He arrived in a cloud of (exhaust) smoke, four yellow plastic trays of curry puffs strapped to the back of his motorcycle.
'Puffs?' he asked, but we brushed him off. Yeah, yeah, curry puffs - a dime a dozen in this country. Besides, we were too focused on our clay pot of spicy gut soup to be distracted by mere pastry.
Then he laid a tray on the table and lifted its clear plastic tarp to reveal the biggest, fattest, most beautiful puffs we'd ever seen. We reconsidered. We bought two.
After finishing our soup and mopping our brows we pondered the puffs - exquisite works of pastry art they were, disks of layer upon layer of brittle golden dough folded over and sealed with neat pleats, their backsides a whorl of concentric circles.
With the merest of pressure shards of light, croissant-like layers fell away to reveal more filling than one usually finds in three puffs put together. Every inch of the dough pocket was packed with spicy curried potatoes so savory I'd swear they were mixed with meat (but he said they were not).
We wanted more. We stood up and looked around. But he was gone.
The beauty and the agony of the itinerant vendor, bearing untold treasures but perhaps - probably - never to be seen again.
For the Klang Valley's finest potato curry puff, try your luck in the vicinity of this restaurant in Seri Kembangan sometime between, say, 1 and 4pm (we didn't check our watches). One and a half ringgit per puff. Yes, relatively expensive for this common treat, but well worth it given the size, heft, and overall quality of this extraordinary puff.