Treat of the Real
Thing
Literally translated from Tamil,
'otthu kadai' that quaint little wooden roadside shop specking the
streets of George Town means "small shop".
The 'otthu kadai' is a
pretty interesting emporium tiny, compact and mottled with a collection
of different things. Each of these small convenience shops is a veritable
miniature open-air mart selling an exhaustive range of items in an incredibly
confined space.
Bananas, baby nipples,
soft drinks, transistor radios, hair shampoo, coconut oil, chewing gum, colour
pencils and cigarettes are just a few of the items in the amazing inventory
crammed into each stall.
One 'otthu kadai' operator
in the heart of George Town's Little India enclave, along the old Market
Street artery, has brought a whiff of the real thing in this peculiar trade.
Sitting next to his wares
- tomato sauce bottles, aspirins, pocket notebooks, ribbons, razors, et al
Liaquat Ali Khan sells 'paan'.
Also known as 'bidda' in Tamil,
the 'paan' is a juicy concoction of titbits inside a carefully folded betel
leaf, and is immensely popular among Indians.
On the Indian subcontinent,
folks everywhere can be seen chewing on the leaf crammed with ingredients,
and spitting out the red juice that then builds in the mouth.
Said to be a good laxative
and with mildly addictive qualities, the 'paan' is one of those special Indian
munchies, best taken after meals.
Liaquat bought the stall
business in Februaray 2001, and picked up the skill of making a paan from
a Bangladeshi.
"As far as I know, I'm
the only one making 'paan' in Penang," he says proudly.
Incidentally, the betel
leaf in Malay is called 'Pinang', the very word Penang derives its name from.
There are several varieties of
the 'paan' being made in Liaquat's little stall, each costing between RM
1.00 and RM 2.00.
The most basic and
least expensive kind costing only a ringgit comprises mainly local
condiments like fennel seeds, ginger flakes, dates, cherry, gambir paste,
betelnut, nutmeg and honey. If such a list leaves your taste buds tingling
with curiosity, know that these are only the essentials.
The ingredients are whipped
together on the betel leaf before it is carefully folded up and pinned neatly
with a clove.
The 'paan' variety costing
RM 1.30 includes additional stuff like black raisins, with shavings of almond
and cashew nut, and a smacking glob of the enchantingly sweet 'gulken' -
a beautiful paste of rose petals marinated in honey.
The RM 1.50 'paan' is even
bigger, with the extra thinly-ground coconut shreds and dates.
Finally, the giant whopping RM
2.00 version has all the above ingredients with a dose of the following
condiments, all specially brought, I was told, from India: saffron-blended
chutney, menthol, a special vegetable and fruit powder assortment called
'Heera Paan Mix', a perfumed mixture of rose leaves called 'Meetha Gulab'
and the Rajsagar sweet paste - all from exotic places like Hyderabad, Delhi
and Ajmer.
And for those with a penchant
for something strong, more stimulating, something that packs a good wallop,
there is the 'Jerdha Paan' betel leaf with tobacco.
This version comes with
light flavourings like veggie-fruit powder and some mild sweetener, and costs
only RM 1.00 or RM 1.30, depending how much extra seasoning you would like.
Liaquat's 'paan' is very
uniquely Penang, he insists, because he puts certain ingredients that are
not used elsewhere either in India or any other place in the world.
Liaquat adds coconut flakes
and nutmegs to his 'paan'. The sweet, succulent taste of nutmeg is very unique
to Penang where the crop is produced in different varieties and large volumes
every year.
"I have all kinds of people
coming to taste my 'paan'," Liaquat says.
While many of his customers
comprise Bangladeshi workers and local Indians plying the Little India area,
he also gets tourists wanting to taste his fare.
Tourist guides, especially,
love bringing their flocks to his stall where visitors gape with curiosity
as Liaquat's nimble fingers whip the many ingredients onto each leaf.
"Once, a visitor from London
who was staying in Penang, came to me everyday till the day he left," he
remembers.
Liaquat used to work as
a clerk in a shipping company before dabbling in various petty trades, including
selling Islamic books. When he was given the opportunity to buy the 'otthu
kadai' stall and manage his own business in the heart of George Town's famous
tourist and cultural enclave, he grabbed the chance.
But his work is very much
an endangered trade. The number of 'otthu kadai' operators has dwindled over
the decades. Youngsters today are not as keen as the earlier generations
to operate a roadside stall.
The origin of the 'otthu
kadai' is an interesting story in itself. The stall concept was derived from
the 'petti kadai' (literally, "box shop") trade in Tamil Nadu, India. The
'petti kadai' was so called because the small portable wooden stall, meant
to sell 'paan' and plain betel leaves on the roadside, looked exactly like
a box and could be folded up and removed at the end of the day's trade.
Decades after the Indians
first brought the 'petti kadai' to Penang in the nineteenth century, the
stall gradually evolved. Aspirins, batteries and water pistols were added
to a bizarre, growing list of items that were sold along with betel leaves.
In the course of time,
however, the betel leaf got left aside, and over the last few decades, there
has not been a single stall offering 'paan' or 'bidda'.
But today, Liaquat the
'otthu kadai' operator is a rare breed, bringing back to the roadside stall
the product with which it all first began the 'paan', that charming
little juicy concoction inside the old Pinang leaf.
Written by
Himanshu Bhatt |