Hankering for Penang Food?

Morning Market at Pulau Tikus - Joe's T-shirt

Putu piring - Ceylonese dish

After the rains cleared, we went to see Joe who makes a Ceylon dish called "putu piring," which is a rice flour, hand  squeezed through a little press to make thin, cold noodles, which he then dunks in brown sugar and coconut; he let me try the press and make the noodles.  It was difficult and much easier just to eat them!

This morning it rained so hard at the "wet market" that everybody hunkered down under the tin roof of the market, a roof that made the pounding of the rain sound terrifying and terrific.  This lovely chicken lady just kept on chopping her chickens and paid little attention to the rain that was splattering her back!

Fried oysters I won't eat because I know how they make them with glutinous flour to  make the egg and oysters stick together; the process doesn't do justice to the final taste, which is, I admit from having them on another trip, sublime.

Last night we went to New Lane where rows and rows of hawkers' stalls line the street which closes from 4-11 every night, and tables line the street, parking lot and any spare spaces available.   It's a hustle-bustle of food, aromas, people and eating.

The natural world grows out of an aging man-made world.

I will get to the food, but first I need to fold in the town's texture - everywhere.  You can see where Penang is going and where it's been.

Did anyone know that fish have tongues?  If I am not reading this photo wrong, because I found this mouth at one of the fish counters at the Pulau Tikus morning market, I am assuming fish tongue.  Who knew?  If anyone does know, please inform me!

Then, we have the whole eel, which reminds me of when we went hiking/camping on the Appalachian Trail and Jack caught an eel with his hand-made fishing rod; he let the rod go when there was a big tug, but John retrieved it, and we dined on eel in port wine that night, which did mean that we had to relinquish a little of our port stash, but the advantages outweighed the loss.

These black fellas are fermented chickens.  Again, who knew??

I love the notion of "small" and "big" instead of shades of gray like "medium" or  "giant."

You have to love the guy who sees my camera out and asks randomly if I would take his picture; here  he is whoever he may be!

    I have just finished Gioconda Belli's Country Under My Skin and Anne Enright's The Gathering, both excellent reads; Belli's description of her life as a Sandinista in Nicaragua is compelling if a little self-serving, and
Enright's books is a tautly woven tale about an Irish family after the death of one of its members.  Secrets abound and questions of veracity and history and recollection rear their heads.  Just bought Coetze's Waiting for the Barbarians, the only NON Danielle Steele I could find!!!