It's Not Called Meat Candy, It's Called Bakkwa

Overheard at Changi Airport, party of three walks past a food court and duty-free shopping on the way to their connecting flight:

“Do you want anything to eat?”

“No… I’m not particularly fussed.”

“Can we stop here and go look at the alcohol?” [He’s on the lookout for a good deal]

“Sure!” Party of three walks into alcohol duty free. Upon entering, she has a change of heart.

“Hey, I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go buy a piece of meat candy.”

Record scratch

My first impulse purchase upon arriving at Changi: a piece of something that smells like bbq pork and looks like a meat Fruit Roll-up. One little Costco-style taster and that was that, the cashier had my Amex to charge me for one slice of whatever I just ate.

I didn’t know what it was called, but my brain registered it as meat candy. If you saw an American frumpy-as[s] mom wearing glasses, a mom-core backpack, a sizeable nappy bag, and she was happily chomping on a piece of flat sticky pork… Hi. That was me. And I did not care about your judging me at the time I was devouring said meat candy. I do care now, I could do better.

The meat in question is called bakkwa. It’s kinda like a jerky, a delicious sweeter jerky. It may be paleo if it didn’t taste so sweet.

Do I think about it often? Yes, yes I do. Will I likely buy another impulse piece if I pass by a bakkwa stand during my time here? Likely, very likely.

A Kiwi-American family's journey in Kuala Lumpur via food. Written by Tina TM, previously based in Kuala Lumpur. Learn more about this blog.