The Star Newspaper, Saturday 4 April 2009Where in the Klang Valley can you find nasi kerabu, nasi dagang, mee rebus, and other delectable Malay fare at low prices? At Pondok, of course.
Frank and I are insatiable food hounds, which explains two things.
One, our swelling pot bellies, and two, why Dataran Sunway in Petaling Jaya has become our favourite hunting ground. Like Bangsar in Kuala Lumpur or Damansara Uptown in PJ in the 1990s, this enclave has experienced an explosion of cafes, restaurants and coffee shops.
One evening, we were waddling out of another new eatery, when something froze me in my tracks.
“Look!” I yelped, one hand tugging Frank’s sleeve urgently, and the other pointing to a shiny signboard shimmering softly in the sky.
It was yet another new eatery, simply named Pondok.
Curious, we advanced towards the menu standee. As we were skimming through the menu, a gentleman who had the regal bearing of John Forsythe came to our aid. “Would you like to come in and try?” he invited with a broad smile that revealed a neat row of teeth almost as shiny as his silvery-white hair.
Frank and I exchanged pained glances. It was tempting but we had just stuffed ourselves silly. We declined politely, but promised to return soon.
“Nasi kerabu,” I rolled the names nostalgically in my mouth. “Did I ever tell you I got hooked on Malay food when I was studying at Universiti Sains Malaysia?”
I developed an almost maniacal obsession for East Coast delicacies, in particular nasi dagang and nasi kerabu. Sadly, they were reserved for special occasions like convocation and hostel funfairs.
Fancy stumbling into a shop that sold authentic fare from the Malay heartland in Dataran Sunway, of all places. Whether it would meet the lofty standards of its provenance was another question.
“Shall we find out tomorrow?” I turned to Frank eagerly.
He agreed without hesitation. Pondok was considerably more crowded the next day. Still, there was a laid-back atmosphere that was infectious. As I slid into the mod white chairs, I could feel the last vestiges of my stress receding like an ocean wave.
Like its humble moniker, Pondok wasn’t lavishly decorated.
Fashionable plastic placemats took the place of tacky mahjong paper, a winsome miniature flowerpot sat in the middle of each table, and artsy photographs of food (the owner’s son’s handiwork) hung from the walls. There was enough detail to give the restaurant charm and personality, without making it seem over-the-top.
Pondok, opened in December, is run by a mom-and-pop team – Mukhtar and Pam, a former engineer and nurse respectively.
Sup Suzy, named after a friend who donated the recipe, was the first dish to arrive and I wasted no time in taking a sip. At the expression on my face, Frank grabbed a spoon and dug in without an invitation.
“Wow,” he croaked out.
The thick dark-brown broth recalled the heartiness and beefiness of the best oxtail soup, except this packed a surprising punch: tell-tale chilli flakes and, I suspect, heaps of local spices, with a few chunks of meaty beef bones added in for good measure.
By now, Frank’s plate of Nasi Dagang had arrived. My turn to nick a bite.
“Well?” he demanded.
“OMG, as you would say,” I said slowly.
Don’t tell the folks in Kelantan, but Pondok’s version would have them writhing in envy – the mound of rice with fried ikan kembung sprinkled with a pile of golden floss, pickled chillies, and a smear of bright orange-red sambal was easily one of the best I had ever tasted.
Predictably, Frank and I spent the rest of the evening stealing off each other’s plate.
When we returned the next day, Mukhtar broke into a mischievous grin at our now-familiar faces. At one point, when our heads were bent over our plates of mee rebus and nasi dagang, he ambled past casually and deadpanned, “You two are so quiet today, I wonder why?’’
Who had time to talk when you were eating food that’s good enough to stop conversation?
I am not a fan of mee rebus but Pondok’s incarnation had me licking the hearty gravy off the bowl. As for the delicate nasi dagang which exuded an almost-floral fragrance, it could rival the one I had in Kota Baru last month.
Meal No. 2 at Pondok was almost perfect – save for a minor tiff between Frank and I. The culprit? A brownie. Frank and I got into a fight over who would finish the last morsel (I won).
Studded generously with chopped nuts, the chubby rectangle of intense chocolatey goodness was at once crumbly and buttery and melted effortlessly in our mouths. You can eat Pondok’s brownie without any embellishments, though the generous dollop of ice-cream would propel you straight to sugar nirvana.
“Should I go for the curry laksa or asam pedas gulai on my next visit?” I wondered aloud.
Frank cocked his eyebrow in amusement. He knew I’ve done some crazy things in the name of good food, but this would mark the first time I insisted on going back to the same place, three days in a row.
There was just so much to love about the place. It’s cosy, it serves great food at humane prices (our meal of decently-portioned nasi dagang, mee rebus, brownie and drinks barely tipped RM15), and the people make you feel right at home.
Then again, I should expect nothing less. Who else but parents would go to such lengths to deliver top-notch stuff, whether it’s for the benefit of their children, friends or customers?
I should know – I’ve got parents like that, too.
- written by ALEXANDRA WONG -
click here for The Star Online version
click here for The Star printed version
