Review: Together dinner at West New Malaysia (Chinatown NYC)

Of the three years that I lived in Boston post-college, I lived with my college best friend. The first year, we were in a drafty apartment bordering railroad tracks in East Cambridge. Newly graduated and underpaid, we went to free game nights at Aeronaut Brewing Company, splurged on “road tendies” (aka one or two chicken tenders from grocery store hot bars meant to be eaten on the walk home), and occasionally went to small nerd parties. It was the best roommate situation I have ever had or will have. Shortly after the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, she moved to Denver. I moved to NYC.

Among her many virtues, my best friend can tell a solid story. One anecdote she has on repeat is about her childhood in Singapore and eating bowl after bowl of her then-favorite dish, laksa. As the story goes, her mother took her to the doctor after my friend complained of tummy pain. After her mother ratted on her laksa eating habits, the doctor forbid it.

Ever since her mention of laksa, I’d been trying to get my hands on it. Partially because there is nothing I love more than food, but also because I missed her like a sister. The thing about distance between people is you miss the little ways they change daily. Laksa was an opener, something to connect us before getting into other topics.

After noticing that West New Malaysia, a restaurant whose menu boasted laksa, made Michelin’s Bib Gourmand list (despite the politics, privilege, and wealth that goes into Michelin I’m a sucker for Bib Gourmand), I went to try a bowl late May.

There was a wait, even for solo diners, and the host at West New Malaysia didn’t keep track of who might be next for a table. I enjoy imagining myself as a woman who is assertive and speaks up when the host ignores her and seats group after group that arrived after her, the kind of woman who elbows her way through the crowd of ravenous patrons, double hammer fists the host stand and says “HELLO YES EXCUSE ME I WAS NEXT.”

The reality though is that on that night at West New Malaysia I depended on the kindness of another person on the waitlist. One person showed mercy and told the host that I was here first. The host’s reply was a wordless I-could-give-a-shit-less-someone-just-come expression.

I am a sucker for strong spicy, sour flavors and was immediately enamored with the laksa. I also enjoy sweet and sour flavors, so I welcomed the bright pineapple chunks hiding in the broth. The smell of lemongrass and seafood was heavy. I could see why my friend loved it so much growing up. When I reported back to her on it, she told me what I had was Penang asam laksa. Her childhood favorite was the coconut milk, curried version. I still loved Penang asam laksa though.

We still see each other once or twice a year and when she was in NYC for a couple of days last week, I brought her to West New Malaysia. I was bashful about the idea: she’s had the authentic stuff, and here I was telling her West New Malaysia’s was great. What if I was wrong, and she thought I had busted tastebuds?

Would she give the thumbs up? Attuned to her reaction, the food didn’t taste as good. She broke the surface of the laksa with a spoon and made an "mmm" of appreciation upon tasting, but I could tell it didn't meet her expectations.

My best friend took a while to choose Hainanese chicken rice from West New Malaysia's extensive menu. Her dad makes this dish for special occasions because it’s time intensive to prepare. The chicken was a little cold, but the rice was warm. “The rice isn’t as flavorful as it could be,” she said. All of the sesame oil and flavor were concentrated at the bottom of the rice.

I decided the roti canai was my new favorite savory thing. Any day I can dip flaky, buttery roti pieces into spicy curry chicken dip (sans the chicken. It only had a chunk of potato hiding in there) is a good day.

I think sometimes we eat to understand from a different perspective. I am rarely reminded of a place or a person when I eat a dish, but there have been instances. Feijoada at Muqueca Restaurant in Cambridge, MA brought up a generic memory of my dad’s soul food. The tanginess of Penang asam laksa brought back a memory of Filipino sinigang.

My tune about West New Malaysia has changed, but it's the journey not the destination. Whether her next trip to NYC is in two days or twenty years, I continue to scoop out restaurants and look forward to seeing her again.

Looking for dessert after dinner at West New Malaysia? I highly recommend Alimama Tea for the chewiest mochi donuts warm and freshly made. Plus it's less than 300 feet away.