The Love of Linut

The mere mention of 'Linut' or sago makes Pit Peng salivate. It is the tradtional food of the Melanau in Sarawak.  Pit Peng learned to eat it from Nina, his Melanau girlfriend.

Six months ago, he had been full of misgivings towards the gooey food.

“Hi, Peng,” greeted Nina, as she opened the front door of her house. “Welcome to my home.”

“Hi, Nina,” said Pit Peng, handing Nina a bouquet of flowers. “I am excited to meet your parents.”

“Don’t worry,” said Nina, sniffing the flowers. “They are open-minded and friendly.”

Nina, looking beautiful in a pale blue blouse and a white knee-length skirt, ushered the self-conscious, ill-at-ease Pit Peng into the tastefully-decorated sitting room.  Her parents, both seated on a sofa, smiled as the two walked in their direction.

“Good evening, Uncle and Auntie.”  Pit Peng said as he extended his hand and shook the hands of Nina’s parents.

“Please sit down,” said Nina’s father, a retired government servant in his early sixties.

“Thank you, uncle.”

“Nina told me that you work as a teacher as well,” said Nina’s father. “What subject do you teach?”

“English,” replied Pit Peng.  “but I am still learning.”

“That’s good,” said Nina’s father. “A young man like you should learn as much as possible.”

“Peng,” Nina chimed in, sounding mysterious, “you are going to learn something new this evening.”

“What is it, Nina?” asked Pit Peng, puzzled.

“Ask my mum,” said Nina, smiling naughtily. “She will introduce you to a special Melanau dish.”

“It must be umai,” said Pit Peng, confidently. “But I have tasted it before.”

Umai or pickled fish, is a popular Melanau dish. 

“No, it isn’t,” said Nina’s graceful fifty-six year old Mother. “It’s Linut.”

“Linut?” Pit Peng asked, shaking his head. “What is it?”

“It’s sago,” Nina’s mother said proudly. “It used to be the staple food of the Melanau in the old days.”

Pit Peng’s heart sank. He had seen it sold in plastic bags at the market before. It was nothing but starch –unappetisingly chalk-white and powdery.  “What’s the point of eating sago?” His mother had remarked at the sight of some Melanau villagers on television enjoying sago during a feast one afternoon. “It’s like eating glue.”  Pit Peng could feel his stomach revolt. 

                When Pit peng was invited to the dining room, he was surprised to see a wide array of food on the table, such as fried fish, umai, stir-fried fern tops, pickled bamboo shoots and  various dipping sauces.  Next to each person’s plate was a clipper-like instrument.  In the centre of the table was a pot of sago which had been soaked and drained of water.

                “Peng,” said Nina’s father. “My wife and Nina are going to demonstate how to cook Linut.”

                Pit Peng gave him an awkward smile.

                “Show time!” Nina said as she brought a kettle of boiled water from the kitchen.

                Pit Peng took a deep breath.

                Nina poured the hot water little by little into the pot of sago.  Her mother kept stirring the powder with a wooden spoon and within seconds, the powder became gooey and increased in volume. 

                “Peng,” said Nina’s mother. “Can you see that the sago starch has become more and more translucent?”

                “Yes,” said Pit Peng. 

                “When it imparts a glistening sheen,” explained Nina,  “it is ready to be served.”

                Nina’s mother twirled up a bite-sized ball of cooked sago with one of the clipper-like instruments, dunked it into a bowl of dipping sauce and handed it to Pit Peng.

                “Eat it,” said Nina’s mother, “and let us know what you think of it.”

                Pit Peng hesitated for a secon, before shoving it into his mouth.

                Pit Peng was surprised by how palatable it was. In fact, it tasted great.  It was smooth and melted in his mouth instantly.  The zingy aftertaste must have been caused by the use of kalamansi juice, chillies and shrimp paste in the dipping sauce.

               “Do you like it?” asked Nina’s father.

                “Yes, I like it,” said Pit Peng.

                “Be frank with us,” said Nina.  “You don’t have to lie.”

                “Really,” said Pit Peng, “It is really delicious.”

                “I’m glad you like it,” said Nina’s mother, her eyes twinking with delight. “We normally eat it with sauces. It is by nature, quite tasteless, but is rich in vitamins.”

                “Can I eat it on its own?” asked Pit Peng.

                “Yes,” said Nina’s father. “It has a very mild taste.”

                Nina’s mother twirled up another ball of Linut and gave it to Pit Peng, who again tasted it and found it very refreshing.

                “Okay,” said Nina’s father, clicking his fingers,“let’s start eating Linut.”

                “Bon appetit,” said Nina, winking at Pit Peng.

                “We normally eat it with hot and spicy dishes like the ones on the table,” said Nina’s father. “They are good accompaniments.”

                With that, Nina and her parents held the clipper-like instruments in their hands and poked them into the pot of Linut.  They twirled it up adeptly, dipped it in their favourite sauces and brought it to their mouths.  Pit Peng tried to twirl up the sago but could only scoop up a little.  Nina laughed and showed him how to twist it up.  Pit Peng tried several times before finally getting the hang of it. They kept conveying the sago to their mouths as they relished the light-hearted atmosphere.

                From then onwards, Pit Peng became a regular visitor to Nina’s house.  They ate Linut together, enjoying its delicious taste and the bliss of dining with each other.  A few weeks later, Pit Peng’s parents were invited to have Linut in Nina’s house.  They, too, fell in love with the food that they had dared not try in the past.

                Pit Peng snaps out of his reverie when Michael Chong, the class monitor of 5 Einstein 2 knocks at the door of the cooking room. There are twenty to thirty students lining up outside the room.

                “Mr Lim, can we come in now?”

                “Yes,” says Pit Peng. “Please come in.”

                The students enter and take their seats around the tables.

                After exchanging good mornings, a student named Jessie Enteri raises her hand and asks, “Teacher, why are we having English class in the school kitchen today?”

                With a smile, Pit Peng writes the word ‘LINUT’ on the whiteboard.

                “Have you ever eaten linut before?” Pit Peng poses the question to the whole class.

                Most of the students say no; only a small number answer in the affirmative.  The majority of the students are Chinese.  The rest are Indians, Malays and Ibans.

                “What is linut?” asks a Chinese boy.

                “It’s sago starch,” says Pit Peng.

                “What has it got to do with our lesson?” an Indian girl asks.

                “You are going to learn how to cook and eat sago today,” Pit Peng announces.

                Some students cheer and some groan.

                “Teacher, I love linut.”

                “Teacher, I can’t wait to eat it now.”

                “Teacher, I don’t want to eat glue.”

                “Teacher, why don’t you teach us to cook speghetti?”

                “Sago is a special food of the Melanau,” says Pit Peng. “For those who have never eaten it, you should try it today.”

                With that, Pit Peng begins the lesson by asking the students where sago trees are normally found.

                “They grow in swampy areas,” says a Malay girl.

                “You’re right,” Pit Peng says. “Have you eaten it before?”

                “Of course,” replies the girl. “Malays also like to eat sago.”

                “And so do the Ibans,” an Iban boy pipes up.

                “Good,” says Pit Peng. “Do you know how sago powder is extracted?”

                “No, teacher.” The boy replies, shaking his head.

                “I know, Teacher,”says a Chinese girl. “Although I have never eaten sago, I know it is extracted from the inside of the tree trunk.”

                “What do you call the inside of a sago trunk?”Pit Peng asks.

                The class falls quiet.  Pit Peng writes the word ‘PITH’ on the whiteboard.

                Many students look at the word with interest. Some copy it into their notebooks.

                “The pith is grated into powder,” Pit Peng explains.  “It is then soaked in water. A white, sticky residue is left after the water has been drained.  It turns into sago powder after being left to dry in the sun for a few days.”

                Pit Peng shows the students how to cook sago.  The room is abuzz with excitement during the cooking session. He has become very good at it after several practice sessions in Nina’s house. He asks one of the students to help him to cook the starch. While the student pours hot water over the wet lump of sago starch, Pit Peng stirs it gently with a spoon.  All the students clap when the sago doubles in bulk.  Then, Pit Peng divides the students into groups of five and gives each group a pot of wet sago starch.  Under his meticulous guidance, every group is able to accomplish its task.

              Pit Peng takes out a few bowls of dipping sauce and distributes them to all the groups.  He also gives candas them, which are the clipper-like sticks used for twirling up the sago.  Many previously reluctant students squeal in delight when they try it.  Thrilled by the novelty of the flavor, they launch successive attacks of candas into the pots of sago.  Very soon the pots are empty.

                “Did you enjoy today’s lesson?” asks Pit Peng.

                “Yes,” The students chorus happily.

                “I will tell my parents to buy sago,” chirps a Chinese girl.

                “I have learnt so much about the nature of sago, how its powder is extracted and most importantly, how delicious it is with Mr. Lim’s special sauce,” enthuses an Indian boy.

                “Teacher,” a girl named Lisa shouts. “You know so much about sago. Why don’t you take a Melanau girl as your wife?”

                A ripple of laughter passes through the students.

                Pit Peng clears his throat and says, “I am getting married at the end of next month.  My wife to be happens to be a Melanau.”

                The students break into jubilant cheers and clapping.

                “Congratulations, Teacher!”

                “You can eat sago every day!”

                “Invite us to your wedding!”

                “How romantic!”

                Pit Peng’s face beams with happiness. He loves Nina more and more with each passing day.  Their shared love of sago has strengthened their relationship.  He will never stop loving Nina, nor will his taste buds become jaded from eating sago.