Woke up on Sunday, groggy and a bit blurr after the late late night following the Election and posting in MyKlang way into the early hours of the morning. But when my mind cleared, a smile crept into my face. What a night! What a Victory! All the more sweeter because it was least expected. I could sing and I did, at least my heart did. This called for a celebration. Saw Pooh in the forum desperately looking for people to celebrate with him but everyone must still be asleep.
The day passed by quickly when I received a call from Kurau. Jom! Lets go each. Okey-dokey and we packed up and went to our ELECTION CELEBRATION DINNER, the only one I ever had. Yes, KORRECT, KORRECT, KORRECT, no typing error. It is spelled with a L and not a R though that too will be a good reason too. We arrived at the famous grilled lamp and crab beehoon restaurant -
Hing Ket Grill House in Kampung Jawa. After a phone call conference, we decided not to eat there. Not only are we fickle but we decided to give its less well known neighbor a try. Why mar? Support the underdog lar. After all, it is the underdog that won last night.
We went into the Tun Huang Grill House instead.
Now whether it should be Tun Huang or Tun Ong, we had no idea. Looked like the owner got a case of double identity and thought the best form of advertisement is to confuse patron. But it obviously is a wrong strategy. For example, you tell people to vote Rocket and printed it Umbrella. Not so smart. But our friend is all excited and raring to go. His stomach is leading the way. He is hungry and Huang or Ong, they better have food or they will be in trouble.
This is the specialty of the house - tender, succulent, juicy, flavorful, rich, delicious, meaty mutton that melts in your mouth and made you goes mmmmmmmmmmm……………. My mouth still waters when I recalled that wonderful aroma and exquisite taste. Pooh - Eat Your Heart OUt!!!!!
Pooh, looks at those shiny brown meat (like a brown girl in the rain) calling your name. And the aroma that wafted from the steaming hot plate filled our nostrils and trilled us down to our loin. We held our knife in suspense, poised but waited to savor the moment for the kill. Pooh baby, you don’t know what you miss.
Then there is the sauce. Oh, ahh…. don’t talk to me about the sauce. That minty flavor that played on my tongue, teasing me with its delicateness, mingling with my saliva. It was like… It was like…. French kissing…. Woo…. Then for a change, we dipped into that spicy sauce of onion and chilli padi giving a zest for more than life with that tangy, mysterious, voluptuous flavor of an unknown recipe. It was like…. It was like…. forbidden love. This was…… SEX. Of the Best KInd. You cannot imagine what you miss. That food can be like making…… Luv.
And when you’ve it in front of you. Your eyes widened as you looked at this delectable meat spread out in front, erotically enticing. Your hands trembled at the anticipation, your heart pounding, your small hairs standing on end as you awaited that moment when you will slice it pieces by pieces and slowly lifting it into your mouth. Mmmmmmmmm……… If this is not heaven, I don’t know what is. You closed your eyes and drank in the sensation. And…. And…… You Climax!
My friend, this is what you miss. You deserve it for not making it there with us and we are not taking you with us even if you beg this time. We want it all for ourselves.
Next, came the beehoon, to temper down the mutton’s fire. It is enticing in its own right, like that of a fair delicate maiden coyly flashing her eyes at you. BLINK! BLINK! BLINK! You treated it with the gentleness as it deserved and it rewarded you with the same. This is not one dish you will jumped in wildly. Take you time and alternated between the fiery mutton and soft suppleness of a tousled Miss Bee Hoon.
To spice thing up after a slow-down in tempo, we returned to the upbeat drums of tropical vegetables, potato leaves soaked and stirred with the explosive myriad taste of wonderful smelly BELACAN. This whacked our tongue till they vibrated and tingled with the fantastic sensation. We wanted to jump on the table and do the tango, no. The samba, no. No, no. YES! The wild African jungle dance to the jungle beats. Now, I know why people want to be vegetarian.
Another change of pace saw us going for something different yet again. Sotong fried with crispy batter. Kurau roughly tore off the clothings of one to expose its delicate white flesh that shone out against its crispy skin. I could see his mouth watered, impatient for me to finish my photography so he could sink his teeth into the soft white skin. He was like a wild animal on a leash. Before I even finish, he shove me aside and crunched one against his teeth. I heard that creasssh sound and then a deep sigh escaped from his throat as he moaned and chewed and moaned and chewed. Then he reached for another… and another… and another…
Then came the second highlight of the evening. It was all arms and legs or all legs and legs with several pairs of large pincers thrown in. You wouldn’t want your thingy caught between them. They were all hot and wet covered with juicy, slimy, sweet and spicy sauce that ran down your throat and touched your heart for it reminded you of your mother, your ex-girlfriend, the one you jilted and the one who jilted you while your wife looked disapprovingly at the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. But she had it wrong - you had bitten a chilli padi.
Then came the steam buns for us to lap up the sauce with. Steam buns fried - haha. Only the Chinese can think of that. Its golden brown crispy skin encasing a white soft woolly texture. And the two world met, contrasted giving diversity to the mouth feel enhanced by the sweet yet spicy sauce and you almost forgot the crab. So good they are in themselves.
We used our hands. We used our teeth. We used our tongue, We used our lips. For crabs are to be enjoyed dirty. It is not a ladies’ dish. But a lady willing to get dirty enjoyed it even more . Have you seen the difference between the way a man and a lady eat crabs? They squeezed every bit of flesh out of every corners. They are more patient, meticulous and systematic. Whereas man just got in and whacked, whacked, whacked creating a big big mesh. Yet, the ladies crunched out bits and discards are even piled out in a neat little heap. I think women enjoyed crabs more than men once they are willing to get their hands dirty.
