George Town is changing fast. In the little over four years since we began visiting on a regular basis the city has sprouted a dozen boutique hotels (with more on the way), a bakery turning out Paris-worthy rustic French baked goods and coq au vin, a cafe where the daily specials might include handmade tamales steamed in banana leaf or a perfectly dressed Caesar salad and a hole-in-the-wall serving delicate French pastries crafted by a Cordon Bleu-trained chef and siphon coffee from a menu with detailed tasting notes. There are new galleries and performance spaces. The George Town Festival, which takes place every summer, has grown from a nice little celebration of Penang culture to a month-long fest that attracts artists, musicians and performers from around the world.
But make no mistake: George Town is no twee boutique town tarted up for tourists, with no real sense of its old self. For now at least this place that we'll soon call home -- after 20 months (!) of renovations -- is still real. Those new cafes and exist side-by-side with hawker stalls and coffee shops and restaurants that have been around for decades.
From the latter category, one of our favorites is International Hotel's coffee shop and its famed nasi Padang/nasi Malay stall. This enterprise is decades old and family run. Its proprietors came to Penang from west Sumatra, Indonesia (home of nasi Padang) over 20 years ago. In the four or so years that we've been eating here the place hasn't changed a whit. Nor has the sky-high quality of its food, or the composition of its clientele. Few tourists seem to make it to Jalan Transfer, which sits just outside George Town's UNESCO conservation core. Fewer still make it to International Hotel which, given the dearth of choices when it comes to Malay cuisine in George Town, is a pity.
Be forewarned: choice here can be overwhelming, especially if you know (and now you do, because we're telling you) that every dish is worthy of space on your plate. Eating at International Hotel as a couple is painful, the decision of what to eat almost too onerous. No matter how wisely you choose you'll walk away wishing you'd chosen differently, or eaten more, and vowing to return.
What you'll find, if you come for lunch around noon (and you shouldn't come much later, lest the most popular dishes be finished and the coffee shop too crowded to seat you), is a two-level glass-fronted display case at the coffee shop's entrance groaning under the weight of stainless steel trays holding dishes west Sumatran and Malay, and sometimes kind of Indian and sort of Chinese. Curries, stir-fries, sauteed vegetables, small rectangles of golden crispy deep-fried tempeh that will make you wonder why chips makers don't get hip to the possibilities of this fermented soybean cake. There are salad-y concoctions of morning glory (aka water spinach), bean sprouts, chilies and coconut and sometimes mango, and a lovely refreshing acar consisting of fresh pineapple, cucumber, and mild red chili rings in sweet-tangy vinegar dressing.There is fish stewed (look for the pot of lemon-yellow turmeric and coconut milk fish curry) and deep-fried and sauced. A glorious, truly truly gloriously warm spice and chili-laden beef rendang. Whole long Asian eggplants, cooked to impossible silkiness and slathered with fresh red chili sauce. An unctuous pineapple curry -- yes, you read that right, a richly aromatic, sunset hued cinnamon-heavy coconut curry sauce with no meat or chicken or fish, just thick rings of semi-firm, sweet-tart pineapple. And chicken cooked with kecap manis, its almost black sauce and slightly sweet stickiness countered by chunks of bright red fiery chili.
There's more. A small table behind the display case holds milder dishes: greens stewed in coconut milk, rehydrated ropes of delightfully chewy dried bean curd with rice vermilli in soup, globe eggplants halved and floating in a delicious but unchallenging Indian-ish curry. This table is also home to what might be considered this family's piece de resistance: whole fish whose split bellies hold a stuffing of chili sauce-rubbed sliced onions. At a cooker just to the side of the coffee shop the fish are submerged in hot oil; they emerge crisp, the color of black coffee, their bellies spilling onions sweetened by the heat and gone to caramel, some crunchy and some still slightly soft. These fish go fast.
And yet still more: nearby, a 2-tiered shelf displays cooked and fresh vegetables and a few sambal (chili sauces, made with belacan/shrimp paste or just fresh chilies and lime) with which to assemble your own ulam spread (think of it as the Malay version of a crudite plate) .Relatively recently the stall's proprietors introduced a new item: a platter holding the makings of gado-gado (tofu cubes, bean sprouts, chunks of cucumber, etc) and a bowl of chunky peanut sauce to spoon over your vegetable mix.
This is a self-serve operation. Most diners opt for a plate of rice over which they spoon sauce from a curry or two, bits and pieces from 2 or 3 dishes, maybe a bit of sambal on the side. But to make the most of this stall's vast selection we recommend you accept a plate of rice, then use the empty bowls, plates and platters neatly stacked by the rice cooker to assemble a family-style feast at the center of your table.
Don't be embarassed to make several trips to and from the display to your table; it's the only way to make sure you've covered all of this establishment's hits. Once you've mapped out your meal let the staff know. They'll come to your table and figure your bill, and even offer to cut some of the more unweildy dishes (those long eggplants smothered in chilies, for instance) into shareable portions with kitchen shears. Order a drink from the coffee shop's Chinese owners (and pay them directly), then pay for your lunch after you've finished.
In the unlikely event that you're still hungry you're no more than a 5-minute walk from an exquisite walnut and salted caramel tart, and a good espresso is just ten minutes further by foot. All this, and International Hotel's nasi Padang too. Welcome to the new George Town.
Nasi Padang/nasi Malay stall at International Hotel, Jalan Transfer at the corner of Jalan Sekerat. Lunch is the best time to go, as early as 11/1130.