I was first introduced to Malaysian food more than 30 years ago by a Singaporean college friend. The restaurant in question was Melati in London’s Soho, sadly long gone but in my case not forgotten.
Until that point, my experience of Asian food had been “safe” Cantonese and the occasional ersatz Thai at a disaster of a place near the college campus. Now, here was an entirely different cuisine in all its glory, its satays (skewered meat and fish), laksas (rich coconut broths) and sambals (chili-based condiments) a revelation.
Even from the street, Scarsdale’s new Malaysian restaurant, Lemak, is inviting; the fried garlic smell from within, arresting. Inside, with just seven tables for two and a larger table in the window with bench seating for six, the restaurant is certainly cozy. One wall is decked out with bamboo and large, round mirrors. On the other, psychedelic wallpaper lends a 1960s Asian vibe. I’m not sure what to make of those swatches – swaths? – of what look like curtain material samples hanging just below the ceiling, or what appear to be fish-skeletons interwoven with fur hanging on the inside of the street door. (I know it’s considered lucky to hang fish bones above the door in restaurants in Japan, so could these and the curtain swaths, be some kind of symbol?) Regardless, the place is charming, so “jom makan”! (“Let’s eat.”)
As I consider the menu, server Adit brings a glass of Teh Tarik, or “pulled” tea. This is typical Malaysian tea made from condensed milk and topped with froth, similar to fashionable Taiwanese bubble tea. Very sweet, it’s an interesting start to lunch – and a great one if you haven’t had breakfast.
For an “aperitif,” though, I actually do better with my habitual Diet Coke, which comes in a chilled can, with a glass packed with ice.
Adit runs through the menu with me and ascertains my heat tolerance level. I kind of want to sound butch and say “hot,” but I have gotten myself into trouble before. At any rate, not wanting to sound chicken, I settle for “medium.” “I’ll bring you some hot sauce for you to add yourself if you want it,” says Adit, with a twinkle. I feel I’ve made a good call.
Nasi Lemak, “the world-famous Malaysian delicacy,” as the menu describes it, is a relatively mild chicken curry with hard-boiled egg and cucumber. Served with a bowl of coconut rice, it’s a one-pot stop, although for me it’s the accompanying roti canai – a flaky, melt-in-the-mouth flatbread, somewhere between a freshly-baked croissant and a Moroccan mesmen pancake – that steals the show.
I can’t “go Malaysian” without ordering laksa. This wonderfully fragrant coconut-infused broth, with prawns, fish balls, tofu and vermicelli noodles, is another one-pot stop, an entire meal of itself. Lemak’s version is fresh, fragrant and oh-so-generous. So is a portion of mee goreng, fiery stir-fried noodles with vegetables, tofu, chicken and shrimp.
With coconut the basis of so many Malaysian dishes, it can become cloying, but Lemak chef Bala Saminqthan’s judicious use of it avoids this pitfall.
Were I a normal person, I’d stop here. That, of course, is not the case. So, it’s on to beef rendang, the famous Malaysian dry curry, “rendered” to its characteristic oiliness streaking the bottom of the dish. There is a superb oiliness, too, along with unctuousness, in a wonderful shrimp sambal, the “medium” heat suddenly starting to kick in. Red chili, garlic, ginger and shallots combine to form the most vivid vermillion sauce, coating the plump shrimp. The zing of lime and slices of cucumber help cool the dish a little, but beyond them you’re on your own.
Don’t miss dessert – and don’t judge a book by its cover. If you were being kind, you might say Bubur Cha Cha looks like a thin gruel. It is indeed a delicious blend of sweet potato and sago (a starch derived from palm stems) with coconut milk – again accommodating the Malaysian sweet tooth. But I don’t have a sweet tooth and I loved it. Ditto Cendol, sweet shaved ice with pandan-flour jelly and palm sugar, a curiously satisfying coming together of taste and texture.
Lemak is the sort of restaurant we could use more of in our area. Faithful, modest, inexpensive, it speaks of authenticity and real passion. Owner Jeevan Pullan, who owns several other restaurants in Westchester and Fairfield counties, including Vega Mexican Cuisine and NH 44 Indian in Hartsdale and branches of Jaipore Express in Briarcliff Manor and Ridgefield, has done a terrific job.
Remember those curtain swatches and fish scales? When I ask for the bill, I ask Adit about their significance. “They don’t actually signify anything,” he tells me. “They were just the idea of the owner’s wife when she was decorating.”
Heigh-ho, now we know.
For more, visit lemakmalaysian.com.
