Banana leaf rice at Madurai Muniyandi Villas in Brickfields
 |
| Image credit: Madurai Muniyandi Villas |
I had tried a banana leaf meal once before, back in London. It was a special set menu offered at a Keralan restaurant to celebrate the Hindu festival of Vishu. I remembered dainty little piles of vegetarian food artfully arranged on a small rectangle of leaf. What I saw on the Instagram reel, however, was a meat feast of vast proportions covering an entire table - served every day of the week, not just on special occasions.
I was more than curious to find out the connection between that Keralan meal in London and this banana leaf restaurant in KL.
From thali to banana leaf rice
The banana leaf meal, I discovered, is a version of the 'thali'. Thalis are India’s answer to a tasting platter: rice or bread (depending on where you are) with many accompaniments like dal, other vegetables, soups, pickles, chutneys, raitas, poppadoms and desserts, all arranged on a round metal plate as an individual meal. Thalis are usually vegetarian, and people usually have them at important events like weddings and religious festivals - though restaurants (and homes) also serve them as everyday fare.
In the thalis of South India and Sri Lanka, banana leaves often replace plates. This style of dining has spread to other parts of the world through migration - but in Malaysia, it's at a whole new level. 'Banana leaf rice', as it's called here, is so popular - across different communities - that it's part of Malaysia's culinary identity.
Adapted for local tastes, banana leaf rice has many protein options, like chicken, mutton, fish, squid and egg. There's another local twist: 'Thiruvilla Sapadu', which Madurai Muniyandi Villas specialises in. It's a term I've seen a lot online, referring to a heartier, more lavish style of banana leaf rice. The portions can be big enough for several people to share, and served on whole banana leaves. As far as I can tell, Thiruvilla Sapadu is a uniquely Malaysian (and Singaporean) thing. It means 'festival meal' in Malaysian Tamil - though that only seems to refer to the style of food, since it's available year-round.
Madurai Muniyandi Villas
Madurai Muniyandi Villas sits in the heart of Brickfields, KL's official Little India (there's another Little India but that's a story for another day). You'll find it on the first floor of the Kompleks Tun Sambanthan food court.
 |
| Brickfields |
It's a simple place: tiled floors, laminated picnic-style tables, a basic kitchen and a long sink to wash your hands. In one corner, we saw a pile of banana leaves, and in another, a vat of yellow 'badam doodh', a traditional Indian drink made of almonds, milk, saffron and cardamom. Update: badam milk is no longer on the menu. After seating us, the waiter put a white plastic sheet over our table and laid down two big banana leaves, which nearly covered the entire surface.
As we perused the menu, a lady came by our table selling Indian street snacks. Noelle - who is Malaysian - explained that the vendor didn't work for the restaurant or food court, but had permission to come in and sell to customers. It's a common practice in Malaysia, and isn't limited to food.
I was intrigued by the different snacks - all variations on a deep-fried dough puff called 'puri', each with a different filling. We ended up buying the 'dahi puri' - eight for ten Malaysian ringgit (RM) or £1.70 - because of course we needed an appetiser before the feast! Dahi puri are filled with potatoes, chutneys, yoghurt and sev, small pieces of crunchy noodles. Our's came with a tangy coriander-mint water called 'theeka pani' - which isn't actually supposed to go with them. None the wiser, we poured it in and popped the little morsels into our mouths. They were straight-up flavour bombs, bursting with tastes and textures.
We ordered our meal while the puri was being prepped, choosing 'Set B: 2-3 Pax' (RM71) from the chicken and mutton section of the menu. It came with three portions of basmati rice, three portions of cucumber carrot raita (now replaced with a 'vegetable dish'), a sharing portion of chicken and mutton, and three drinks. We could choose to have the meats cooked together or separately, and select one of five 'flavours' (some were actually methods of cooking). We got the mixed meat option, cooked 'perattal' style. Perattal (also spelled 'peratal') is a curry that's simmered down until it's thick and nearly dry.
We also ordered the Brinjal Sambal (RM15). 'Brinjal' is the Indian English term for 'aubergine' or 'eggplant', and 'sambal' is a chilli paste with many variations, which is found throughout Southeast Asia.
Our drinks came out first. We had a choice of Sirap Ice or Limau Ice (normally you see 'ice' written as 'ais', which is Malay). Sirap ais is bright pink and made from rose syrup. Limau ais is Malaysian lemonade with calamansi lime, sugar and water; we got this, and it was deliciously zingy. Update: Limau ais is no longer on the menu. You can, however, get a cold 'Teh O Limau', which is limau ais with black tea, but it's not included with the set menu.
We didn't have to wait long for the food. The style of service was as I remembered - each item ladled onto the leaves in sequence, building up the meal layer by layer. First the rice, then the raita, then the meat, then the aubergine. (I don't have a photo with the aubergine, unfortunately.)
I'm no stranger to communal dining but this was next level. We were all sharing one gigantic 'plate', with each pile of food blending into the next, and it was a gloriously messy experience. I don't do messy, so it was a surprise to me that I should feel this way. I even considered using my hands, as you're supposed to, but I didn't want to get that communal. It would probably have elevated my experience though, and I think next time I'll give it a go.
The curry was seriously good and only mildly spicy, which was ideal for me. The sauce was dark and rich and packed with concentrated flavour; I could have just eaten that with rice! I loved the chicken, which was tender and tasty, and although I'm not a huge fan of mutton, it was much better than I expected.
Ashir - who is from Pakistan - said that in South Asia, 'mutton' means 'goat meat', and we wondered if that was the case here. If so, then it really exceeded my expectations, since I have always thought of goat meat as dry and stringy. I later read that Malaysians often use the word 'mutton' to describe both goat and sheep meat, and that these meats are used interchangeably in many Malaysian dishes.
The aubergine was fine but didn't stand out for me - probably because it was incredibly spicy and probably destroyed a few taste buds!
There are many customs associated with banana leaf meals, many of which have disappeared with localisation. One that hasn't is the practice of folding the leaf towards you after eating to indicate satisfaction with the meal. (You only fold it away from you to express your condolences at a funeral - or dissatisfaction with the meal, although that's contentious.) Not being aware of this practice at the time, I didn't do it, nor did I notice if other diners were doing it - something to watch out for next time!
Whenever that next time is, I'd love to try the seafood set, with crab, prawns and squid - and bring more people, so we can go crazy with the portions, like in the videos. I'd also like to try the 'varuval' option, which is mentioned a lot online. Varuval is an even drier style of curry than what we had, and spicier too - though apparently you can request less heat for any of the dishes, since everything is cooked to order.
Update: I asked Madurai Muniyandi Villas for their latest menu (see below) - and unbelievably, prices haven't changed since our visit. That's in stark contrast to the significant increases I've seen at many restaurants. In fact, the menu hasn’t changed much at all - just fewer fish and prawn dishes, and a new poppadom option.
Comments
Post a Comment