24 TRAVEL+LEISURE | APRIL / MAY 2020
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See how far down
the rabbit hole goes
at She Said Hidden
Lounge.HOMETOWN GLORY
Once a blip on the radar between KL and Penang, Ipoh
now has a bar scene to rival that of both cities. MARK LEAN
heads home to find out what has—and hasn’t—changed.
PHOTOGRAPHS BY LESTER LEDESMAI
WAS SIX WHEN I HAD my first experience with toddy, a type of working-class palm wine. I was told
by an aunt to grab a couple of takeaway plastic bags of the drink at a dive bar in a half-forgotten part
of my hometown of Ipoh. Her instructions: “go in, ask for two bags, pay the money and get out.” She,
of course, waited outside in her little racing-green Morris Minor with the engine still humming. The
toddy acted as the leavening agent for her famous steamed flour buns. I still recall the bleary faces of
the people in the bar, with its precariously hinged wooden saloon doors. These guys were probably
more surprised at my appearance there than I was, but blasé—and drunk—enough not to react visibly
to a six-year-old ordering bags of contraband booze. This was the extent of Ipoh’s nightlife in the 1980s; in the
past couple of years, much has changed.
My friend and I sit on stools outside a pre-war shophouse at a joint called Kikilalat (fb.com/kikilalat.place;
drinks from RM25). Old Town is not this whisper-quiet during the day, but tonight this road is ours. Illuminated
by old street lamps, we’re tasting a recalibrated version of toddy, which was introduced to the Malaya by Indian
laborers who toiled on rubber plantations. The updated version, stored in a steel cask at Kikilalat, is crisper and
punchier, made with fresh lemongrass. Its wisps of acidity and floral notes take the sting off what has always
been a pretty harsh drink. A nice metaphor for all the ways the imbibing culture of Ipoh has been upgraded.