Dongzhi in Ipoh: Where I Wish Time Would Stand Still

Today marks my 11th day back in Ipoh, and honestly, I wish I could stay here forever.

There’s something deeply comforting about being home with my parents — the familiar rhythms, the unspoken understanding, and the quiet joy of simply being. Life here feels slower, softer, and more intentional. I wake up without rush, eat without worry, and fall asleep feeling taken care of in ways that only parents can.

Today is Dongzhi, the Winter Solstice — a day about reunion, warmth, and family. And my dad, as always, marked the occasion by cooking up an absolute storm.

True to his nature, he refused any help in the kitchen. Cooking is his domain, and he likes full control of the entire process — from planning to chopping to seasoning. We’ve learned to respect that. So we let him be, happily. My role comes after: mopping the floor, cleaning the stove, washing the dirty kitchen slippers, and helping with the dishes. My younger brother Roy chips in too, tackling the dirty dishes alongside me. It’s teamwork, just in different stages.

Dad cooked my absolute favourite — rice wine chicken with black fungus and fried egg, using two whole thighs of bearded chicken. The meat was firm, flavourful, and deeply comforting, the kind of dish that feels like a warm hug in a bowl.

He also steamed a beautiful white pomfret, stir-fried snow peas with fish paste and garlic, sautéed baby bok choy, and cooked a big, nourishing pot of beetroot soup with sweet corn, arrow root (fun kok), pork ribs, and red dates.

Mum contributed too — she cooked parboiled basmati rice infused with blue pea flowers from our garden, turning a simple staple into something quietly special.

It was such a lovely dinner — one of those meals where the food is wonderful, but the company makes it unforgettable. Sitting at the table with my parents and brother, sharing stories and laughter, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. These are the moments that truly matter.

I did wish, though, that my three daughters were here with us today. Dongzhi is, after all, about togetherness.

We didn’t make or buy any tong yuen this year — we’re honestly not fans of glutinous balls. But yesterday, my eldest daughter Alycia, who’s in KL, surprised us in the sweetest way. She ordered desserts from the famous Douba Dessert Shop and had them delivered to us via GrabFood.

There was black glutinous tong sui with tong yuen, herbal jelly with boba and taro balls, mochi, and tau foo far. We enjoyed every bite — not just because they were delicious, but because they came with love. Even though she’s far away, she remembered us, thought of us, and found a way to be present.

That gesture filled my heart.

This Dongzhi, I’m reminded that family isn’t just about being physically together. It’s about thoughtfulness, care, and showing up — in meals cooked, floors cleaned, desserts sent, and love quietly expressed.

And here in Ipoh, surrounded by my parents, my brother, and the memories we’re still creating, I feel exactly where I’m meant to be.

Desserts ordered by Alycia in KL and delivered to us in Ipoh by Grab Food yesterday.

Rice wine bearded chicken with black fungus and fried egg.

Stir fried baby bokchoi and snow peas with fish paste.

Beet root + sweet corn + corn silk + arrow root (fun kok) + pork ribs + red dates soup boiled in the slow cooker for over 6 hours.

My brother and dad splashed extra hard liquor into their bowl of rice wine chicken.