Was Malaysian Food Always Unhealthy? Here’s What You Need To Know

In a calorie-conscious age, it’s crucial to remember that Malaysian cuisine is just as rich in history as it is in flavour.

As we enter an era governed by avocado toast and protein powder, our local dishes seem to have fallen out of favour, dismissed as too heavy and unfit for the age of clean eating. By today’s standards, Malaysian food is unhealthy. Even with an early morning pilates class, an oily plate of noodles seems like overkill. It becomes more of an overt indulgence than an earned cheat meal.

Many of the most well-known dishes hardly fit the healthy standard—even drinks. Even looking at a glass of sirap bandung could tell you that. However, could the criticism of Malaysian cuisine simply be the sign of the times? 

To better understand the history of the nation’s food, it requires rewinding back to colonial Malaya. It was a different time in every sense of the word. The lifestyles many Malayans led were more laborious. Lives were built around supplying half of the world’s tin and rubber, not filling in excel spreadsheets.

A day in the life of colonial Malaya

In colonial Malaya, it seemed as though life never stopped. Yet, there was always food to fuel the rubber tappers, tin miners, and Malay villagers in the kampung. The dawn was marked with roadside kopi sellers jolting labourers awake and packets of nasi lemak handed to passing workers. Breakfast had to taste sharp. With the bitterness of coffee and denseness of carbohydrates, it came together as energising concoction. Fuel for the fields.

Far from the rice fields and sun-beaten rubber estates were the colonial bungalows inhabited by British officials. For them, their morning began with early iterations of ‘East meets West’ dishes. Some mornings, Hainanese cooks would prepare eggs and toast with a healthy spread of marmite. On the side, a cup of Milo and Jacob’s cream crackers to remind the British of home. 

As noon approaches, workers pause in the tin mines for a simple meal of rice and salted fish. A quick spike in sodium levels keep them going for the rest of the evening. Somewhere on the rice fields, the nasi lemak packed from the morning is now thoroughly infused with the fragrance of pandan and banana leaves. For estate workers, rice gruel was a staple. Light and watery to keep hydrated.

By nightfall, workers dispersed to one of three spots: the kopitiam, mamak or a cluster of hawker stalls. Sound familiar? Our nation’s love for third places to recharge and reconnect seems to trace back to even a time that feels so distant. You’d find all of our same local favourites: char kway teow, roti canai, mee goreng mamak. Quick and cheap, but extremely rewarding after an unrelenting day’s worth of work.

Is there truth in today’s criticism?

Now given our history lesson, the general takeaway is not that the science is wrong. Malaysian food can be sodium-heavy, high in calories, and carbohydrate-loaded. In excess, this is certainly unhealthy. Yet, the blame should be shifted away from the nature of our cuisine itself but assessed in tandem with the current state of our society. Malayan citizens didn’t have the luxury of ordering ‘regular’ or ‘large’ meals, but instead relied on produce that was readily available. That often meant smaller portions than you’d like. 

Small portions aside, the composition of our favourite dishes were significantly less calorie dense than they are now. For starters, meats were far more of a luxury. Nowadays, the mamak has an extensive selection of protein-packed lauk to choose from, meat is always a guarantee. Before, lamb and beef were saved for pay days and celebrations. Advances in farming, economy, and accessibility meant our food was allowed to get richer (and arguably, more delicious).

It doesn’t stop there. We can thank the generations before for developing the importance of third places in Malaysian food culture. It represents the power of how these community hubs, while centered around food, have always brought the country together. After hours from the gritty tin mines or creaky boats off the dockside, time seemed to slow down momentarily. The mamaks and kopitiams were getaways from the demanding lives so many Malayans led. In essence, these third places still serve the same purpose. A centre of respite and cultural connection. That doesn’t sound so bad, does it? 

To dismiss Malaysia’s complex history of cooking and food as unhealthy or junk is to erase everything our ancestors have done. Our food is the product of the working-class that built a society and contributed to the world. The working-class that came together from the kampungs, China, India, and beyond to survive with their shared love for food. So the next time you feel guilty sitting down for a plate of mee goreng, remember that maybe it’s our lifestyles that need changing, not our food.

Opening image: Magnific|Magnific