3 Words: Fish Paste Noodle!

"There is no love sincerer than the love of food."

George Bernard Shaw

Amen. Stop tuh wars foh tuh lub of grub!

Today, my dear beloved readers, is one of those short post days when I feel physically unable to meet the demands of vigorous typing and prolonged periods of general consciousness (the natural state of humankind is somnolence - just like cats and certain breeds of dogs). My schedule says that I got Death by Microbiology Test tomorrow and I'm already feeling the wanderlust of the North Indian Grand Backpacking Escapade (yes, giving awesome names like that does make things awesomer) which the compadres and I are still in the addictive and surprisingly fun process of planning. The embarkation of this enterprise is still months away from actually happening, though. Damn you, Lonely Planet!

Anyway, back to this short post of mine - welcome to one of my favourite lunch slash dinner places in Malacca;

Ly Sing.

This is where I go to get my weekly fix of Hong Kong Fish Paste Noodle when I'm in Malacca. Frankly, I can't vouch for the veracity of the 'Hong Kong' bit - but if Hongkies don't actually eat Fish Paste Noodle, they are missing out on some seriously delectable munchables, I can tell you.

Here's a standard bowl;

All parts included. No assembly necessary. Batteries sold separately.

I'm not very good with this food review business so I'll just point out what those floaty things in the bowl are. That black mass of jelly-like stuff is (was) dried seaweed, and the golden-brown, crinkly things are minced fish meat wrapped in deep-fried, extra-satisfyingly-OMG-crispy foo-chuk (soya sheets) - all hot-tubbing in a savoury yet clear soup with fragrant pieces of fried onion and chopped spring onions swimming in it. Underneath it all lurks the noodle part of the bargain. I usually opt for equal parts of mee and kuey teow.

You can have the option of having a tom yam soup base but I wouldn't go that way if I'm you. Not many people like that.

And those white, irregularly shaped bits that looks like wads of crumpled tissue paper is the fish paste (well, sorry to disappoint you but they don't come in little squeeze tubes).

Believe it or not, this used to swim in the ocean.

I've seen them prepare make the fish-paste pieces from a tupperware container stuffed to the brim with the fluffy, squishy white goop. They would spoon bits out and drop them in a pot of boiling soup with the noodle and seaweed to cook. After that, the fish paste would shape up and lose its squelchiness, becoming firm like fishballs (but suppler, more absorbent and waaay softer). In both consistency and taste, I prefer fish paste though they are pretty much made out of the same thing.

One of the best time to pay Ly Sing a visit is 6 o' clock or thereabouts in the evening, when they open for the dinner crowd. You'll usually be the only customer then. After 7.00 pm, it's a mealtime mêlée for seats, especially in the weekends. They are open around lunchtime too but I could never wake up that early when I was on holiday. Plus trying to beat the schoolchildren-chauffeuring Mommies and Daddies for a table isn't really my kind of sport.

And to get there, just drive to where that replica of an ancient Portuguese sailing ship-come-museum is located. Then, drive on till you reach that beached gunship belonging to the Malaysian Navy (TLDM). You should be able to see the corner shop practically standing right in front of you in Plaza Mahkota then. Just remember that it closes really early at night - about after 9.00 pm, I think (but I can't say for sure because I'm usually sleeping at that time).

This has been another quality post brought to you by the dedicated crew of k0k bL0k. We live to serve *kowtows*.



Devourer of fish paste,
k0k s3n w4i