Being someone who doesn't do spice and chili very well, I can tell you that when all the dishes on the table are 100% mala, dinner for the day becomes a Dinner with a D.
You know, it's a funny thing.
I can do curries, no problem.
I can do garlic chili sauce McDonalds style and sweet chili sauce Thai style, no problem.
I can even do the satay fish snack on a stick and the tapioca chili snack that used to be sold with ikan bilis and peanut in the same packet (but they don't do that anymore)
However, give me sambal belachan, chili padi Peranakan style, or one bowl of pure, solid Mala broth- and I'm gone.
Straight off gone.
I just can't do it.
And I don't usually do.
But dinner tonight was a gift.
A mystery sender had delivered the gift of Everything Mala for our dinner, and as much as I raised an inquiring eyebrow, I relished in the excitement of what this dinner would bring.
I didn't know what to expect (mystery dinner, mystery sender) and so very pleasant, very amazing surprise it was when the dishes came and I saw that there was not just one very red, very spicy-looking tub of nicely packed shellfish, one of mala chicken but also a third huge tub of Water Boiled Fish.
I've never eaten Water Boiled Fish before.
And until this evening I'd never even heard of it.
But there's Google.
And a fish is a fish is a fish.
The mala chicken looked good.
I knew what it was.
I'd had it a couple of times before.
But this mala chicken wasn't as spicy as I remembered, and in fact, I think the spiciness seemed to be tailored just right so much so that I could taste the flavors of the fried chicken and the spark from the little chili within each bite.
Now I wish I could say I loved the shellfish but I must tell you that these little lobsters scared the heck out of me. Oh, they were cute, yes they were, and each shellfish was fresh enough that none of the shells were broken, all their claws were still intact and every piece perfect in appearance and shape.
But to eat them meant that I had to break open their shells, touch their claws, rip their perfectly intact heads apart from their bodies, and look into their lifeless eyes...
I can do that with prawns.
I couldn't do that with these.
So I left the honors of hammering and mutilation to my dining companion (whom I think found it rather fun) and stayed content with just two- whilst working my way through the tub of Water Boiled Fish, or 水煮鱼 (as it's appropriately called) with my chopsticks, happily picking out the big, chonky pieces of fish swimming in a tubful of very red, very shiny oil.
The fish was good- huge, fresh, sparky in taste, even comforting.
But what I liked about it best was that the oil really wasn't very oily, nor was it even greasy after all.