Road trip Day 4 -- the first bit.

On our second visit to Sibu, in March 2019, when the Big OE was in its infancy, we tried and enjoyed a dish called ding bian hu, which came from a venerable old shop called Chop Hing Huong.

We were all up for sampling it again on our third visit to Sibu, in November 2022, but it was a Sunday, so the shop was shut.

The other week, a Kuching friend told us that this business was about to close, as the operator, Mr Kiu Chiong Loi, had decided to retire.

Yikes, we must pay a return visit, we thought. Soon it will be too late...

And only yesterday there was an article in The Borneo Post confirming this closure, and recording the shock and regret of the shop's many loyal customers. Mr Kiu is 83 years old, so this is not exactly a premature withdrawal from the field of labour. Still, people feel a big chunk of their life is disappearing, and they're sad.

When we arrived, early on this rainy Thursday, the place was packed. But luckily we coincided with a departure, and were able to shoehorn ourselves round a table in the far corner.


We were, shall we say, an object of interest... It's almost always polite interest in Malaysia. But it was clear that not many Westerners seek out this place. One older man made his way over to talk to us. He'd been coming here for 50 years, he said (and sure enough, the business has been running for over six decades...). He said we were the first -- and there was a pause, as he looked for the right word. "Orang putih?" I suggested. That just means white people, but sometimes -- I don't know why -- it's easier to put delicate matters in Malay. "Yes," he said, "the first orang putih I've seen here." He'd obviously missed our visit five years ago. But we got the point. He took a photo of us. We shook hands...

There was a bit of a wait. The shop was full, as I said, and you can't really manufacture the "wok edge paste" in bulk. But it was worth not being in a rush. These bowls come full of fishballs and mushrooms and other things I don't have names for -- plus the eponymous bits of solidified rice paste, of course -- and all you have to do is liberally add some good Sarawak pepper, and enjoy. Simple. Satisfying.


We felt as though we were eating a bit of history...

With all the messing about I've done in life, all the ducking and diving from place to place, career to career, I so admire someone who can learn to do something well, and then do it, faithfully and reliably, for 60 years. Our ding-bian-hu-maker is truly an institution, and I can understand how people will feel his absence terribly. It's like a mountain going missing.

Our Kuching friend says his son is going to start up somewhere else. But I don't know about that.

I'm just grateful for today's breakfast, and all the decades of experience that went into it.

May you have a long and happy retirement, Mr Kiu...