Immersive Eating in the Borneo Jungle

Wild fern stir fry, smoked deer soup, heirloom rice – the foods of Sabah in North Borneo are unlike anything you’ve ever tasted.

Borneo has long been a destination of choice for nature-seeking enthusiasts. The opportunity to see an orangutan in the wild or scuba dive amongst vivid coral reefs brings in millions of tourists per year. But for those that come and go without indulging in Borneo’s burgeoning culinary scene, they miss out on experiences like no other.

My exploration of the island’s gastronomic offerings began in Kota Kinabalu, or KK as the locals call it. KK is the capital city of Sabah, a Malaysian state in north Borneo. Like many tourists, my perception of the region was largely shaped by David Attenborough documentaries. I knew more about the dietary preferences of pangolins than people.

To rectify my ignorance, I headed to OITOM, a fine dining restaurant that celebrates local indigenous cuisine. The restaurant takes its name from the word ‘black’ in the language of the Kadazan-Dusun tribe. Unlike the demographics of peninsular Malaysia, which boasts a majority Malay population, the people of Sabah are majority indigenous. It’s a diverse mix of more than 30 different ethnic groups, Kadazan-Dusun being the largest.

OITOM is like a theatre without curtains to separate the kitchen from the dining area. The chefs are in full view, dancing through the service in choreographed perfection, providing myself and the other patrons with both dinner and a show.  Head Chef Raphael Lee has conceived a degustation menu that blends indigenous culinary traditions with modern fine dining flare.

The meal opened with Lee’s take on hinava, a traditional cured fish dish. Lee’s version used flower prawn cured with sake rather than the usual lime juice, giving the dish a refreshing but punchy flavour.

This was followed up by a version of linopot, a rice dish that’s usually wrapped in leaves. Lee removed the leaf from the plate altogether, perhaps as not to obscure the beras lujuh heirloom rice that took centre stage next to the sambal made of tuhau, a wild ginger native to Sabah. It was light, but earthy, with a tangy aroma from the sambal.

The meal at OITOM was a mighty introduction to the cuisine of Sabah. Yet it left me with a lingering stress – I had much to learn! Each ingredient and dish had an echo of other South East Asian cuisines but with an unfamiliar Bornean spin. If I wanted to learn more about these flavours, I needed to go to the source of the food. I needed to go into the jungle.

I joined a tour with Borneo Outback to explore the region of Sapulut in Sabah’s hilly jungle interior. The brochure pointed to the very best of adventure tourism – longboat rides down rivers, splashing through subterranean rivers and scaling vertical cliffs. But the tour had broader goals.

The community-led tourism operation was started by Dr Richard Gunting, who grew up in Sapulut, home to the indigenous Murut community. Dr Gunting saw how illegal logging and modernisation destroyed the natural environment and threatened traditional culture. His solution to reverse the trend was ecotourism, which would introduce tourists to the wonders of both the jungle and Murut culture and therefore, incentivise the conservation of both. The project was summed up to me with an old Murut saying – Land is life.

Between boat rides and rock climbs, I was introduced to the traditions of Murut culture, often through food. One morning, my hosts took me into the jungle for a stroll. It was just ten minutes until we arrived at a patch of wild fern called pakis, which they had cultivated. The jungle floor was covered in the verdant green of their tender leaves. We picked the young, soft tips and brought them back to the kitchen, where the chefs gave them a quick stir fry with salt to make a simple side dish. The wild fern was served with rice, roast pork and a stir fry of young, shredded papaya. The freshness of the fern tips was apparent with every bite. They were crisp, lightly sweet and carried the freshness of morning rain.

The dishes, however, were more than just new, delectable flavours. Embedded within each meal was a story about the local culture and the rhythm of jungle life. Take bosou, for example, a tangy fish condiment, which was served at most meals. Bosou is made by fermenting chunks of fish with salt and rice. This dish, often remarked as a favourite amongst my hosts, likely evolved as a way to preserve abundant catches of fish, no mean feat in the hot and humid climate.

Then there was the smoked deer, served to me as both a stir-fry and, more interestingly, as a soup, where chunks of meat were added to a stockpot of water and winter melon to make an addictive smoky broth. The principle deer ingredient is prepared by gently toasting hunks of game over an open fire. The smoking technique is essential for hunters who often embark on multi day treks. If a wild boar or deer is caught early, the meat is smoked to kill bacteria and prevent spoilage before it can be carried back home.

Never before had I experienced such complete culinary immersion – to eat wild ferns next to where they grew, to enjoy fish beside the river they were caught and to sample deer hunted in the very jungle I was in. Through these meals, I learnt that Murut cuisine is firmly rooted in the natural environment; one cannot survive without the other. The food and culture represented the very essence of the Bornean jungle and by the end of the trip, I began to understand, land is life.

When tourists go to Malaysia, they almost always say the same thing – “the food was amazing!”. But for tourists that only spend time around the capital of Kuala Lumpur and the surrounding cities of Peninsular Malaysia, they miss out on the full breadth of Malaysia’s gastronomic experiences. The food of Sabah is a world-view changing experience that can only truly be savoured in the heart of the jungle.