One of the great joys of living in Malaysia is the constant presence of food. Malaysia’s common spaces are dotted with little food stalls, part of the informal economy, usually specializing in one kind of good.
In this case, my mother and I were walking from the train station when we passed a man at the side of the road selling freshly fried kuih, Hokkien for cake and used generally to describe a small desert. This stall was not much more than an oil cloth-covered table, an umbrella, and a portable burner. For a Malaysian ringgit we picked up a small baggie full and continued on our way.
I believe we tried the round cakes in the green basket, which were a type of dough-covered seed (about the size of a buckeye), deep fried.