Madam Tang Sew Mooi picks up a dough nugget and begins kneading it vigorously on the steel table. She flattens it into an even oblong, makes a small depression in the centre with her left thumb, fills it with red bean paste, then pinches and twists the edges to seal one end. She lays it down on its vertical length, rolls the other end into a sharp point and deposits the sau bao on a mahjong paper
square. Sau bao is a bun eaten at birthdays and is one of an extensive repertoire of traditional Chinese cakes and pastries, integral to festive occasions like Chinese New Year, that Madam Tang and her husband Beh Ban Ling who both celebrate their 61st birthday this year produce from their home. Their ‘factory’ occupies the kitchen at the back of the house plus the entire side porch. It’s a far cry from their humble beginnings 30 years ago, when “I would prop up an umbrella for shade, mix the batter by hand, steam the cakes in a traditional bamboo basket all in a cramped space in the back lane of our house,” recalls Madam Tang. She picked up the skill by observing other cake makers in the neighbourhood. It was just how “people back then” learnt, she says with a dismissive shrug. Traditionally, these birthday buns are shaped like Chinese peaches hence they are also known as sau thoe (longevity peaches) to symbolise immortality. The outer layer is sprayed with edible pink dye and then painted with motifs or pictographs of longevity, luck, prosperity and happiness. The texture is soft and spongy, and the filling must be sweet Malaysian palates are partial to lotus seed and red bean paste because “everyone wishes to have sweet outcomes in life,” says Beh. The couple also receives a fair amount of orders for sau bao during Chinese New Year, as some enjoy eating the buns on the seventh day, which is yen yet (people’s day) and signifies everyone’s birthday. Madam Tang can also come up with different shapes for sau bao. A pair of scissors creates indents that resemble fish scales. The teeth of a comb is used to create veins in a leaf. A quick twist and turn and you get a pillow. Beh quips, “Kou cham, moe yau (high pillow, no worries) each shape represents a desirable attribute or outcome. When we make sau bao, we like to experiment. What shape shall we make today? We become children again, playing with dough.”
After shaping, the buns are cooked in a giant steamer and cooled briefly. Then comes the motif-adding, Beh’s forte. He dips a Chinese paintbrush in edible green ink and, like a master calligrapher, moves his rock-steady hand swiftly across the surface of the steaming bun. He completes the final stroke and reads out the writing theatrically, “Cheong meng pak sui!” (May you live to 100 years). Auspicious tidings indeed, for the coming year. Aneka Kuih Teo Chew 25 Jalan 56, Kepong Baru, KL Tel +603 6277 3379/+6012 333 382/ +6012 238 3382
Note Place orders at least three days in advance; during festive seasons, at least a week’s notice is required
Text Alexandra Wong
