Latest news with #kopiO
New Straits Times
15-07-2025
- Entertainment
- New Straits Times
Ink in my veins: Growing up with the NST
"WHO wants to be a journalist?" I was 11 — and the only one who raised a hand. We were on a school trip to the New Straits Times building in Jalan Riong, Bangsar. For most, it was just a break from class. But for me, it felt like a pilgrimage. I still remember the guide's question that day — casual, perhaps rhetorical. My hand shot up anyway. What stayed with me wasn't the bus ride from Methodist Girls' School in Klang — it was the roar of the printing press, the clanging metal, the rhythmic hum of stories being born. I remember the warm sheets of newsprint and the sharp, inky scent in the air. That was the day I realised: stories weren't just told — they were made. The NST broadsheet had long been a fixture in our home. Delivered faithfully each morning by Uncle Mano — who, remarkably, still delivers the paper to our doorstep to this day — it would sit folded neatly on the dining table, often before any of us were awake. My late father would read the paper from cover to cover with his kopi O in hand, chuckling or snorting whenever something struck him as amusing, outrageous or wise. I'd sit beside him, tracing the headlines with my fingers, pretending to understand the grown-up words. In time, I did — and once I started, I never stopped reading. THE GOLDEN PENS In those formative years, the writers I admired were bylines I followed faithfully. Chief among them was Adibah Amin, whose Sri Delima column felt like a conversation with a witty, wise aunt. In one piece, she wrote: "We (Malaysians) have become hypersensitive... losing the ability to laugh at ourselves." It was a gentle reminder to develop thicker skins and softer hearts. If Adibah was the quiet voice of reason, Rehman Rashid was the thunderclap — brilliant, biting and unflinchingly honest. His Scorpion Tales were packed with sharp insight and rhetorical force. When I got to know him later, his encouragement to write gave my childhood dream renewed purpose. He was as formidable in person as on the page — but always generous with his words. These writers didn't just fill space in a newspaper. They filled a void in me — one that yearned for eloquence, for stories that mattered, for words that cut through the fog. NST AS CLASSROOM Beyond columnists, the NST had a stable of journalists who seemed to me like literary gladiators. I remember reading about the Jean Sinappa murder trial in the 1980s — how the paper's coverage was breathless and gripping, detailing courtroom drama and public opinion in equal measure. I didn't know it then, but I was getting my first taste of investigative reporting. In the NST's long and storied newsroom, there were figures whose leadership and voices shaped not just the paper, but the journalistic ideals we aspired to. K.P. Waran, who rose from war reporting to executive editor, embodied calm authority and generosity. Kadir Jasin led the paper through a politically charged era with sharp editorial judgment. Johan Jaaffar brought a literary depth to journalism, while Farrah Naz Karim, bold and fearless, champions accountability through her reporting and leadership. I didn't know most of them personally, but I studied them like teachers. Their writing taught me precision, integrity and the value of asking the questions others wouldn't. The NST was once more than a newspaper — it was an educational tool. Through School Times, NiE pullouts and youth features, it shaped classroom discussions and helped students, myself included, to sharpen our English and connect with the world. Today, the NST has embraced the digital age — delivering news via mobile alerts, long-form digital features and podcasts like Beyond the Headlines and Sunday Vibes@NST. These new platforms continue its legacy of storytelling in ways that are accessible, immediate and engaging — proof that tradition can evolve without losing its voice. Now, the NST is entering a new era — one where print and digital blend more seamlessly than ever. With QR codes embedded into its pages and stories now read aloud through smart devices, the paper is not just being read — it's being heard. This shift honours the spirit of storytelling while embracing how people consume news today. Students can now listen to articles, learn correct pronunciation, and engage with the language in ways that go beyond the printed word. For a publication steeped in tradition, it's a bold step into the future — one that ensures the NST remains accessible, relevant and resonant with new generations of readers. And for those of us who grew up clutching the broadsheet at the breakfast table, it's a thrill to see the same paper we loved reimagining itself — once again, telling stories that matter in ways that speak to the times. THE PAPER TRAIL OF DREAMS When I eventually became a journalist, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. I didn't "decide" to be one — I had become one over time, like a pot left to simmer slowly until the flavours seeped into every fibre. It was a calling planted in me that day at Jalan Riong when I stood before the printing press in my school pinafore. To say the New Straits Times was my gateway to journalism is only part of the story. It was also a chronicle of Malaysia's growing pains — recording Merdeka, May 13, reformasi, royal weddings, floods, elections, scandals and the haze. It documented the ache of farewells, the pulse of everyday life and the rare euphoria of sporting triumphs. Even as formats evolved — from broadsheet to compact, from print to digital — the NST remained a thread linking my personal history to the nation's. It taught me to love language, to cherish nuance and to value truth — even when truth was uncomfortable. Years later, I'd step into the hallowed halls of Balai Berita as a journalist — starting out on the very same second floor where the printing press once roared and where, all those years ago, my dream of becoming a writer had quietly taken root. Thank you for the years — all 180 of them. Ink may fade, paper may yellow — but the stories endure. And so does the dream.
Malay Mail
13-05-2025
- General
- Malay Mail
Brave the queue at Together Nasi Lemak in Seremban for their aromatic pork ‘berempah' and crunchy ‘ayam goreng XL'
SEREMBAN, May 13 — It's not often I would brave the queue at a popular shop or restaurant. Sometimes it just can't be helped. In Japan, nearly every decent eatery has a sizeable line outside, perhaps a cultural norm more than anything else. Sometimes it could be that the shop in question had just gone viral, perhaps for a Malaysian inspired pastry such as apam balik croissant or an unusual take on your favourite coffee. And sometimes it's simply because the food is good. This might explain why we have driven half an hour to Seremban for a full breakfast at Together Nasi Lemak. The stall is located inside S2S Food Court, Seremban. The stall is located inside the popular S2S Food Court in the Garden Homes neighbourhood. The food court itself is spacious, airy and very clean (something similar establishments in the Klang Valley might consider emulating). Plenty of options here, from bak kut teh and pork noodles to Hakka leicha and Thai style braised pork rice. But we're here for the nasi lemak. Certainly it's the stall with the longest queue, especially during lunch hours and on weekends. Like the food court's drinks station, it is self-service: you order, you pay, and you return for your order once it's ready. Thankfully the kitchen works at a clip so everything moves along very quickly. In almost no time at all, we have all our breakfast items on our table. The basic 'nasi lemak'. A hot kopi O and an iced ho kar sai to wet our lips before we dig in. The staff kindly separated our plates of nasi lemak from the dishes so we could share our food easily. The nasi lemak looks basic enough — the usual accompaniments of sliced cucumber, fried ikan bilis and groundnuts. A fried egg (cooked to order) instead of half a hard boiled egg. A generous ladle of sambal. Apparently the recipe for the nasi lemak comes from the owner's Nyonya grandmother. That touch of Peranakan culinary expertise is well appreciated; the Malaccan in me recognised the creamier grains of santan-cooked rice (they weren't stingy with the coconut milk!) and a heavier hand with the salt (a boon for anyone with a Malaccan palate). Pork Berempah. Even the aforementioned sambal gets two thumbs up from us. We are far from devotees of a saccharine sweet sambal so this spicier and far more savoury version hits all the right notes. A little bit of salt goes a long way, some say. We would argue more would go even further, as is the case here. A lovely, lovely sambal. Sambal Sotong (left). Freshly fried chicken (right). The best part of ordering nasi lemak is figuring out what proteins to have with it. Here the star has to be the Pork Berempah. There's the irresistible crispy 'spice floss' — a magical mix of every spice you can imagine, from coriander and cumin to lemongrass and curry leaves — that coats each piece of fried pork, still moist and juicy. For seafood lovers, try the Sambal Sotong; the squid is cooked in the same sambal served with the nasi lemak. Ayam Goreng XL. Of course, if you happen to look into their open kitchen and see a fresh batch of fried chicken, then the dish to order has to be their Ayam Goreng XL. Crunchy enough, this is the only dish we felt could benefit from a touch more seasoning. A whole chicken thigh makes this the largest portion of protein on their menu. Aromatic coconut milk rice. Spicy, savoury sambal. Juicy pork covered with rempah crisps. What more could one ask for, really? Together Nasi Lemak S2S Food Court, Persiaran Utama S2/4, Garden Homes, Seremban Open daily 10am-8pm Phone: 010-292 5525 * This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal. * Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.
Malay Mail
06-05-2025
- General
- Malay Mail
For authentic Hong Kong-style ‘chee cheong fun' and an old-school claypot ‘yee mee', head to Ten Hup Chee Cheong Fun in Kajang
KAJANG, May 6 – It can be challenging to find a decent Hong Kong-style chee cheong fun nowadays but we found one at Ten Hup Chee Cheong Fun in Kajang. For local residents, Ten Hup is a familiar name; the shop started as a stall along the food street behind the Kajang wet market almost four decades ago before opening a full restaurant in its current location along Jalan Bukit (the same row as Mingmom Chinese Cuisine, known for their Pork Lard White Kolo Mee). So basically the chee cheong fun shop hopped from one food haven to another, and just across the main road from its original site. What matters is that the taste has remained consistent. Part of the appeal of Hong Kong-style chee cheong fun over other approaches is that the restaurant would have to make them fresh to order. This is how you get soft, slippery rice rolls instead of the chewier, rubbery texture of premade chee cheong fun. Of course, this means some patience on the part of the customers as the shop would only be able to make a certain number at a time. When I strolled over to the chee cheong fun station at the entrance, there were already a number of customers waiting for their takeaway orders. Making fresh 'chee cheong fun' to order. — Pictures by CK Lim The staff manning the station mistook my curiosity for hunger (or so I assumed) and told me apologetically they were waiting for the water to come to a boil, in order to steam the rolls. Ah, all the better to observe the whole procedure, from start to finish! Honestly, there is a hypnotic quality to the entire process, a ritual if you will. Once the water is hot enough, the staff will ladle the right amount of very thin batter onto the muslin cloth spread over each rectangular steamer then quickly cover it with a domed lid. Scraping the steamed batter into rolls. — Picture by CK Lim It is a matter of minutes before they open the lid again and transfer the entire muslin cloth to the working area. They then drop morsels of cooked prawns or chasiu, before scraping the steamed batter into rolls, encasing its filling along the way. Quite lovely to watch, but even better when that plate of chee cheong fun arrives at your table and you can taste the staff's handiwork. Make sure to soak each piece in the seasoned soy sauce and add a smidgen of their homemade sambal for that extra kick. The drinks menu is typical of any kopitiam; you could have your kopi O or your teh C. We ordered their cham for a much needed caffeine kick but it was the Barley Pumpkin drink that was a true standout – naturally sweet and full of nutritious fibre. 'Cham' and Barley Pumpkin (left). Mini Lionhead Meatballs (right). — Pictures by CK Lim Most of us wouldn't be satiated with a plate of chee cheong fun alone, no matter how well executed the steamed rice rolls are. The shop thus offers an assortment of side dishes, from fried wantans and dumplings in soup and fried. We went for their Mini Lionhead Meatballs, which we rightly guessed had a crispier exterior due to their smaller size than a full-figured lionhead meatball (known as shizitou in Mandarin, these are typically larger and moist inside). Just enough of a crunch from the use of water chestnuts and savouriness from the generously seasoned minced pork. Delicious! If you're seeking larger bites, however, noodles are the way to go. Ten Hup offers wantan mee as well as homemade noodles in a variety of ways, from curry chicken and Hakka zha yuk (braised pork belly) for the former to a tomyam soup and dry spicy version for the latter. Yet the one noodle dish most tables would order is usually their very old-school Claypot Yee Mee. There is something magical about a hot claypot arriving at your table, wreathed in aluminium foil, that would wow even the most jaded of palates. Claypot 'Yee Mee'. — Picture by CK Lim The nest of fried noodles soaking up the hot broth, snatches of coarsely chopped leafy greens, fishballs and nuggets of minced pork, fresh prawns and to finish the dish, a single egg in the centre, its golden yolk still liquid and glistening. How could you resist this? We certainly couldn't. The only recommendation left would be the most obvious: Dig in while the food is hot! Dig in while the food is hot! — Pictures by CK Lim Ten Hup Chee Cheong Fun 天合香港豬腸粉 145F, Jalan Bukit, Bandar Kajang, Selangor Open Mon-Wed 8am-3:30pm; Fri-Sun 8am-4:30pm (Thu closed) Phone: 018-668 8393 * This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal. * Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.
