Having lived with them for nearly two decades, I have found out that my two stepsons, aged 25 and 26, must have chilli sauce to go with their meals. And there were times when chilli sauce was the sole item on the menu to go with rice and that did not perturb them at all, goodness me.
They are not alone on this as my former Malay neighbour said the same applies to his two sons who have been friends since childhood with mine. In fact these four have been inseparable up till now. Apart from that, my two young gentlemen favour only chicken, fish and sausages only taking other meat or food items when patronising eateries in town.
All along, our shopping has been made easy due to such moderate and undemanding craving. It also has given us, the parents ample opportunity to experiment with different brands of chilli sauce available in the market. Just name it, we have tried them all.
In this regard, upon some pondering I came to be reminded about the remarkable contrast between modern city life in comparison with its counterpart in the remote hinterland well hidden by the canopies of trees in the ulu whose scenario has not changed much over the last five decades or its half a century equivalent.
In the 60s, items such as chilli sauce were alien to us sons of the jungles. Salt and sugar were ‘must-have’ items for every household. As my family stayed most of the time away from our longhouse, at our dilapidated but comfortable and ‘free of stress’ residence, we used to have a good stock of salt, especially in the absence of any form of refrigerating implement. A large amount of salt was necessary in the event of any good hunting or fishing trip.
On a few other trips, especially during school holidays, he and Jon managed to take home a game of wild boar or deer. Without Jon, he would go far not for fear of the jungles or darkness, but more for the company and help, just in case a wild boar
or deer got unlucky – his shotgun is inherited by Jon and this reminds me that my licence to carry arm (just that very shotgun only) has not been renewed for two years.
I used to join dad for night fishing trip using the ‘pigo’ (special custom-made oil lamp with handle), a pastime that proved useful in providing us good source of protein as most of the time we took home good catches of fish, prawns and frogs. During one of the trips we caught more than 30 bull frogs, including seven that dad killed mating at one place – he used the forked spear to kill the top three and a machete to complete the job on four others underneath. He made me an accomplice to such cruel deed by letting me hold the pigo. All of them ended up in the bamboo containers, numbering around six or seven in each. Frog in bamboo, then, was – and still is – the most delicious dish in the planet and it would not go well with chilli sauce.
There were times when we had nothing to go with rice for lunch or dinner. What I would do was to take a long fishing rod out of the ‘ridan’ palm with fishing line number eight to go with accurate hook and looked for earthworm as bait. Half an hour later I would be back with my favourite ‘tebalang carp’ that my mom would immediately fry for to go with rice and some local vegetables. The ‘tebalang’ carp, aplenty in the few river pools near to our humble residence, were the greediest fish around especially with the earthworm bait – I always told mom and grandma that I used ‘buntak’ (grasshopper) for fear that they would not take fish hooked with earthworm as bait. For the ‘tengas’ carp, which is the smaller version of the ‘semah’, the most effective bait was the green grasshopper ‘buntak duut’. But to catch this ‘tengas’ carp, one has to fish at the fast flowing water about less than a knee-deep. It won’t take bait in a still and deep water environment. This ‘tengas’ carp fishing takes longer time and more tiring as compared to the rod fishing at pools where one just sits and waits for the fish to take your bait which can be easily seen from your sitting or standing position. I would not be able to ascertain whether the ‘tebalang’ carp or any other fish could see me standing by the side of the riverbank and holding the rod as fish then couldn’t talk and I am sure they still can’t talk now. My immediate concern then was to take home a few for my mom to fry or cook otherwise and of course without any chilli sauce.
Fish, frogs and prawns in those days used to be cooked in bamboo containers. Even if chili sauce was available, it would not go well with bamboo-cooked items.
Back to the present, a trip to any of the Kentucy Fried Chicken (KFC) joints in Kuching or Desa Ilmu is a much welcomed change of chosen spot for the two young men. With his favourite chilli sauce abundantly available at KFC, I am sure the younger of the two, his wife and five-year-old daughter, are frequenting KFC, now that he is gainfully employed. For that matter my granddaughter has taken after her dad’s craze and craving for sauce – hers is tomato sauce. It seems after nearly twenty years, my son’s craving for the item may last eternally.
For sauce loving readers, take note that I have nothing against chilli or tomato sauce, in fact I do take both now and then but certainly need other items besides them to go with rice.
