The Cocoanut

Ramadan, the month-long fasting period that precedes Aidilfitri, one of the major celebrations in the Muslim calendar, is only about a week away. Although I have observed Ramadan in Australia for the past three years, the experience of fasting always evokes personal memories of Malaysia in a way that no other celebration, be it Merdeka Day, Kongsi-Raya or even the Festival Membeli-Belah (Malaysia Shopping Carnival) can inspire.

After half-a-day’s worth of strict abstinence from food and drink, Muslims are rewarded at sunset with a feast where, rightfully, desserts feature quite prominently. One of my favourite is bubur kacang merah (Adzuki bean porridge). Contained in a bowl of my much loved bubur are the trinity that forms the basis for many of Malaysia’s desserts - santan (coconut milk), gula melaka (palm sugar) and pandan leaves (screwpine). The dark, heady sweetness of palm sugar is counterbalanced so perfectly by the rich and creamy santan, while the screwpine leaves provide a subtle but invaluable aroma to the porridge base.

Although this warm porridge is eaten in hot, tropical Malaysia with blissful joy, I think it is in cold climates, such as a wet, wintry Melbourne evening, that the bubur kacang merah will be fully appreciated. But of course, I’m happy to devour this in any weather condition.

(This recipe was adapted from The New Malaysian Cookbook by Nor Zailina Nordin and Fatihah Seow Boon Hor)

200g Adzuki beans
sufficient water to cover beans
80g granulated sugar (I use caster, only because it’s what I have, but the fine quality of caster is not essential here, as it is with cakes)
50g gula melaka/ palm sugar
2 pandan leaves/ screwpine (knotted)
¼ teaspoon salt
750 ml santan (coconut milk)

In a saucepan, boil Adzuki beans until really tender, almost mushy. Boil the beans as you would with pasta; use lots of water as the beans do soak up quite a bit.

In a separate saucepan, combine sugar, gula melaka, pandan leaves and salt, stirring occasionally until sugars completely melt. I would add some hot water to assist in the mixing.

Gradually pour in santan and cook mixture over medium heat. The addition of santan at room temperature can cause the sugars to solidify; if this happens, simply turn up the heat until the sugars melt. When the porridge boils, remove from heat.

When the Adzuki beans are completely tender, strain the beans and combine into the santan mixture. You can use the water left from the boiling to thin down the porridge if the mixture is too thick or too sweet. I would leave the pandan leaves in so the aroma does not subside, but I wouldn’t include them when serving in individual bowls, only because they are quite obtrusive, both physically and visually. (The one in the photo is purely for illustration purposes).

Last Sunday marked the start of Ramadan, when Muslims begin their month-long fasting ritual. Although many people understate the challenge of abstaining from food and drink for the better part of the day, I personally find it to be quite a daunting task. Every evening as I break fast, I am humbly amazed at my own, albeit small, personal achievement in this annual test of faith.

Of course, just as it is with school tests where most merely pass and only a few succeed with flying colours, my fast is completed with many imperfections and faults. But I am extremely grateful to belong to a religion that seeks the best of its followers, yet at the same time immensely tolerant and understanding of human frailties. And so I begin each day with the hope that each fast will be better than the last, and pray that I gain more from this test of faith than simply hunger and thirst.

Fasting always brings back the best memories of growing up in Malaysia. The Ramadan Bazaar is a Malaysian institution equal in stature to the venerable pasar malam (night market), where we would browse through stall after stall selling the most cherished dishes in the country, from nasi biryani gam to nasi dagang, the common kuih talam to kuih pelita, those fragile puddings delicately flavoured with pandan and coconut milk, filled in rectangular cubes of banana leaves. And then there will be at least one stall selling ayam percik, grilled chicken basted with a spicy gravy, that will provide the unmistakable smoky aroma and air pollution that accompanies every Ramadan bazaar.

For tonight, I find myself with a rapidly ripening avocado. Avocadoes, like bananas, bruise quickly, and so I decided to make an avocado smoothie, if only to get rid of the avocado before it goes to waste. It was in fact, a really good way to get rid of avocado, as the resulting smoothie was thick and rich. Every heavy gulp was a luxurious thirst-quencher, the neutral but unmistakable creaminess of avocado counterbalanced by the faintly-sweet addition of a drizzle of honey and sugar (actually, it was more than a drizzle).

For the main meal, it was a simple, traditional Malay arrangement; rice with an accompanying dish of vegetable and meat. The vegetable dish was a stir-fried assortment of deep-fried eggplants, capsicum and Chinese broccoli, liberally drizzled with a dressing of soy sauce, vinegar and sesame oil. The meat was opor ayam, chicken slowly cooked in coconut milk and kurma powder until most of the liquid has evaporated.

To finish off the meal, I baked chocolate macarons. To be honest I’ve never had macarons before so I’m unsure if my macarons turned out into what they’re meant to be, but all the same I’m quite happy with the result; a chewy shell that gives way to a very moist chocolate ganache filling.

To all Muslims, have a blessed Ramadan ahead.