The Magic Of Bak Kut Teh

A dish with working-class roots and enduring appeal, bak kut teh is simple, unpretentious, and just deeply satisfying as a whole.

Bak kut teh is a dish that is, and will always remain, close to my heart. A lot of that is down to those late nights when my dad would pack my brothers and me into the car to go out for as much bak kut teh as we could stuff down. Then, on the way home, I’d often find myself stretched out in the back seat, slipping blissfully into a food coma, aided by the hypnotic intervals of streetlamp amber that filtered in through the car window.

The question “what’s your favourite food?” is a ubiquitous one. It’s also one I despise, as I could never pick just one to call my favourite. So I often tell people that it more closely resembles a top three, with bak kut teh firmly entrenched as a perennial occupant of that hallowed personal trinity.

The origins of this dish are among the many topics of cultural dispute between Malaysia and Singapore, with each laying spirited claims to its invention. But we can split the difference, at least a little, in this regard, as the two countries enjoy quite different variations of this hearty bowl, with the Hokkien version being the predominant choice here, and the Teochew interpretation the one preferred across the Causeway. But let’s leave Singapore aside for a minute and talk about the one we know and love here.

A popular theory of origin is that it was invented in Port Klang in the early 20th century to supplement the diet and aid the constitution of the coolies toiling away at the docks. Some believe it was brought over from Fujian, China, where it was based on a Quanzhou dish consisting of beef ribs stewed in herbs known as niu pai (“beef steak”).

The name bak kut teh literally translates to “meat bone tea”, and this is due to the similarities the broth bears to herbal tea, rather than it containing any tea leaves at all. Indeed, bak kut teh is, at its core, a dish of pork ribs cooked in a hearty broth of herbs and spices that include star anise, cinnamon, cloves, dong quai, fennel seeds and garlic. The meat stews for hours in the broth, rendering it succulently tender and infused with flavour. You’ll often also find some additional ingredients in there, which can include offal, choy sum, pieces of dried tofu or fried tofu puffs, as well as some varieties of mushroom.

Bak kut teh is frequently served with a side of yau char kway, and one of my favourite things in the world is leaving a few pieces in a bowl of broth and letting them soak for a bit before biting into them. The oiled crunch of the skin, paired with the pillowy softness of the soup-soaked centre, makes for a near-orgasmic gustatory experience. We mustn’t forget, of course, the dipping dish of soy sauce, chopped chilli padi and minced garlic, offered as a condiment in case you feel your meal could use a little more punch.

As far as beverages are concerned, bak kut teh is normally taken with a glass of tea to wash it down. This is because the crisp bitterness of the tea works well to dissolve the ample amount of fat in the dish and provide refreshment to the palate in between bites.

If you’re looking for the best bak kut teh around, the general consensus is that you’ll find it in Klang, which might, in fact, be just about the only reason to go there. It was finally designated a national heritage dish in 2024, but not without opposition from some quarters. This is because, being a pork dish, bak kut teh is generally off limits for the majority of the population here.

However, variants that swap the pork out for chicken or other alternatives go some way towards retaining much of the same deliciousness, and are well worth a try for those who don’t consume pork. Humble, unpretentious and savoury like little else, bak kut teh is an often overlooked gem in the rich pantheon of Malaysian delicacies.

Opening photo: Ceeseven / Wikimedia Commons