by A. J. Low
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Wendy said. “We’ve searched everywhere and it’s not anywhere.”
“Which stands to reason that it must have been taken from Auntie Kim Lian,” I said, flipping through my book. “Occam’s razor!”
“Oh-come-what?” Jimmy asked.
“Who would want to steal anything from Auntie Kim Lian?” Wendy asked.
“I don’t know yet,” I replied. “But logically, this is the only conclusion that we can reasonably come to.”
“You know, Jimmy,” Wendy said, “once we find your grandma’s cookbook, you should help her type all her recipes out and print multiple copies for safekeeping.”
“I could, sure,” Jimmy said, “but Mama loves the book, too, more than the recipes!”
“That makes sense,” I said. “It does have the handwritings of her mom, grandma, and great-grandma.”
“Plus all the pictures,” Wendy said. “You’re right. It’s a very important family heirloom. But when we find it, you should make copies anyway. Maybe scan the images and the handwritten pages, just in case.”
I didn’t want to tell her, but that was a very good idea.
Just then, we heard a car pull up outside.
“I think that’s Mom and Dad,” Wendy said.
“That would be my deduction as well, Wendy,” I replied.
We all made our way down to the living room.
“Hey, Mom! Hey, Dad!” I said.
“Hello, Sam. Auntie called and said you were on a case!” Dad replied. We beamed at each other.
“Have the children been behaving themselves, Auntie?” Mom asked.
“Oh yes, yes. They have been very helpful but we still haven’t found my cookbook,” Auntie Kim Lian replied.
“Have you tried looking for disturbances in the space-time continuum, son?” Dad asked.
I could not see her but I could feel Wendy rolling her eyes.
“Yes, Dad, no disturbances in the space-time continuum, and no traces of faster-than-light travel, either,” I replied.
“I see you’ve covered your bases then, Sherlock,” Dad said, nodding sagely.
“I’m very sorry for not being able to cook anything tonight,” Auntie Kim Lian said. “I know Samuel was especially looking forward to it.”
“Don’t worry about it, Auntie,” Mom said. “How about we buy you and the children dinner to take your mind off things? Samuel and Watson can look again tomorrow.”
“You mean Sherlock and Watson, Mom,” I said.
“Yes, dear, I think you meant Sherlock and Watson,” Dad repeated, grinning at me.
Mom ignored both of us. Mom and Wendy were quite alike in some ways.
“I’ve recently been hearing great things about this Peranakan restaurant,” Mom said.
“No, no, no, we never eat Peranakan food that isn’t home-cooked,” Jimmy said, frowning. “Right, Mama?”
“Right, sayang,” Auntie Kim Lian said, smiling.
“But, Auntie, you know the owner, I think. Her name is Angie?” Mom asked.
“Angie Lim? Is her daughter Marie-Anne?” Auntie Kim Lian said.
“I think so, yes,” Mom replied.
“Marie-Anne attended my cooking class at the community club, but she hasn’t been to lessons in two weeks,” Auntie Kim Lian said. “I suppose I could try her food to show support.”
Suddenly, everything clicked into place.
“To the restaurant!” I cried.
“Well,” Auntie Kim Lian said, startled, “I guess we better go, then!”
Auntie Kim Lian wouldn’t regret it because I was just about to find her missing heirloom!
Mom and Dad drove us to the restaurant, with Jimmy squeezed in the back with Watson, Wendy, and me. Auntie Kim Lian was driving her own car, with Jimmy’s sisters and Auntie Gina.
We arrived at the restaurant, the New Peranakan Place. It had taken over three shophouses on Joo Chiat Road and painted them all red. It was a two-story restaurant, but even with all the space, there was an enormous line of people outside, waiting to get in.
Thinking ahead like I always did, I’d had Mom call to make a reservation before we left the house, so we had no problems getting a table.
I looked at the menu and saw a lot of traditional Peranakan dishes: bakwan kepeting, chap chye, popiah, and many, many more, including my favorite, ayam buah keluak.
“Mom, can I go to the restroom?” I said.
“But, Samuel, you haven’t ordered anything yet,” Mom said, a little worried.
“Just order a small bowl of ayam buah keluak for me,” I said, getting out of my chair. “Let’s go, Watson!”
“That’s all you want to eat?” Mom asked, now definitely worried.
“Oh, don’t worry,” I said, walking away. “I’ll be eating a lot more before the night is done.”
I felt bad saying I was going to the restroom, but I needed to maintain stealth for this mission. Plus, if I was captured behind enemy lines, Mom and Dad could disavow all knowledge of my actions, because they actually didn’t know!
I dragged Watson to the kitchen and we hid under one of the cooking stations. They looked similar to the ones in Auntie Kim Lian’s classroom, but were much fancier, and with a lot more food and utensils on top.
There were a lot of cooks and waiters scurrying around, so Watson and I had to stay very quiet and still. I scanned the area and saw a brown-haired woman in a black shirt and slacks. She was holding Auntie Kim Lian’s recipe book!
“I knew it, Watson!” I whispered. “It all makes sense now!”
“I-am-sure-you-will-explain-it-to-me-later,” Watson said.
“I will, but first we need to get that book back,” I said. “No one will believe us without proof!”
We needed to get closer, but with so many people around, how could we do it?
Watson suddenly extended one of his arms and tripped a waiter on our right. He fell with a mighty crash! The woman put Auntie Kim Lian’s recipe book down and went to the waiter’s rescue, along with everybody else in the kitchen.
“Please-run-across-now-and-make-sure-you-do-not-fall-down-noisily,” Watson said, and we ran two stations closer to the book.
“Watson, it wasn’t nice to trip the waiter!”
I whispered, turning to check that the waiter was not too badly hurt.
“I-did-not-have-a-choice. It-was-the-only-way-to-do-this.” Watson extended his arms across the two cooking stations and picked up Auntie Kim Lian’s cookbook. He then retracted his arms and brought it back.
“Good job, Watson!” I whispered. “But that still wasn’t very nice. You could have hurt him.”
“I-calculated-the-proper-path-so-that-nobody-would-be-hurt,” Watson said.
“Well, I guess that’s okay,” I said. “Quick! We should get out of here before we’re noticed!”
I carefully hid the cookbook in Watson’s secret compartment before we ran out of the kitchen. Watson and I went to the restroom and I washed my hands because I knew Mom would ask me to do that anyway.
We went back to the table. “Samuel, did you wash your hands?” Mom asked.
“Of course, Mom,” I said.
Our food came and we ate quickly. Auntie Kim Lian seemed surprised by everything she ate, and I knew why, even if she never mentioned it.
Once the meal was over, the waiter came over to give us the bill.
“Can I pay my compliments to the owner?” I asked. “The food was very delicious.”
“Sure,” the waiter said. He was the same one Watson had tripped, but he was perfectly okay.
“Samuel, don’t bother the owner,” Mom said. “She’s very busy, I’m sure.”
“Trust me, Mom,” I said. “You’ll want me to thank them for this meal.”
&nbs
p; Angie Lim came from the kitchen, looking exactly as she had when I had seen her holding Auntie Kim Lian’s cookbook.
“Hi, I heard there was a cute little boy here who wanted to compliment my restaurant,” Mrs. Lim said.
“Not quite,” I replied. “I actually wanted to compliment Auntie Kim Lian here.”
Mrs. Lim’s smile faded immediately. “Kim Lian? My daughter’s cooking teacher?”
“Oh, she’s mentioned me?” Auntie Kim Lian asked. “How thoughtful of her.”
“But Auntie Kim Lian, wasn’t her daughter the student who stopped coming to your class two weeks ago?” I asked. “You and Auntie Jane were talking about a student that had dropped out, and from the attendance sheet, I noticed that Marie-Anne had been absent for the past two weeks.”
“Yes, you’re right. Why did Marie-Anne stop coming?” Auntie Kim Lian asked Mrs. Lim.
Mrs. Lim stammered a bit.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Lim, we’ll answer that question later,” I said. “Jimmy found a very interesting piece of paper in the classroom, didn’t you, Jimmy?”
“The paper with the horrible handwriting!” Jimmy said, nodding.
“And Wendy realized that it was a recipe for bakwan kepeting, isn’t that right, Wendy?”
“Yes . . . where are you going with this, Sam?” Wendy asked. She looked worriedly at Mom and Dad.
“Auntie, which student recently asked you about a bakwan kepeting recipe?” I asked.
“Why, it was . . . Marie-Anne, I believe. She came up to me after class two weeks ago. But, Samuel, I don’t see what this has to do with my missing recipe book.”
“And everyone in your class knows you need your reading glasses to read recipes, correct, Auntie Kim Lian?”
“Of course! I’m blind as a bat without my reading glasses,” Auntie Kim Lian replied.
“But even with your reading glasses, you still had trouble reading Marie-Anne’s handwritten bakwan kepeting recipe, didn’t you? I also noticed from your notes in the attendance sheet that it was a dish you weren’t even teaching in your class.”
“Why, yes! The handwriting was . . . not neat,” Auntie Kim Lian said.
“That was done on purpose!” I said. “Marie-Anne’s handwriting on the attendance sheet was incredibly neat! I deduced that she deliberately wrote the recipe messily as she knew you would have trouble reading her handwriting. And while you were distracted, she stole your family heirloom from your bag!”
“You have no proof of this! How dare you—” Mrs. Lim said.
“Mom,” I said, not letting Mrs. Lim interrupt, “you said you heard good things about this restaurant only recently. How long ago is ‘recently’?”
“Slightly more than a week ago, actually,” Mom said. She looked at Mrs. Lim strangely. “Actually, before that, this restaurant was getting somewhat bad reviews.”
“You’re absolutely right, Mom,” I said. “In fact, you weren’t the only one who noticed this. There have been a lot of people talking about the New Peranakan Place, and its recent turnaround. I even heard about it this morning at Chin Mee Chin.”
Mrs. Lim was looking very nervous at that point.
“How many Peranakan cookbooks has your daughter checked out from the library, Mrs. Lim?” I asked.
“As many as she could,” Mrs. Lim replied. “She was trying to learn, after all. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Yes, but she’s had those books for more than a month, and it didn’t help your restaurant at all,” I said. “No, something happened much more recently. Perhaps two weeks ago, in fact.”
Everybody was looking at me, waiting. This was the best part—the grand reveal!
“Might the reason the New Peranakan Place is suddenly doing so well have something to do with . . .” I pushed a button to reveal Watson’s secret compartment where the book was hidden. Watson pulled it out, slowly.
Impatiently, I grabbed the book from Watson and shouted, “This!”
I made another note to myself to explain to Watson the need for a dramatic reveal.
Auntie Kim Lian gasped. “My recipe book! Oh, Sherlock, where did you find it?” she asked, reaching out to take her book from me.
“I found it in their kitchen, Auntie,” I said. “That’s why all the food tonight tasted so familiar to you. They stole your recipes!”
“Mrs. Lim, how could you do such a thing?” Dad said, standing up. “You should be ashamed of yourself!”
“Her restaurant was failing,” I continued. “She was desperate to save it.”
“That’s still no reason to steal from my Mama!” Jimmy yelled.
“When Marie-Anne found out that Auntie Kim Lian would be bringing her family recipe book to class for the first time two weeks ago, she hatched an elaborate plan to steal it. She and her mom then plotted to use the secret recipes. They assumed that Auntie Kim Lian would never find out because she never ate Peranakan food that wasn’t homemade. The perfect crime, or so they thought!” I continued.
“And my daughter and I would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn’t for you kaypoh kids!” Mrs. Lim said.
“I don’t want to do anything drastic, like call the police,” Auntie Kim Lian said. “But you must stop using my recipes, or else I will have no other choice.”
“Fine,” Mrs. Lim said. “We’ll stop using all your recipes.”
Dad paid the bill, even though Mrs. Lim didn’t deserve the money, and we all got up to leave.
“If Marie-Anne still wants to learn how to cook Peranakan food, she’s welcome to attend my classes. I will still be happy to teach her,” Auntie Kim Lian said, as she left the restaurant.
I thought that was a really nice thing for Auntie Kim Lian to say.
“Samuel, you did a very nice thing for Auntie Kim Lian,” Mom said.
“Don’t you mean Sherlock, dear?” Dad asked.
Mom smiled and kissed my forehead. “Yes, I do mean Sherlock.”
I grinned. “Well, I didn’t do it by myself. Watson and Jimmy helped a lot.”
I looked down at my shoes, and then at my sister. “And even Wendy helped.”
Wendy smiled. “You did good . . . Sherlock.”
“Oh, Samuel, thank you so much. Auntie is so happy!” Auntie Kim Lian said.
“I’m really happy for you, too, Auntie!” I said.
“Sherlock is Singapore’s Greatest Kid Detective!” Jimmy shouted.
“Only-when-he-is-hungry,” Watson replied.
“Now how about some of that famous ayam buah keluak!” I said, ignoring them.
Everybody laughed, so I took that to mean yes.
∗ ∗ ∗
A few weeks later, after many delicious bowls of ayam buah keluak that Auntie Kim Lian was cooking for me almost daily, Dad came to my room.
“Guess what, son?” he asked.
“What-are-the-guessing-guidelines?” Watson asked.
“He was talking to me, Watson,” I said.
I was trying to figure out how to add an attack program into Watson so Wendy would stop coming into my room unannounced.
Unfortunately, there was no way for me to get any military-grade glue traps. Yet.
“The New Peranakan Place has closed down,” Dad said. “Without Auntie Kim Lian’s recipes to help them, they went back to serving not-so-great food, and nobody wanted to eat there anymore.”
“Marie-Anne never went back for any of Auntie Kim Lian’s classes, did she?” I said.
“I guess not, son,” Dad replied.
“They shouldn’t have stolen Auntie Kim Lian’s recipe book. I’m sure if they had just asked, she would have helped them,” I said.
“You did a very good thing, Sherlock,” Dad said. “And I’m very proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “I learned every
thing I know from the best dad in the world.”
GLOSSARY
Aiyoh—Singaporean slang that can mean “oh dear.”
Ayam buah keluak—A chicken dish stewed with spices and buah keluak.
Babi pongteh—A braised pork dish with fermented soya bean gravy.
Bakwan kepeting—Pork and crab/shrimp meatballs served in a clear broth.
Batik—Traditional Javanese design made from dyeing cloth. This cloth is often used by Peranakans for shirts and sarongs.
Belachan—Shrimp paste mixed with chiles, minced garlic, shallot paste, and sugar, and then fried. Used in a lot of Peranakan cooking.
Biscuit—Cookie.
Buah keluak—Seeds from the tall trees of the mangrove swamps. The seeds contain hydrogen cyanide and are deadly poisonous if eaten before being washed, boiled, and buried in ash, banana leaves, and earth for at least forty days, and then soaked for four or five days. Once detoxified, the seeds are a mainstay of Peranakan cuisine.
Chap chye—Mixed vegetable stew.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory—A 1964 children’s book by Roald Dahl. The story is about the adventures of Charlie Bucket inside the chocolate factory of eccentric candy maker Willy Wonka. It has been made into two movies.
Chin Mee Chin Confectionery—A well-known old-fashioned bakery located in Katong. Famous for its traditional pastries, cakes, and kaya toast.
Detective Comics—A long-running comic book that has starred Batman since 1938.
Ikan gerang asam—Tenggiri fish, also known as Spanish mackerel, cooked in aromatic tangy gravy with fresh ginger bud, candlenut, fresh chiles, and okra.
Itek tim—A soup containing duck, tomatoes, salted vegetables, and preserved sour plums, simmered gently together.
Jaga—Malay word for “guard.”
Katong Antique House—A two-story shophouse located in Katong that holds various Peranakan artifacts and clothing. Owned and curated by Mr. Peter Wee.
