Nothing like Granny's food

I just came back from Muar, having met up with a couple of old University friends from Malaysia. One of them, a Kuala Lumpur-ian, made a comment that stuck with me - that home-cooked food tastes the best.

Okay it was something to a similar extent. I think. Or maybe it was something I conjured up in my memory because I too, crave for home-cooked food when I've been deprived of it for too long.

Thankfully while studying overseas, I had one of the best room-buddies one could ever wish for. She was a neat freak, and most importantly as insane about eating, cooking and baking as I was. But while we cooked almost every meal we had there, we both still missed home-cooking because it cannot be defined by anything other than from the only home we know - hers in Mauritius and mine in Singapore.

Every summer vacation back home would be jam-packed with plenty of home-cooked food. I always looked forward to being stuffed to the tip of my head with food lovingly cooked by my mum and my grandma, the two pinnacles of home-cooking in my books. However, and perhaps rather oddly, there is another home whose cooking also makes my mouth water, with a fair amount of envy as well.

Back at the age when I just started picking up tennis, and of course also started taking on darker shades of chocolate, when I never had to worry about my waistline, a girlfriend welcomed me into her home for some exam revision (ah those were the days) and some simple grub.

It was really simple grub. A big pot of thick chicken curry and another even bigger pot of ultra-fine fried beehoon. It was really gorgeous watching the beehoon simply collapse under the delicious weight of the curry, and finally slurping down the tender, moistened noodles. The initially dry and stringy noodles was evidently never meant for any other purpose than to soak up the curry.

The liquid gold was thick, aromatic and truly yummy with just the right balance of curry spices with fresh coconut. I am somewhat averse to coconut milk, especially that which comes out of the packet. The flavour is too overwhelming for me. The curry however was thickened only slightly, and only at the end of the entire cooking process, by the first press of fresh coconut. That, the grandma said, was the secret to thickening the curry without overpowering the dish with coconut.

Her grandma is very old school and, like many other grannies, could not give me an precise recipe for the chicken curry. But something along the lines of 2 whole chickens, 2 bags of fresh coconut flesh, 1 small packet of marigold milk, some chicken curry spice bought from the wet market, a couple of potatoes, and some homemade chilli paste made from fresh chillies, dried chillies, shallots and garlic.

Not surprisingly, my attempt at it was not up to par. Thankfully, I have an open invitation to her place as long as I give some prior warning. Her granny often asks, "When is your 'dark friend' coming over for curry chicken and beehoon?" I don't think any amount of Olay will save me.