Comfort Food Chronicles Across Three Cities Two Continents

The first thing I UberEat yesterday, after being awake for more than 36 hours, was Upma from Chai n Dosa—with a side of Sambar. A bowl of these miniature grains (rice’s grandkids, as I see it) is a typical breakfast in a South Indian household and my current go-to comfort food.

Eating it got me reminiscing about the past collections of comfort food that have tided me through breakups, pre-exam all-nighters, under-appreciated over time, or simply bad days.

In the West, before Upma took the throne, it was a short stint of Buddha Bowl and the still-on-rotation Sri Lankan lunch deal from Hop & Spices.

But the West OG, the first one I crowned as the comfort food a couple of months after moving here (after learning there was no good pasta in the West), was the Indonesian Crazy Rice from the Kaki Lima Foodtruck.

They were a five-minute ride within a five-km lockdown distance from our home. Unfortunately, their opening time had been inconsistent, and I couldn’t handle the repeated disappointment of not getting my comfort food when I needed it the most, so I moved on.

When we lived in the South Yarra apartment, it was Dainty Sichuan Spicy Chongqing Chicken. It was always served with bones and sides of white rice for an additional $3—eating it with our rice didn’t taste the same.

On a rare occasion, when I was super stressed out—due to upcoming exams or having to rework version 17th of the budget—I made Fafa get me a Lobster Linguine takeaway from Baby. The $40 price tag made it a once-in-a-blue-moon thing.

Then, there were failed trials of the Mango Prawn Taco from Hecho de Mexico, also during Covid.

But let’s not talk more about comfort food and Covid in the same sentence.

Almost a decade ago, while living in Singapore, my comfort food was a rotation of Chicken Rice and Nasi Lemak. But not Punggol Nasi Lemak—it’s reserved for good times, friend visits, and drunken nights—usually all three together.

I also had go-to mini-comfort food, all within walking distance of my shitty workplace – mr bean Chocolate Pancake with Grass Jelly Soya Milk for breakfast, Bhai Vadai with Teh Tarik for afternoon tea, and 7-11 piping hot Chicken Pao for overtime, or just when I was out for a walk-and-cry break.

During Uni time in Jakarta, my comfort food was a set menu from Hoka Hoka Bento in the mall across from my university building. I used to go there between my classes – always alone – to get a plate of shrimp rolls with a big dollop of their iconic chilli sauce on the side, a bowl of white rice, Teh Botol, and a chocolate pudding-drizzled with their ice-cold chocolate sauce. If any of these four things were unavailable, the meal ceased to be a comfort food.

At school, it used to be Mie Bakso, an MSG-laden meatball noodle soup for 30c a bowl.

Before that, and until now, it’s Amma’s version of Atta’s yellow chicken (wings only) soup.

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