EatingAsia

Big on Baclaran

Manila's sprawl, when viewed from the window of a car crawling along one of it's traffic-choked major roadways, does not invite walking. But hidden in this urban tangle are neighborhoods, and the only way to discover them is to get out and hoof it.

We've taken a shine to Baclaran, a barangay anchored by the Redemptorist Church (also known as Baclaran Church) on Roxas Boulevard.

It's especially busy on Wednesday, novena day, when devotees of Our Lady of Perpetual Help crowd the building and overflow into its yard. It's said that a prayer to Our Lady is always answered.

On Sundays the church and the streets around it have a bit of a fiesta feel to them. The crowds aren't as thick as on Wednesdays, but everyone who's out seems to be enjoying him or herself. There's so much going on it's hard to take it all in.

Just outside the church's Redemptorist Road gate, one vendor sells bibingka, and rice cakes steamed in bamboo,

while another offers a range of Santo Nino statues. In the Philippines the Infant Jesus is believed to bring good luck, and at markets you'll rarely find a produce or fish vendor without a Santa Nino watching over his or her trade.

A grandmother with a captivating apple-doll face and smiling eyes is convinced to mug for the camera,

and further up the street, at number 3062, lechon is offered at Jay's. Their slogan: Crispy Na!

If a plate of roast pig doesn't appeal, there's also goto, Philippine rice porridge flavored with pork and topped with fried garlic,

paksiw, a sweet-sour stew made of lechon leftovers,

and succulent glazed meat on a skewer.

Nearby, appraoching the Baclaran LRT station, the jeepneys are lined up hood to tailpipe,

in front of a private market claiming to be the city's cleanest. There, vendors named Lexie and Elsa and Woody and Vacio sell meat, and fish fresh enough - and at prices low enough - to make a seafood lover swoon.

Just across from the meat, displays of abundance

and heaps of edible flowers add a splash of color.

Behind the cleanest market, a banana delivery.

In front, a fighting cock watches over plastic bins of rice,

a kitten stares wistfully at banana leaf-lined metal trays of krill and sardines,

and a fish seller strikes a pose,

while a child grabs a bite where he can.

Down Opena Street, on the other side of Baclaran Church, Mindanao-born mama of the Plaza family supplements husband Teofilo's earnings as a taxi driver by serving, from the first-floor kitchen of their tiny home, 

the best

pork sinigang, meaty and rich and clear and light all at the same time, pleasingly sour and packed with perfectly cooked vegetables - a heaven-sent pick-me-up on a hot morning.

In the narrow streets and alleys around, religious statues are offered for sale,

ice cream is scooped from an old-fashioned wheeled cart the likes of which you'll see all over Manila,

seaweed, oysters, and everything else from the deep is sold at the dimunitive Seaside Market,

breakfast is taken curbside,

a shuffle pool tournament is underway,

fish is grilled over coals,

'Hey Joe! One shot!' is shouted from hither

and yon,

and two strangers are welcomed in a way they've come to think of as very Filipino.

Yes, we've taken a shine to Baclaran.

You Can Help Save Hong Kong's Central Street Market

Hong Kong's Central Street Market is in danger of disappearing. One of the few remaining open-air wet markets in central Hong Kong, the Central Street Market dates back to 1841. Proponents of the market don't argue for leaving it as it is, but for preserving it intelligently and sensitively, keeping in mind its historic and cultural value.

We love Asian wet markets and, if you're a regular reader of this site, you probably do too. All it takes is a quick clickety-click over here to access the petition (on the righthand sidebar), sign it, and send it. Be sure to note your city. It doesn't hurt if the Hong Kong development authorities know that potential tourists care about this historical treasure, one of the few left in Hong Kong.

Melaka Mix-Up

The words 'Chinese' and 'curry' rarely appear in the same thought bubble. But here in Malaysia, a country whose cuisine is a glorious mish-mash of influences Indian, Indonesian, Malay, European and Chinese, Malay cooks fry halal char kuey teow, a noodle dish of Chinese origin, Indian nasi kandar vendors cook up duck, a fowl not often associated with Indian cuisine, and, as we found in Melaka, Chinese cooks prepare a mean pot of curry.

Ji Chang Jie Curry Rice has been in business for around fifty years. A decade ago you would have found it on Jonker Street, right in the midst of Melaka's historic center. That was before the lifting of rent control and city-sponsored 'beautification', in the form of a project dubbed 'Jonker Walk', drove it and most of the street's other old occupants out. Now the establishment sits well beyond the reach of tourists on foot, but original customers and their offspring still crowd its tables at lunchtime. We were lucky enough to be introduced to the place by S, his wife S, and their daughter S. S remembers driving into Melaka every Saturday with his father to indulge in Ji Chang Jie's pork curry and go-withs.

Fatt, the current owner-operator, told us that the restaurant was started by his father, who'd labored in various eateries before starting his own. His father's curry recipe is Malay-, rather than Indian-influenced, and includes plenty of lemongrass and chilies and only a bit of coconut milk.

Two big pots greet arriving customers - one for the curry, and one for the black soy and star anise-stewed eggs, tofu, and pork bits that accompany it. All the meal's components - curry, tofu, eggs, and braised napa cabbage - are served in separate dishes (along with an extra bowl of curry sauce), to be mixed to taste with rice on the diner's plate. The compatability of red curry and sweet, herby soy sauce might not be immediately apparent, but here at Ji Chang Jie the Malay and Chinese flavors blend seamlessly, and lusciously. This is Malaysia, after all.

Ji Chang Jie's tofu is memorable, so fresh that a pronounced soy bean flavor steams right over the top of the hearty soy sauce braise, its texture firm and substantial but wonderfully, sauce-soppingly porous.

Fatt grinds the curry paste himself.

Its bright spices and subtle heat are complemented by deliciously fatty and perfectly falling-apart pork pieces and mashable potato chunks.

Having survived its move to less central premises with patronage intact, and growing, Ji Chang Jie looks set to stick around for a while. Fatt tells us he's teaching his daughter's boyfriend, a computer science graduate, to cook. Someday, he might want to take over the business.

Good reason to hope for a long-term downturn in the IT industry.

Ji Chang Jie Curry Rice, G-11 Malim Jaya, Melaka (look for the row of shophouses on your left if you're heading in from Melaka center), 8a-2p. Closed Monday.

Perfect Palm Sugar Vehicle No. 2

No doubt about it, a pile of shaved ice combined with a ladle full of coconut milk and green mung bean flour 'pasta' is the best backdrop against which to show off gula Melaka's (Malaysian coconut palm sugar) seductive sweetness.

And this is the second best: plump little sweet potato donuts.

Kuih keria seem to be a Malacca specialty; there are several purveyors around town. But word has it that Kuih Keria Antarabangsa, a roadside shack opposite the beach to the northwest of the historic center, is the best. This family has been in business for over ten years - the recipe is the proprietess' aunt's.

The line snaking around the front of the shack is long, and so is the wait. Customers buy these sinful delights by the bag full. The sweet potato - mixed with flour - gives the donuts a slightly chewy texture. After being pulled from the fryer they're dropped in a bath of melted gula Melaka, and then pulled out wearing a thick, caramelized robe.

Little to no sugar is added to the dough, and gula Melaka's sweetness is well-balanced by its lightly bitter and smoky notes. The result is a delectable sweet with substance that, unlike American-style donuts, is not cloyingly sugary. Gorgeous to look at, even better to eat. These kuih keria are wonderful warm but hold up well enough to enjoy the next morning. If they last that long.

Krispy Kreme be damned. If this isn't the world's best donut, we don't know what is.

Kuih Keria Antarabangsa, Jalan Tengkera (follow Jalan Tun Tan Cheng Lock till it turns into Jalan Tengkera - as if you're heading to the old trunk road to Kuala Lumpur - the stall is on your right). 130-730pm, closed Friday. Also selling goreng pisang (fried bananas) and kerepok (fish crackers). The kuih keria tend to sell out early on weekends.