Now I really have to agree that eating is an educational experience. The walls were covered with printed words of wisdom. In two languages at that! Not a bad idea if you ask me. Think of it as a reflection before, during and after a meal. Certainly makes the meal more meaningful, doesn't it?
Another revelation that dawned upon me recently was the difference in the dai chow scene. I remember those days of sambal belacan kangkung, sweet and sour pork and hotplate tofu. Order these dishes now and chances are you'll either be mistaken for someone who has lived abroad for a very long time or just simply a sentimental person. Ok, maybe not that serious lah. But yes, these days, we are blessed with the creative minds of dai chow cooks and dinners of dishes previously available solely at renowned restaurants (and at a fraction of their prices as well).
I should have taken more pictures of those words. Who knows if one of those phrases touches the cores of our icy cold urban hearts, right? But can you blame this helpless me when a boiling pot of fishhead beehoon bared itself in all its steamy, milky glory and accessorized with a good choice of flavourful ingredients like preserved vegetables, tomatoes and coriander? Or a sexy plate of crispy, salted egg yolks coated fried pork strips sitting invitingly across the table, waiting to be devoured by the hungriest of beasts? The pork looked so golden, it could have easily slotted itself into any Chinese New Year menu by changing its name to something like Golden Nuggets of Happiness or Drops of Fortune God’s Tears of Joy. Move along now, expensive hairy bushes of moss and dried oysters.
The day I heard about this dish called the Flying Fox of the Snow Mountain, I knew I had to try it. There’s something about the names of Chinese dishes that pushes you to the edge of your wildest fantasies. Imagine how funny it would have sounded if this was served in a French restaurant. Le renard de vol de la montagne de neige, anyone? Here, it is simply known as baked salted tilapia fish. Moisture was very much retained, despite the coating of salt. As for the taste, pretty bland. And that’s when the tangy, spicy chopped garlic and chilli condiment kicked in, giving it the much needed zing.
This is one piece of Mongolian meat (no pun intended) that I’ll remember for a long time. There was a nice smoky flavour to it and combined with a dash of pepper and crunchy onion slices, I thought it was delicious. Smooth (not the overly starched kind of smooth) pieces of pork as well. For some historical and cultural reasons, it reminded me of bulgogi.
Served last, the complimentary pickled pineapple slices were nice. When you get caught between the moon and New York City, you fall in love. But in the case of the pineapple, I can’t seem to decide if it was more of an appetizer or a dessert, so I just took the last piece of the Mongolian meat to fall in love.
We had more fun reading the prints than gossiping during dinner. Hey, that's another revelation as well. And am proud of it!
At a reasonable price (RM116 for a table of 6 adults), this is indeed a good peninsular.
Peninsular Restaurant
No. 2A, Jalan Bullion Mewah 8
Taman Bullion Mewah
68100 Kuala Lumpur
Tel: +6012-692 4371 (Lily Tan)
Do click here for the map.
