Sunday, 16th June 2024
Balik Pulau, as the name playfully suggests in Malay, means "back of the island." Drawn by whispers of legendary laksa, our entourage, myself included, embarked on a culinary quest that stretched far beyond the usual tourist haunts of Georgetown. Jawath, our ever-patient guide and driver, found himself steering us north, past landmarks like the ethereal Floating Mosque and the kitschy charms of Miami Beach. The Ship, a beached restaurant at Batu Ferringhi, and Entopia, the butterfly farm, flew by in a blur as we pressed onward, fueled by dreams of spicy noodles.
Craft Batik, a haven for intricate textiles, remained tantalizingly close, a potential reward for good behavior later in the day. But for now, our sights were set on Kim Laksa Balik Pulau. Arriving around 11 am, the question arose – was this an early lunch, or perhaps a decadent third breakfast? Regardless of the label, the laksa lived up to its fame. A revelation, it was. We even stumbled upon a delightful surprise – Chinese Tofu Pudding drizzled with the rich, treacly Gula Melaka. A simple yet addictive combination that had us all licking the bowls clean.
With bellies humming contentedly, we stretched our legs amidst the emerald expanse of an Instagram-worthy paddy field. A nutmeg factory offered a glimpse into the fragrant heart of the spice trade, but neither held the power to truly captivate us. No, the real purpose of our journey lay ahead – the first durian stop at Two Acres.
The scene was one of controlled chaos. The shop buzzed with durian enthusiasts, a pungent perfume hanging heavy in the air. Disappointment nipped at our heels as we discovered our most coveted varieties – the elusive Cap-Peri and the kingly Prawn King – were nowhere to be found. We soldiered on nonetheless, a motley crew of durian aficionados, and devoured a selection of Batu, Red Prawn, and others. Our stomachs, already pleasantly full, stretched to accommodate this unexpected bounty.
But for some in our group, mere contentment wouldn't suffice. They were durian obsessed fanatics, their hunger a relentless beast. So, we left Two Acres and found ourselves drawn, like moths to a flame, to the Durian Tree House. Here, too, fortune seemed to have deserted us. The Cap-Peri remained frustratingly absent. Refusing to be defeated, we purchased two more durians, our bellies now bulging precariously close to bursting.
But the durian odyssey wasn't quite over. A roadside stall, a beacon of hope amidst the endless green, beckoned us with the promise of the Cap-Peri. By 2:30 pm, we had hit a staggering three durian stalls in a mere ninety minutes. A hat trick, one might say, though of a decidedly sticky and pungent variety. Alas, the durian gods continued to play their cruel hand. The fruit, of the Cap-Peri variety deemed unripe by the discerning stall owner, remained frustratingly out of reach. We resigned ourselves to two more durians, a bittersweet finale to our durian adventure.
Balik Pulau had yielded its bounty – laksa that tickled the taste buds, unexpected delights like Gula Melaka-kissed Tofu Pudding, and a relentless pursuit of the perfect durian. It was a journey as memorable for its delicious diversions as for its elusive prize. I guess it will be a very memorable Father’s Day!
#wheeteck #wheetecktravelogue #penangoncemore
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