WE are halfway through 2020, and it feels like we’ve seen just about everything. The ripple effects of a global pandemic are just beginning to settle into our realities, whether it’s ordering takeaway, wearing masks or refraining from hugs and handshakes.
The economic impact of Covid-19 is also beginning to rear its ugly head, with job losses and pay cuts affecting millions of lives. With tighter budgets and unknown futures, now is the time to count every penny and put it where it counts.
A unified call to support local businesses has been making its rounds on social media, and I couldn’t agree more. But taking it one step further, I’d like to suggest support for “disconnected” businesses, those who don’t have an online presence. For if there’s one thing I missed and learned to appreciate more over the last several months, it’s our local food scene.
Sure, for a while my husband and I cooked up a storm and filled our fridge with strange-sounding ingredients in anticipation of our next culinary adventure. I also spent many an hour on social media for food delivery and takeaway options, double tapping pretty pictures of gastronomic delights and tucking away recipes for coffee foam and tapioca balls.
But after the novelty of eating according to the new normal began to fade and movement control order (MCO) days dragged into months, my stomach began to rumble in a familiar way. It was a craving. I wanted to eat pan mee cooked by a specific aunty at the food court I used to frequent pre-MCO.
The problem was, she wasn’t on social media or any of the food delivery platforms. When my husband drove there to see if she was open for takeaway, her stall was neatly packed up.
That’s when I realised that eating according to the new normal didn’t just mean TikTok recipes or fancy brunch food packed in classy white boxes. In the haze of exploding trends on social media and my haste to not be left behind, I’d forgotten about the everyday food experiences, the little joys that kept me going each week, month and year.
Our real comfort food, the dishes we look for not to celebrate a birthday but after a long day at work or when nursing a broken heart, are often cooked by those who are “disconnected”. These are the uncles and aunties who may not be so comfortable with a smartphone but can dish up a mean plate of char kuey teow or bowl of spicy, yummy tom yam soup with their eyes closed.
From kai si hor fun (chicken noodle soup) to banana leaf rice and nasi lemak, I craved them all during the MCO period. But the harsh reality was that cravings alone weren’t enough to sustain many of these small businesses. Most did not have an online presence, much less know how to navigate the complex path of working with food delivery apps and digital services.
Over the months of MCO, several of our usual go-to hawker stalls put up makeshift signs announcing that they would not be operating for an indefinite period of time, while others folded completely without any notice.
The sad truth is that if we don’t support the local businesses run by these hardworking, dedicated individuals who are struggling to adapt in a digital world, we may wake up one day only to find that our stomachs and souls are yearning for a dish that no longer exists.
As the nation rebuilds and the economy begins to pick up again, let’s not allow the rich heritage of our local dishes to fade away in the distance as we speed forward with our lives. Our country takes pride in its diverse cuisines because they reflect what Malaysians hold close to heart: community, food, traditions and people. Let’s keep that going.
Comments: letters@thesundaily.com
