafe, a short walk from the Legacy Hill Hotel where we were staying."
"Instead, my father would come home to our villa on the outskirts of Ipoh and tell us tales of being winched from a helicopter into the Jungle. He'd warn us of headhunters if we didn't behave. We had, he'd told us, heads hanging on the wall watching over us to make sure we behaved properly, though years later I discovered ours were made of painted clay."
At six, the family moved to Malaysia because the father, an army doctor with the Royal Highland Fusiliers, was attached to the Malaysian Rangers and sent to Borneo while the family was stationed in Ipoh. Long flights in 1966 separated the family, so the transfer aimed to allow occasional visits. The father returned with dramatic jungle stories, warnings about headhunters, and exotic gifts such as wicker baskets and carved figures; the supposed heads watching on the wall were later revealed to be painted clay. Returning to Kuching evokes familiar humidity, pervasive friendliness, a relaxed tempo, and a memorable Sarawak Laksa made from a complex spice paste simmered with chicken stock and coconut milk.
Read at restlessfeet.com
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