Manel, whose name means thunder god, rebelled in an almost unspeakable way... Sneaking out to parties? Never. Smoking, drinking? Hardly. Dating unvetted boys? No way. Being tempted by her new young Chinese husband to try Hainanese chicken rice. Heck, yes! To this day, so many decades later, the forbidden flavour is unforgettable and is still her all-time favourite dish. Manel's dad, Krishnan, was a holy man, a Brahmin. Her mother was a Wallee, and they were Tamil-Hindu Indian Malaysians, a minority group to be sure. The family observed a strictly vegetarian diet. While harbouring her secret, savoured chicken rice habit, Manel learned her mother's traditional Tamil-Brahmin recipes and as an enterprising young woman with a baby to raise, began two food businesses. She sold dosa for breakfast from her busy stall next to a telephone exchange, then at lunchtime jumped on her three-wheeled bike to peddle porridges. She parked her bike at the local hospital, where her beloved dad worked, and was proud that staff and patients keenly awaited her delivery of healing Ayurvedic food. For 40 cents, customers could sit with her and have a bowl of whatever was going that day - green peas, read beans, barley, sticky rice, sweet potato, or sago and coconut milk. At home, her family occasionally ate Malay and Nyonya dishes, too. When her whole family came together, Manel's mother made a Nyonya dessert treat, kueh dadar, known as surul appam in Tamil. Ever a kids' favourite, the vivid green pancakes filled their home - and hopefully will yours - with the heady floral aroma of sweet pandan.