Matt Preston has found the world's best satay sticks for 50c each

You might not have heard of this Malaysian destination but as this travelling foodie discovered, it's home to some of the world's tastiest and most affordable snacks.

You’ll know that you’re close to what are arguably the world’s best satay skewers when you see the wisps of smoke curling up to the sky and the crowd of motorbikes pulled up around an unassuming corner in a southern suburb of Kuala Lumpur.

Then the ramshackle collection of hawker huts surrounding an open-air square of basic tables and chairs come into view, but these are almost totally obscured by the ranks of grills – long, raised flat beds of coals flanked by large electric fans. These whirring fans are less about the slowly melting men constantly turning little bamboo skewers in the lingering heat of an equatorial evening and more about keeping the coals glowing hot. It must be a brutal place to work, but their pain is for our pleasure.

Whoa, there. Before we start a diplomatic incident, we need to acknowledge that satay started out as “sate”, a Javanese delicacy, and has been named the national dish of Indonesia. When it comes to food, however, things are never that simple. These Javanese one-stick skewers were inspired by those introduced by Indian traders, which in turn may well have their 10th-century roots in the kebabs of the Middle East or the steppes north of the Himalayas. A great idea, after all, always has many fathers.

While versions of “one-stick meat” were known in Java as early as the 15th century, satay is recorded jumping over the Strait of Malacca in the 19th century and quickly became a notable street food all over Southeast Asia; you can find old sepia photos of satay sellers from those days taken everywhere from Java to Singapore. Satay served with peanut sauce is also one of those dishes that Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore claim as their own. Other dishes in this contested group include rendang, Hainanese chicken rice, chilli crab and even spring rolls (which runs the risk of bringing the might of China into the fight!). It’s not uncommon for populist politicians, all the way up to PMs, to weigh in with their opinions on the devious culinary appropriation of such iconic dishes by other nations so I tread carefully here.

Satay Putera Kajang is among Kajang's popular satay hotspots. Picture: Instagram/satayputera

Still the best satay I’ve had, and this includes the legendary hawker sticks sold at Singapore’s famous open-air Satay Club (in its second incarnation on the Esplanade), were at the sprawling roadside stalls in Kajang in the Klang Valley some 20km south of Kuala Lumpur.

The skewers are served with raw onion, cooling cucumber and pressed white rice (aka ketupat) alongside a sweetish peanut sauce often with a fair hum of heat. This is slathered most popularly on small, fast-cooked beef tenderloin and chicken thigh cut into small chunks and threaded onto the bamboo skewers. Speed of cooking is essential with the small cubes to ensure the meat is still juicy but has chewy browned corners as contrast.

Willy Satay Kajang is among the Kajang's popular satay spots. Picture: Facebook/Willy Satay

The skewers have usually been rubbed before cooking with a mix of turmeric, lemongrass and perhaps garlic or onion, and for more spice there are usually tubs of spicy chilli sambal on the table. Note that sometimes the peanut sauce comes with a dollop of sambal on top so check when you order if you are a chilli-wuss.

It’s a rarity, however, that stands out. Not the skewers of deer, liver or fish but a dozen lamb satay sticks with crisp little trails of fat that are the surprise. The mix of lean meat and fat is a big point of debate between rival stores here but with these lamb skewers the fat and the little fibres of lemongrass make them.

The speed from grill to mouth is another essential – so much so that I swear the lamb sizzled when it first touched my tongue. In part this might have been due to how much my mouth had been watering during the wait.

Matt Preston found his favourite satay in the unassuming suburbs of Kuala Lumpur.

To drink, the best choice is a large refreshing glass of freshly squeezed calamansi lime juice. Looking more like a cumquat and with an orange-hued juice like a tart mandarin (it’s a hybrid of the two fruit), this citrus is prized across Indonesia and the Philippines as well.

The great joy of eating satay in Kajang is that skewers are being turned on almost every corner and, with small skewers costing about 56 cents each (around 1.60 Malaysian ringgits; bought in plates of six or more), you can afford to try a few places to find your favourite.

Start your Kajang satay crawl at the popular Willy Satay and then head to somewhere like Sate Emas Kajang, Sham Satay, Satay Putera Kajang or Restoran Sate Kajang Haji Samuri. Ask a local and they’ll usually have a definite view on where you should go – and where to avoid. There’s a pride in satay here – the skewers are set to be declared as the heritage dish of the state of Selangor. Or just look for those parked motorbikes to find yourself a choice location.

Originally published as Matt Preston has found the world's best satay sticks for 50c each