Dodol And The Thought That Counts

David, my good friend, made a quick trip back to KL just before the Chinese New Year. He was there for a week due to personal reasons and came back on the 1^st day of Chinese New Year. In between his mad rush from KL to Sitiawan, Sitiawan to KL, then to Kluang and back to KL, he remembered to get me one of my favourite foods among the long list of things he have to buy and bring back for his wife and kids. On the way back from Kluang, he dropped into Malacca and bought me some Dodol. I did not ask him to buy any Dodol but somehow in between one of our previous conversation, he remembered.

Seeing the Dodol bought back memory of my childhood days. I lived in a neighbourhood that is multicultural. I had Indians, Ceylonese (Sri Lankan), Portuguese, Eurasian, Malays, Chinese of different dialect (Hiananese, Hakka, Cantonese, Hock Chiew and Hokkien) and Sikh as my neighbours. It was here I was exposed to different cultures, traditions, religions and foods. The neighbours were so tolerant of each others. Every festivity we were invited to our neighbour place or our neighbour would bring and share their foods with us. One thing that always sticked in my mind was if my neighbour were to bring us food during the festive time, we would return the containers or trays with sugar in it. It is roughly a small bowl or a cup of sugar. It was an unwritten rule and it is uncourteous to return the containers or trays empty. Today, I am not sure whether such practice is continued.

Dodol was first introduced to me by my classmate’s mother, who lived 5 houses down where we lived. His Mum is a Chinese given away to a Malay family when she was little. She is a kind hearted and generous lady and always looking out for us kids when we play around her place. When she served us Dodol for the first time, I was afraid to taste it because of it darkish brown colour and it gluey texture. Off course, my Malay classmate laughed and teased us with large chunk of Dodol in his mouth. In between his munching, he would say “Sedap, Sedap”. My friend’s Mum was patience to explain what it was made off and even going to the extent of telling us the process and how it was made. After the enlightening talk, I tried it. One bite and one gulp, the rest is history, I was hooked. I always remember the sensation taste and the nice durian smell.

The Dodol, David bought back cannot match the taste and smell I remembered a long time ago. There was no durian taste or smell at all. The texture was difference, I guess there were more flour in it and it was so disappointing. I guess in the end it was the thought that counts.