By Nic Ang, the HapiWanderer
Penang — my late mother’s birthplace — will forever hold a special place in my heart. I still remember the December school holidays, 46 years ago, when my father would drive us in his trusty Datsun 130Y to Tanjong Bungah, an area of white sandy beaches and blue waves. Those journeys remain vivid, etched in memory.
And no trip to Penang was complete without a detour to Air Itam: a walk around the Air Itam dam, a stop at Kek Lok Si Temple, and finally, the reward — a steaming bowl of laksa at the bustling Air Itam market. The stall, tucked along the five-foot way, was always alive with clattering metal chairs and foldable tables, the air thick with the unmistakable aroma of Penang laksa.
And there stood “Uncle Seong” — always in his white singlet, splashed with gravy and flecked with noodles, cucumber, lettuce, mint, and bunga kantan. Beside his pot of simmering broth, he dished out bowl after bowl with quiet mastery. That image, humble yet iconic, will never fade.
The news of Ang Kak Seong’s recent passing at the age of 77 brings deep sadness. Another culinary legend has left us. Yet I am grateful — thankful that I savoured his laksa just last month, a memory now more precious than ever. (No more white singlet, he was wearing something else!)
But his legacy endures. His brother, Peoh, who used to work at the Air Itam stall, continues the family tradition at Angcle Peoh’s in Bukit Tinggi, Klang. The recipe endures, preserving the taste of Penang for those who seek it.
Farewell, Uncle Seong. Your laksa was more than food — it was heritage, memory, and love in a bowl.