Singapore's Traditional Snack

Snacks soon to be of the past? Clockwise from left: Sar Kay Mah, Sesame Egg Split and Honey Twist.

Like they say, good things come in small packages, and that is exactly how we describe Sar Kay Mah and the master behind this vanishing snack.

It has a texture that is somewhat like crispies – chewy and crunchy. Plus the coat of malt sugar, the old-school snack has an addictive sweetness to it.

But Sar Kay Mah is only as good as what is described above if it is handmade, as its mass produced counterparts are often bland and “deflated”.

Handmade Sar Kay Mah can be found in the ubiquitous traditional bakeries in Hong Kong, Taiwan and Malaysia. In Singapore, however, Mr Pan of Pan Ji Cooked Food at Chinatown Complex is probably the last man standing.

The 55-year-old began making Sar Kay Mah when he was just 14, and despite the fact that his left hand is deformed by birth, with only five fingers to carry out tasks, the stocky Pan borrowed strength from the rest of his body to knead the dough. 

Despite his commitment to make everything from scratch, business is hardly thriving and his stall is only graced by the occasional passersby.

“Not many people eat Sar Kay Mah these days, but I’m fine with just getting by,” Pan says in Mandarin.

Sar Kay Mah originates from Manchuria and was offered in ancestor remembrance ceremonies. There are many explanations for its name but the most believable one has got to do with its origin.

“Sar Kay” is a short form for “cut” in Manchurian, while “Mah” means “arrange”, hence “Sar Kay Mah” basically describes the making process.

In Hong Kong, people refer to Sar Kay Mah as “Ma Zai”, which also refers to horse racing. Hence, superstitious punters would eat Sar Kay Mah before placing their bets in hope of good luck.

Unfortunately, Singaporeans do not have any similar belief. The popularity of the snack here is dwindling. Even bakers have forsaken this tough job.

The entire process, which includes kneading, rising, cutting, frying, cooling, and coating, takes a good nine hours. Each time, Pan produces only a small amount to fill up the table in front of his stall.

The bachelor has no successor at the moment, so he jokingly asked this writer to become his disciple. When asked how long it will take to learn his skills, Pan responded with the air of a grand master, “It can take three days or three years. It depends whether you are smart or stupid.”

Source