I had struggled to find like-minded Asians who embrace their racial identity apart from my British cousin. Even after more than a year since I moved to the UK. I didn’t feel the sense of belonging in the British Asian community, particularly in my university.
It was till one serendipitous encounter when I went to Roti King — arguably the best Malaysian Restaurant in London for the first time. After taking a tube ride to Euston, it took only a few minutes of walking before I saw an old-fashioned white restaurant sign with dull red fonts, “Euston Chinese Restaurant”.
That can’t be it… this looks like a generic white-washed Chinese restaurant in every town. I thought while trying to locate Roti King.
Then, I saw a relatively long queue stemming from a narrow staircase to the restaurant directly below the hideous sign. And, there’s Roti King. At this moment, I hadn’t gone back to Malaysia for a year so I just couldn’t wait to have a delicious Malaysian meal.
After queuing for while, as I was prepared to have a table-for-one meal, I was seated with an interracial couple of a white English man and an English woman of Chinese descent.
I knew I wasn’t going to go through the menu as I have set my mind on the Roti Canai. Ever since Eater made a video about Roti King, the Malaysians’ knack for all-carbs comfort food grew in me.
Let’s stick to the classics! I shouted in my mind.
Immediately, I ordered their signature Roti Canai and the Mee Goreng Mamak. I wasn’t going to be adventurous with my choices as I had been craving for Mamak style Malaysian food — which is available in the abundance of Muslim Indian or Mamak shops that usually operate 24/7 in Malaysia.
I had missed non-Chinese Malaysian food throughout my British experience. As much as I enjoy Chinese dishes — they are what I eat growing up, it was way easier to access to amazing Chinese food in London compared to Malaysian food. Up till then, I had tried a few Malaysian restaurants which are operated by Malaysian Chinese. While they make amazing Chinese food, the dishes which have more of Malay and Indian influences fail to hit the spot. There was a Malaysian restaurant which was close to where I live in Southampton. I recounted the first time I tried the Beef Ho Fun or Wat Tan Hor and left impressed. But, when we decided to try the Nasi Lemak, it was just way too “Chinese”.
I had stopped eating Roti Canai for years as it’s a breakfast dish — and it’s not a very healthy breakfast, to say the least. Nevertheless, the peculiarity in tearing the Roti apart with bare hands and dipping the torn up pieces in the Dhal curry, while might appear as a rudimentary way of eating, epitomises the true Malaysian experience. It made me forget about the fact I paid five quid for two pieces, which is relatively cheap in London. But, we Malaysians know how much do we usually pay for two pieces of Roti Canai.
It was as good as the last Roti Canai I had in a Mamak stall. The flaky yet crispy dough paired with the grainy Dhal curry which is, though a protein-less lentil curry, not any less flavourful than the other curries. These thoughts went through my mind while I was savouring my first bite.
Meanwhile, when I looked across the table, the interracial couple ordered more than Roti Canai. They ordered some other dishes. I can’t help but noticed one of the more famous vegetable dishes in Malaysia, Kangkung Belacan. I was surprised with their choice as it’s definitely not a dish for amateur Malaysian food eaters.
We started talking and it goes without saying that we naturally turned our conversation to a discussion about the tiny things only we could understand growing up in an Asian household. In that instance, the unappetising and piquant yet tasty kangkung belacan lit up a very interesting conversation about the mentality Asian kids tend to have.
“I used to hate this as a kid, it smells, but now that’s all I really want to eat,” the woman said referring to the kangkung belacan.
The casual conversation reflects on the mentality of many Asian kids share, especially those who grew up as minorities. We would hate every parts of our culture. Our language, our food, at times our racial appearance. And who could blame us? When we view our own culture through the Western lens, through the facile generalisation of Asian culture, it always appear to be conservative and passé. However, in the most contradictory sense, that conversation also accentuates the progression some of us go through moving into adulthood. Despite the rejection of the culture, some of us has found a way to embrace of our racial and cultural identity.
Recalling the experiences I had with some of the British born Chinese in my university, I was surprised at the disparity in our mentalities of embracing the Chinese culture. Recalling my encounters with the British Asian community through ABACUS, I thought our experiences growing up would be quite similar so that could assuage my fears of feeling foreign in the UK. ABACUS is a society for British Chinese or British Asian, or in an Englishman’s words — the Oriental. After all, I’m not the purest of Chinese so I thought it would be a positive experience meeting the British Asian community.
Was I so wrong… I’ve come to notice that I have very little in common with those I’ve met in the society. The innocuous stereotypical racist jokes, which is colloquial among Malaysians, were almost prohibited in the ABACUS social circles. After a while, I found it difficult to relate to them. Relating to their small talks, relating to how they keep their social circles exclusive, relating to their music of interest — K-Pop. Joining a Kpop party with ABACUS was the final nail in the coffin and I stopped going to their events.
I have nothing against K-Pop or fans of K-Pop. However, my rejection towards the facile generalisation of “all Asians love K-Pop” definitely played a part in my decision to stop taking part in the society. Nevertheless, it was emblematic of my difficulties in fitting into the British Asian community. It was symbolic to the struggle I found in finding like-minded Asian community who embraces its racial identity. That is, till this one memorable encounter.
It’s this sort of conversation which in turn inspires me to go out there look for like-minded people. There are more than just this one pleasant encounter that spoke true to my journey in finding my own identity. But, the one that involved salivating for a dish that smells will always be one of the most memorable ones. It is the turning point when I realised there are like-minded people out there in the UK. And, it is one of the turning points in my life which prompted me to start asking myself what does it mean to be a Chinese, a Malaysian, an Asian.
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