Tucked among the verdant trees and lush green fields along Jalan PJU 7/3 in Mutiara Damansara, is a nondescript red food truck.
Nothing special about it, other than the fact that the owners, Hasbullah Abdul Rahman, 48, and his wife Faridatul Akmar Mohd Derus, 45, serve possibly some of the most mouth-watering traditional Malay fare this side of Kentucky.
And at insane prices, too, especially these days, with the cost of essential ingredients skyrocketing.
The pair have been operating from the same spot for three years now, offering a smorgasbord of tasty, honest, comfort food that money can buy.
While Faridatul – Umi to her regulars – runs the till, the man who works the magic with his wok is Hasbullah.
Hasbullah is a 27-year veteran with the Kuala Lumpur City Hall’s Traffic Management Division (engineering department).
Five days a week, he fires up the eight burners in the family kitchen in Bandar Baru Selayang after his shift ends at 7am. Weekends are focused on the catering side of their business.
By 8am, spatulas, spices and siakap are flying hard and fast, and by noon, the family’s sidewalk al fresco makan place is up and running.
Hasbullah usually prepares 50 different dishes daily, and the trays occupy three large tables. I counted four to five different types of masak lemak cili padi, and roughly 10 different types of gulai. Not too shabby for a self-taught cook.
“He loves to cook. I think he learnt by watching his grandmother in the kitchen,” said Umi. She added that they never sell leftovers the next day.
“Customers will know,” Hasbullah said quietly.
“We prepare our food here as we would at home,” chimed Umi.
Testament to the couple’s commitment to never scrimping on ingredients is the long line of regulars who drop by daily.
“The line usually starts at 11.30am. Sometimes, when we arrive, our customers would help set up tables and chairs for us,” said Umi.
Eighty per cent of their clientele is from the area and is made up of a nice cross-section of Malaysiana – young execs, blue collar, and office workers, and e-hailing riders.
As we chatted, a group of young Chinese execs walked past with their tapau-ed food and waved to Umi.
“Dia ni suka makan petai,” she said with a laugh. I asked the young man what he thought of the food.
“Whoahh…” and a thumbs up was all he could muster.
Aside from being tasty, the food is incredibly cheap. My meal of rice, 4 pieces of prawns, a piece of ayam goreng berempah, two different types of sambal belacan, a large ladle of daging goreng kunyit and a glass of iced Nescafe costs a grand total of RM8.
Rice, be it separuh, or a hearty molehill, is the same – RM1. A piece of fried chicken that now sells for RM4.50 a pop at your neighbourhood mamak, is just RM3 at Umi’s place. A generous portion of udang galah will cost you RM5. Drinks with condensed milk are RM2 each, when you would pay upwards of RM3 at other places.
They used to have a brick-and-mortar shop, but the pandemic put paid to that.
“This is more cost-beneficial. It helps us manage our costs, and that keeps our prices low.
“I mean, we all know how hard things are these days. We do what we can to help out, where we can. Alhamdulillah, things seem to be working out,” said Umi, an accountant by training.
“I’ve been coming here for the last four months and I pile on the food like there’s no tomorrow, but I’ve never, ever hit RM10,” said customer Hisham Abd Latif, 26.
He and his friends Hakimi Kassim, 24, and
Aizat Jamal, 31, would walk down from their office in nearby Neo Damansara and spend their lunch break at Umi’s.
“The hard part is hiking up the slope back to the office, after tucking in,” laughed Aizat.