On the ‘kaya trail’ in Miri

Soft bread with thick kaya and butter at WZT.

“Are you a kaya addict?” asked a friend at the supermarket.
I looked at the trolley she was pushing and noticed a few brands of kaya products in it.
Then she said: “I’m going to make some kaya puffs for a church meeting this week.”
Was this a surprise? Not really. As I remember, this friend of mine normally makes a lot of kaya snacks — buns, puffs, serimukua and pulut panggang (served with kaya).
Few things surprise me but admittedly, being spurred to a kaya-searching adventure in Miri by the chance meeting with this particular friend at the supermarket had taken me somewhat aback.
Kaya-hunting?  Sounds like a quaint idea but that was what a friend and I did recently — with sweet results.

Most of us know what Kaya is — that sweet gluey coconut jam few of us could afford during our childhood. If our mothers could make kaya from scratch, we were in for a treat. Indeed, kaya is that sweet kiss of love from a hardworking mum.
This sweet eggy coconut creamy concoction has given many gourmets, food consultants, menu developers, innovators and food enthusiasts eternal love and longings, heartaches, seizures, nostalgia, high blood pressure and gastronomical frenzies.
I have been in love with kaya since my mother begged our Malay neighbour (kakak) to teach her how to make kaya over a small charcoal stove in our wooden kitchen.
Mum squeezed the coconut milk from scratch, using the one dollar wrought iron coconut scraper. While kakak helped her beat 10 eggs into a bowl, she slowly got the charcoal fire going, then squeezed some green juice out of pandan leaves in to a bowl.
We kids were full of expectations as we watched the two of them sitting on low stools, helping each other to stir the ‘kaya in the making’ over the slow charcoal fire. We waited in keenest anticipation.
In those days, kaya was ‘steamed to perfection’ after the mixture was first cooked over a slow fire until it became a lovely smooth golden brown.
Those were the days before Electrical Appliances or BEA came into the market, and of course prior to the Thermomix (BTT).
The next morning, we had steamed bread with our first home-made kaya and Golden Churn butter. It was a very memorable breakfast.
Mum was over the moon. And why not? She had succeeded in making her family the first ever bowl of kaya for breakfast.

Kaya and butter on bread at Liang Pu Char, Piasau Garden.

Kaya-searching quest
In my recent ‘kaya-searching’ quest in Miri, I managed to convince a good friend, Lesley Linggod, an Australian expat, to join me. What I had in mind was seeking out as many Hainan coffeeshops serving kaya and toast as possible.
We started with a coffeeshop in Piasau. And what a coincidence! Piasau means coconut in the local dialect while kaya is mainly made from coconut milk.
The coffeeshop — Liang Cha Pu — is owned by two Hainanese brothers who are following in the footsteps of their father and grandfather. The siblings are carrying on the family legacy of operating one of the best kopi tiam in Miri.
During our initial search, we planned to call at a couple of coffeshops. We had our first breakfast at Liang Cha Pu at 7.30am. We ordered the Heritage Hainan Breakfast Package — two cups of Hainan coffee (with condensed milk), two eggs (one each) half boiled, and two sandwiches (two slices of toasted bread with lots of butter and kaya).
It was a special three item combination well known from Singapore and Hong Kong to Indonesia and even Australia now. And not surprisingly, patrons of any local Hainan coffee shop will order this special breakfast set.
However, we were told, to our disappointment, that the kaya was not made by the two brothers and the bread was purchased from a bread shop.
We were also told that in this 21st century, toasting bread over a charcoal stove was fast becoming a thing of the past, if it not already! Fifty loaves could be easily consumed at this kopi tiam on a good morning. So it appears a faster way of baking is necessary.
Anyway, it was a wonderful ‘kaya’ breakfast over a nice chat. Next, we went to WZT, another Hainan coffeeshop in the middle of Miri city.
There, we ordered a slice each of their famous WZT bread, spread, I must say, liberally with green pandan kaya and butter.
The bread is reputedly the best in town. I like the thick crusty outsides as well as the soft insides. One slice is actually already too much for most womenfolk.
Anyway, it was a good ‘second’ breakfast under cool shady trees outside the coffeeshop among a happy morning crowd.
“I like my toast crispy and aromatic with butter and kaya,” Lesley said as she picked up an almost two inch thick slice of bread.
On the other hand, I savoured the bread slowly and between bites, sipped the thick local coffee which only the Hainanese can brew to perfection. It was kaya and toast heaven!
By our third destination, the Hainan Café at the Waterfront, we were already feeling sluggish and almost overdosed with sugar.
But we were delighted by the menu of this kopi tiam which is decorated with beautiful wall photos and cute little displays. As the lunch crowd was not there yet, we had the whole place to ourselves.
The kaya toast came out just right — crispy, spread with nicely textured kaya.

Crispy toasts with kaya and butter.

Second lap
The second lap of our search on another day took us to Lutong on a balmy morning.
With tips from a Hainanese friend, we found three Hainan coffeeshops there.
Hup Lee is family owned and operated by three different people. The lady operator told us their history went back as far as before the Second World War when their fathers came to Sarawak ahead of the Japanese attacks on China and Hainan Island.
This was known as the Southern Migration of the Hainanese from Hainan Island. Without this push factor, Malaysia and its neighbours would not be having Hainan chicken chop, Hainan coffeeshop and Hainan chicken rice.
“The Southern Migration was a flight of desperation sparked by war. Our parents suffered a lot as they came in slow wooden boats — some propelled only by wind. But we were able to create a niche in the local economy and build up our businesses,” she explained.
The lady operator and her mother-in-law have always made their own kaya but just enough to sell to others. In this way, they kept their operating costs lower.
The towkay himself makes the ever popular curry puffs, using authentic curry powder and curry leaves.
The history of Lutong can be said to be parallel with that of Hainan coffeeshops. The second and third generations of these Hainanese coffeeshop operators continue to uphold the ethics of hard work and perseverance of their pioneering forefathers.
Lutong grew from an outpost of atap stalls to concrete shops today. And the coffeeshop customers have changed from British and foreign expats working for Shell to locals who have worked on the land and in the oil and gas industry.
A new group of customers have also appeared — migrant workers from Indonesia and the ulu who love kaya and toast.
The other coffeeshop across the road is owned by a jovial towkay who has lots of jokes and stories to tell.
Because he doesn’t have enough helpers in the shop, he has rented out stalls to an Iban woman for selling chicken rice, a Chinese man for selling noodles and two others. This two-lot coffeeshop is doing brisk business.
“We have a tsunami of customers at certain hours,” the towkay quipped.
Between serving customers he would drop by our table to share jokes and his happy outlook at life.

Kaya on toast at Hainan Café.

Meaning of kaya
The word kaya actually means ‘rich’ in Bahasa Malaysia. There is also an Indian word — khoya or koya — meaning Indian milk custard used as a base for sweet desserts.
Could kaya have come from the same origin? After all, it resembles the custard-like Koya. Furthermore, kaya is known as sangkhaya in Thailand. There are two types — the thicker custard-like and the more watery versions.
Kaya lovers need not fear if they cannot make their own stuff as they can always buy from the local bakeries and supermarkets.
The most famous kaya is from Yeo’s — a staple used by schools, coffeeshops, and hotels.
There are other brands as well. The newest, exported by Singapore to Korea, Vietnam, Japan and China, is the Sing Kee Kaya House product, a higher-end item in the RM30 price range and claimed to be organically produced.
The company, Sing Kee, was founded in 1920 in Singapore and Sing Kee Kaya was established in 1985. Their bottled kaya comes mainly in two versions — nyonya and Hainan.
Raymond Ting, a Sarawak businessman, has been marketing Sing Kee Kaya House products in Perth, East Asia as well as locally.
This brand is said to be similar to the one used in Kuching, Johor Bahru and Miri. It will definitely sell well among Asian communities.
So it’s actually quite easy to find some kind of kaya around — pandan flavoured, coffee flavoured, original or otherwise.
In countries where coconuts are grown, it’s possible to find a wide range of kaya — from homemade to factory produced. So in Malaysia and countries with a large Chinese community, one can meet friends for kaya and toast, washed down with well brewed coffee.
During a recent reunion, my friend, B Kay, who lived in Sibu in the 60’s and later moved back to England, commented: “Nothing reminds me of my childhood more than kaya and toast.”
Indeed, let us meet up at a kopi tiam or your breakfast table for kaya and toast.



Reported By: Chang Yi





Note: Newspaper cut from The Borneo Post who has the copy right for the above article.