Posts Tagged ‘singapore’

  • The reality of grocery shopping in Malaysia

    2

    I’m writing this early in the week, just back from a grocery trip.

    When you see documentaries on Asia, the hosts always tell you what wonderfully fresh produce you can get in Asia. Look at all the wet markets! Aren’t those women sitting in the middle of piles of vegetables straight from the farm? Look, look how shiny the aubergines are, how erect the broccoli, how green the spinach!

    After half a decade of living in south-east Asia, the reality does not meet such lofty statements. First of all, you have China. Yeah sure, you want erect broccoli or carrots, you can buy them cheap. Problem is, they come from China, and I don’t trust anything from China. So, if I go to a supermarket, and see “China” on the labels, I don’t buy it. That essentially cuts out Western-style broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, nicer-looking potatoes, apples, pears, oranges, mandarins, peaches, plums and carrots, to name a few.

    The alternatives are: Australian carrots? Expensive. US potatoes? Riddled with black holes and scars from the harvesting machines. Also limp. Broccoli? Can’t get it, have to depend on local (or Hong Kong) kai lan instead. Cauliflower? Forget it. Cabbage? Have to wait until a load arrives from the Malaysian highlands. And, as you can guess, all these are more expensive due to their relative scarcity.

    I can go to a wet market but if I ask where something is from, they’ll lie to me and tell me everything’s local, which I know they’re not because the damn boxes the vegetables came in are still under the tables, clearly specifying their origins.

    So that’s vegetables. Try to stray from a very narrow range that the locals buy, and you’re in trouble.

    Let’s go to meat, because I’m a carnivore and so is the rest of the family. Imagine you’re an average Malaysian, earning $3,500/month. That works out to $833/week for a family of four to six (parents + kids +/- grandparent +/- servant). Take away mortgage payments, car payments, utilities, clothes, and so on, and you’re probably left with $250/week for groceries. What can that buy and, more importantly, what is the quality of what it buys?

    Chicken is the cheapest at around $6.80/kilogram for a whole bird. Parts are obviously more expensive. At Tesco, you will see shipments of chicken parts. Average price is around $8 to $8.50/kg. Tesco’s wonderful hygiene policies mean that chicken that is a couple of days old (and resting on beds of ice) is mixed with chicken that just came in that morning. What this gives you is a wonderful technicolour display — pink, green, yellow — for you to pick through, together with dead flies and strands of woven nylon packaging. How appetising! Frozen tripe is $13/kilogram, frozen beef lung (don’t ask) is $13/kilogram. Average Australian steak begins at $40/kilogram and is guaranteed not to be tender. Eight slices of Gouda or Edam cheese will set you back $17 and, as a bonus, will be past its expiry date.

    At Carrefour, they don’t mix meats like that. Oh no, in Carrefour, they follow the policy of their parsimonious temperate-climate parent company and have no air-conditioning whatsoever in the entire store! This also extends to the meat section. We have been caught out with shrink-wrapped meat that, once unwrapped at home, has proven to be…oh, how shall I put this?…rotten.

    Jusco, the Japanese chain, is best for meats, but you’re paying a premium of $2.00/kilogram over market price. I only buy fresh salmon from Jusco (at $50 – $70/kilogram). You think that’s expensive? Cod is $110/kilogram! Lamb is cheaper than Tesco (frozen only) at $50/kilogram. There’s no chance in hell I’m getting any veal because nobody sells any.

    Giant is good and cheap for non-perishables but, like Tesco, they try to sell you green vegetables that have disintegrated, rotten onions, and food past their due date. They also sell defrosted meat that they’ve chucked into the freezer section to refreeze.

    Mydin is the cheaper, Malay-based supermarket chain. Being Malay-based, don’t expect to find blocks of cheese, cream, alcohol, pork products or, in fact, anything of quality. (The processed cheese slices are a mix of cheese with palm oil, the “ghee” is a mix of butter and palm oil, the chocolates are a mix of chocolate flavouring and palm oil, the butter bricks for baking are a mix of butter and palm oil, the cooking oil is palm oil…you get the drift.) The vegetables are nice and fresh but anything not grown locally is from…you guessed it…China, and the variety available fluctuates alarmingly.

    Once chicken on ice starts to go off, it gets shrink-wrapped, put in another section and sold at the original price. Carcasses of local beef are hung up in the meat section and get cut off the bone with a medium-sized general-purpose knife or dagger (I’m not kidding you). There is no concept of “cuts”; you just point to a section that looks kinda meaty and the guy heaves into it with his knife. If you’re lucky, this costs you $24/kilogram. When only the skeleton is left, someone goes through it again in the back room, scraping together the small scraps of meat and fat that are left, shrink wraps it and sells it for $18/kilogram. On the upside, the store is air-conditioned so, at one degree north of the Equator, let’s be thankful for small mercies.

    The only other way you can get beef chunks is to buy buffalo meat from India. They are available in most supermarkets, come in 900g (two pound) blocks, cost about $9-10/block, and most of it, defrosted, is nothing more than sinew and ribbons of tough skin. I have also found buffalo hair, human hair and pieces of wood mixed in with the meat. Available mutton is Australian, frozen, cleaner, $25/kilogram, almost 50% fat, and needs to be sliced thinly, then boiled for an hour, before you can start cooking with it.

    Let’s go to pork products. The “bacon” you get here (whether in Malaysia or Singapore) is waterlogged. In fact, I warrant that more than half the weight of meat is actually water. It’s also been “fiddled with”. By that, I mean to say that there’s something nasty added to the chemical bath that produces a sharp, over-salty, chemical taste to the meat. I don’t buy it any more because I’m convinced there’s bad stuff in there. If I want imported Western bacon, then I have to pay $30 for 250g of bacon rashers that’s mostly fat. It tastes better, but there’s not much left of it at all once it’s been on the grill and shrinks to less than half its size.

    Let’s pause for a wallet check. For a family of four looking forward to a weekend fry-up, expect to pay $60 just for the bacon, $20 for two punnets of mushrooms, $7 for eight nice-looking tomatoes, $5 for one small loaf of non-sweet bread, and $2 for six eggs. So that’s Sunday breakfast for $94 at home, not including beverages (double the prices for Singapore), and just that one meal consumes almost half the weekly grocery budget!

    The local pork is tough and mostly sold in strips. Be prepared to pay $30/kilogram at Jusco if you want something that even superficially resembles a chop, but it’ll either be tough or dry.

    Quite simply, there is no local butcher shop as I’m used to because there’s no need. There isn’t an understanding of meat that most Westerners take for granted and even the green-hued chicken thighs get bought up (then washed, cooked and served up by unsuspecting grandmothers, is my reckoning). I’m convinced that if more people were educated about food quality, the supermarkets wouldn’t be able to exploit the consumer market like this but, as long as people are willing to cook with sub-standard primary ingredients (and they are, oh gods, they are), such a change will not occur.

    So you see, all that crap about fresh quality produce in Asia? It’s a lie. It’s like saying that everyone in Europe eats well because you found one farmer’s market outside Lyons. I’m sure there are some decent (rural) wet markets around but, for the average Asian urbanite, that’s simply not the case. And I’m sitting here writing this because every grocery trip is, ultimately, an episode in depression as I circle the aisles, not buying anything. As the family says on occasion, “Chicken? Again?”

    Yep. Sorry.

  • I am 500 years old, colonialism and Caucasianism

    0

    There are not too many ethnic groups around the world who can point to one specific event in history and say, “There, that’s where my race was born.” Usually, your ethnicity is something you’re aware of but is fuzzy and recedes into history. Not so for the Portuguese Eurasians of Malaysia (later, Singapore).

    This year is a Big Deal for us. It was in 1511 that Alfonso de Albuquerque invaded Melaka/Malacca and took the port by force. This was not the first time that the Portuguese tried to take Malacca, but they got thrown out in 1509 when the resident Sultan got wind of their plans. In 1511, a more prepared de Albuquerque and his armada returned to complete the conquest.

    Up to the point of Portuguese conquest, Malacca was an important trading port already centuries old. Over one hundred languages were spoken there and goods from as far away as Arabia and China were bought, sold and bartered. The avaricious Portuguese, stumbling across this financial jewel, of course had to have it and, in the process, destroyed it through a time of constant war, atrocities and strife.

    So the Portuguese were the first Western colonial power in the region. That lasted for less than 150 years until the Dutch invaded. Whatever else you say about the Portuguese, at least they believed in trying to assimilate with the native populations. (Hence, moi.) Not so the Dutch and, if you’re in any doubt about it, I suggest you talk to a knowledgeable Indonesian about their history under Dutch colonisation. (So much so that Indonesian patriots initially saw the Japanese invaders of WWII as liberators, until reality sadly showed them otherwise.)

    Then, after the Dutch, came the British and they managed to screw things up royally, as any impartial political observer of a young Malaysia’s founding precepts will tell you, before retreating almost sixty years ago.

    But the Portuguese Eurasians were there, through four colonial conquests (three Western and one Eastern), fleeing north, then south, as oncoming waves of invaders attempted to eradicate “half-breeds” from their patch of taken territory.

    While not wanting to actually (yuk!) marry us, it was the British who gave the Eurasians a start on the ladder of middle-class prosperity. Our European blood made us more palatable choices for posts as administrators, lawyers and public servants, a positive discrimination policy that the other races (rightly) resented. By the end of the nineteenth century, we were still Catholic (the Portuguese influence), but now owned our own landed properties and could afford servants of our own.

    So where are we now? From my estimates, the Portuguese Eurasian population numbers no more than twenty thousand throughout Malaysia and Singapore. Early this month, there was a giant parade and celebration in Malacca “celebrating” the 500th anniversary of the entry of de Albuquerque and his army of 1,200 men into the port. To my mind, that’s like the offspring of a rape celebrating the day her mother got violated.

    But we do that, don’t we? If the natives of Burkina Faso (and I’m using an hypothetical example here) had invaded and committed atrocities on the population of San Francisco back in the 1800s, I doubt that sequence of events would be celebrated with bands and fireworks a few centuries on. All I can do is look on, completely bemused, as it appears that we are prepared to excuse massacre after massacre because a Westerner did it.

    It goes further. Everybody tries to claim the “Eurasian” tag now. From the time when, as a teenager, I was described as a “slut” due to my race (all these half-breeds must fornicate at the drop of a hat, doncha know?), now it appears that every would-be model claims to be Eurasian and are lauded over in the press for their “Western features”, “blue eyes”, or whatever. All this, for a race that used to make other parents (Malay, Chinese, Indian) threaten to disown their children if even the whiff of a liaison with an Eurasian came up. Which is why, until very very recently, you get Eurasians only marrying Eurasians or Westerners. To be honest, nobody else wanted us.

    So believe me when I say, as a Portuguese Eurasian, looking back on half a millennia of personal history, that I don’t think it’s such a bad thing if we get diluted, genration by generation, and completely die out. The Portuguese themselves have never cared to establish any strong links with their communities scattered around the globe and the only value we seem to have in Asia is our connexion to some Western superiority trope that the continent still hasn’t managed to overthrow.

    In a so-called postcolonial world, we are still in thrall to Western fashion and while there are some Western concepts that should be taken up locally (fostering of innovation and creativity, participatory democracy, basic human rights, environmental awareness), that’s not what’s grabbing people by the long and straights. (Fyi, Asians don’t have short and curlies.) The people here seem to be more interested in the skin than the substance, the features rather than the ideas, Caucasianism rather than the categorical imperative.

    I call it Caucasianism but there should be a better term for this, the Asian equivalent of Orientalism, where the shallow features of a prevailing culture are used to infer deep (and, therefore, false) truth about that particular culture. In Caucasianism, we somehow conflate such trivia as the lack of epicanthic folds, the unhealthy pale skin, the height, the blue eyes, with sophistication and greater intelligence. This is a colonialist mentality far more pernicious and insidious than any Asia has suffered and we seem to have taken on its mantle eagerly. Asia really needs to grow up.

    * I’ll be out of action for the next two weeks. By the time I’m back, QUINTEN’S STORY should be out. Here’s hoping. Have a happy and safe holiday, if you are, and I’ll catch you mid-January.

  • Singapore, Curry Day and scapegoating

    0

    Recently, a news article hit the papers. An immigrant family, new to Singapore, was complaining about the smells coming from their Indian neighbour. You see, the Indian family was cooking curry on a regular basis and the immigrant family (mainland Chinese) found the aroma objectionable.

    The Indian family would close all doors and windows before cooking their curry but it appears that wasn’t enough. So much so that the Chinese family took the Indian family to a mediation centre. The ruling was that the Indian family could only cook curry when they were sure the Chinese family wasn’t at home. (Insert eyeroll here.) You can read the article here.

    In retaliation, some Singaporeans organised Cook and Share a Pot of Curry day last Sunday (21 August) (it’s on Facebook somewhere) to show that curry is part of the Singaporean national cuisine and that it should be encouraged, not discouraged.

    Feeling warm and fuzzy yet? Not so fast.

    Five years ago, there weren’t as many mainland Chinese in Singapore. The city-state was thriving with a large white-skinned expat community. The banks were living high off the hog (still are, but there were more bank employees around then) and there were Europeans everywhere. In this environment, J and I went apartment rental hunting. And almost the first question we were asked (during our initial telephone enquiries) was whether we were Indians or if one of us was married to an Indian. Remember that the rental agencies we were talking to were run by Singaporeans.

    When we went to visit apartments, the landlord (or his/her agent) would ask what kind of food we cooked. “Er, mostly Western,” was my reply. “No curries?” they’d persist. I’d shake my head. With my big Slavic husband by my side, it was a lie they easily accepted. The landlords we met, and their agents, were all Singaporean Chinese.

    At one complex we visited, we were told quite proudly by the agent that there were “no Indians” living in the block.

    By now, J and I were completely stumped. “What’s wrong with Indians?” we asked.

    “Their food is very smelly,” was the reply. “We don’t like renting to Indians.”

    Every single one of these comments came from Singaporean Chinese. It seems to be a well-known fact that the moment an agent gets an Indian family looking to rent a place, they get shunted to the less salubrious properties with less discriminating landlords. NIMBY* for curry.

    Yeah sure, mainland Chinese are bigoted. They make a big show of belonging to an older culture and thus are “superior” to everyone else. They have paler skins than the south-east Asian Chinese and make a big deal out of that as well. (Malaysian Chinese we’ve met have a particular antipathy towards mainland Chinese, calling them arrogant peasants.) Mainlanders also have singularly undeveloped senses of humour. (We know, we’ve worked with a few of them.)

    BUT…don’t blame them for an already existing problem. Singaporean Chinese were discriminating against Indians and complaining about the smell of their food long before one million mainlanders flooded the country. But I do applaud them for a neat sleight of hand. Now none of this is their fault At All. Well played, Singaporean Chinese. Well played.

    (*) NIMBY = Not In My Back Yard

    POSTSCRIPT: J reminds me that we also had to confirm that we weren’t mainland Chinese when we were apartment hunting. You see, the Indians may stink out the place (snort), but those same agents told us that mainlanders trash apartments. If you can see a bigger problem looming beneath this little feel-good band-aid, you’d be right.

  • Singapore stomach

    2

    I’m not sure what to make of the case I’m about to relate to you, so I’ll just tell you what happened.

    A few months ago, there was a celebratory event at a club. The people invited included locals and expats. The buffet lunch was provided by an external caterer. At that lunch was an Austrian friend of ours. Let’s call him…Karl.

    Karl and the other attendees didn’t eat as much of the food as the organisers anticipated so, at the end of the event, the organisers told everyone that they could take the remainder of the food home. Karl, newish to Singapore and still struck by the “exotic” food, came forward and got duly given some packages to take home.

    When he got home, he immediately asked his family to partake of the meal. “His family” consisted of a Singaporean fiancée and his parents, who were visiting from Austria.

    Later that night, all four people fell ill and were taken to hospital. Karl was sent home that night with some medication; his fiancée was discharged the next day; his mother was hospitalised for three days; his father stayed for five days.

    The Singaporean authorities leapt into action from the moment of admission. How did his family get sick? Where was he? Where did the food come from? Emails zinged back and forth as Karl tried to contact other attendees to find out who the catering company was.

    (For the record, J also suffered symptoms of very mild food poisoning from the same event.)

    Karl provided all the details he gathered to the Singapore authorities…and was told one week later that no action would be taken because he and his family did not contract food poisoning from a restaurant. Since it was an external caterer, he was told, there was no legislation in place to prosecute the offending company. This lack of legislation, he was additionally informed, also applied to hawker stalls.

    Karl was a bit nonplussed by this consequence and so was J. So, albeit almost half a year later, I did a bit of digging. In addition to finding out that there are more food poisoning cases in Singapore than anyone (i.e. Singapore) would like to admit, I came across the following:

    By the looks of things, hawker stands can be prosecuted by Singapore authorities. The case I’ve linked to is from 2009, involving the “Rojak Geylang Serai” food stall. The food stall was subsequently closed and a 13 April update says:

    Following the closure of ‘Rojak Geylang Serai’ at Geylang Serai Temporary Market on 4th April, transmission of food poisoning cases linked to the food stall had ceased. Since 9th April, there were no further notified cases to MOH [Ministry of Health]. The total number of food poisoning cases remains the same at 154, with 48 cases hospitalised.

    It also appears that catering companies can also be, at the very least, investigated:

    The Ministry of Health (MOH) and National Environment Agency (NEA) are investigating into a food poisoning incident involving a licensed caterer, ISS Catering Services Pte Ltd operating at Singapore Sports School, that was notified to the authorities on 4 November.

    To date, a total of 106 cases have been notified to MOH. All the cases, including 11 who needed outpatient treatment, have since recovered. None of the affected cases required hospitalisation….

    As a precautionary measure, the canteen operator, ISS Catering Services Pte Ltd, was required to clean up the food preparation and refreshment areas of the canteen. MOH has advised the school to be alert to new cases and to ensure high standards of hygiene among students, staff and food handlers. NEA will continue to work with the school to monitor the hygiene situation at the canteen closely.

    So what’s happening here? Is it the public that’s getting snowed by the Singaporean authorities (we are doing something), or was it Karl (we can’t do anything)? Maybe the authorities weren’t interested in pursuing the case because only three people were hospitalised and, out of those three, two of them are going back to Europe soon anyway and the third is a local?

    The only other viable explanation is that Karl is lying about what he was told but why would he? Up to this point, he’s enjoyed Singapore, even if he’s confused about why everyone is so obsessed over having white skin.

    So what’s going on here? Who knows. If you visit Singapore, just be aware that this is a tropical country and that food hygiene is not always the best.

    My personal recommendation is that you stalk Dr Vivian Balakrishnan, Singapore Minister of Community Development, Youth and Sports, and only eat where he eats. You see, there was a scare at the Youth Olympic Games last year, with 21 volunteers suffering food poisoning. Fearlessly, Dr Balakrishnan stepped up to the plate by admitting that HE is the quality control process:

    “I’ve made it a point every day to chat and have my meal with the volunteers. So that is my way of ensuring quality control [my emphasis --kaz], that the food for the volunteers is the same food that I eat.”

    There you go. No delusions of godhood or even due process here. Who needs a rigorous food hygiene regulatory framework when you have good ole Viv?

    POSTSCRIPT: If you follow the link about the Youth Olympics outbreak, you’ll notice that one of the volunteers who suffered food poisoning “wanted to be known only as Mr Tan.” This is how scared the average Singaporean is. You volunteer for an event, giving of yourself and your time. Something is mismanaged and you’re STILL too afraid to step forward and admit you were a victim. Pathetic.

  • Gong Xi Fa Cai (Kong Hee Fatt Choy)

    0

    And a happy Chinese New Year to you, stalwart reader. Today, most countries throughout south-east Asia grind to a halt as the economic engines that are Chinese small business owners take a couple of days off to eat and impress their way to the Year of the Rabbit.

    The Chinese zodiac is year, rather than month, based and, furthermore runs in a 12-year cycle, with a sub-cycle based on the five elements. According to legend, Buddha invited all the animals in the world to a feast when he was about to leave Earth, but only twelve showed up. In order, they were: rat, ox, tiger, rabbit, dragon, snake, horse, sheep, monkey, rooster, dog, pig. To honour them, Buddha named each of the years in the lunar cycle after them in the order in which they turned up at the meal. That’s not all, however. Each animal also runs through its own cycle based on the five elements of metal, water, wood, fire and earth. This new Chinese year, for example, is the Year of the Metal Rabbit.

    If you filter in the element as well as the animal, you will see that your particular Chinese zodiac occurrence only comes along once every 60 years.

    And why would an atheist talk about Chinese astrology? Why not? It’s fun, even if I don’t believe in it. Actually, especially if I don’t believe in it. The family are off to a lovely dinner today, which includes Yee Sang, originally a Teochew-style dish but now adopted by Chinese communities across Singapore and Malaysia.

    Personally, I think Yee Sang took off around here precisely because it’s messy and, by execution, causes great hilarity. What you do is this:

    1. Put a selection of ingredients onto a platter. The ingredients can include, but are not limited to, finely julienned carrots, capsicum, daikon radish, cucumber, pear, finely shredded kaffir lime leaves, lettuce, peanuts, orange and/or pomelo segments, lotus seeds, jellyfish, sea cucumber, pickled ginger, sesame seeds, fried rice vermicelli noodles, and so on. Really, your imagination is the only stumbling block at this point, but the keyword is grated (or finely shredded).
    2. Put a selection of sauces onto the ingredients on the platter. These sauces include plum sauce, lime juice, maybe apricot jam as well as kumquat paste, sesame oil and five-spice powder. The idea is to have a slightly sweet, piquant dressing but go easy on that five-spice powder.
    3. At this point, the next step may vary. My preference is to now have all the diners stand up and, with their chopsticks, try to toss everything as high into the air as possible, while singing out auspicious phrases.
    4. When everything is mixed and half of it is decorating the diners, chairs and table, everyone sits down, gets a portion of the salad, tops it with prawn crackers and slices of raw salmon (or mackerel) and digs in. (Most people toss the salad after the fish has been added but I never like missing out on my ration of salmon or mackerel if I can at all help it!) When finished, the rest of the meal proceeds as normal.

    I’ll let you know what was in the Yee Sang we’re going to have, so watch out for an update and Happy Chinese New Year to all! Have a great long weekend and catch you Monday.