A tropical destination best known for its dense rainforests and lovely beaches, the Malaysian island of Langkawi can also claim distinct culinary identity shaped by the bounty of the sea and land.

Photographs by Mark Parren Taylor

Serving teh tarik at a restaurant in Kuah town; grilled squid at restoran Siti Fatima. — *Left to right*: Serving *teh tarik* at a restaurant in Kuah town; grilled squid at restoran Siti Fatima.

It’s a shade after 7.30 P.M. and the sun has sunk beyond the Andaman Sea, pulling a deep-navy sky down with it. The food stalls on Pantai Serama beach near Kuala Muda, a village on the west coast of Langkawi, are closing for the night. As the cooks in laksa kitchens rinse out their pots and pans, the ponies that give surfside rides to tourists are led away to their stables.

Dark now, the Melaka Strait sparkles with the lights of a thousand near-and-far squid boats, which each evening form a twinkling necklace that encircles most of the island. The fisherfolk who started pushing out from beaches and harbors as the sun got low won’t come back until about 5 a.m., when they’ll unload and tie up before the dawn. Their boats are rigged with wooden booms strung with fishbowl-size light bulbs: some white, others filtered red. They are swung out across the water to attract their catch.

The squid seem to love these waters, and the locals definitely love the squid. At points along the buzzy night market at Kuah, the main town on Langkawi’s southwestern coast, the scent of grilled squid (sotong bakar) fills the air with tantalizing, scorched aromas. One of the island’s standout dishes, it’s delicious whether brushed with tamarind-water marinade or served alongside a satay dipping sauce.

The view from Telok Nibong Beach; kuay teow noodles from a stall at Kuah’s wet market. — *Left to right*: The view from Telok Nibong Beach; *kuay teow* noodles from a stall at Kuah’s wet market.

Assigned Global Geopark status by UNESCO in 2007 for its “outstanding geological landscape,” Langkawi—the name refers to both the main holiday island and to the little archipelago that it anchors—has more than its share of natural marvels. Set 30 kilometers off the coast of northwestern Malaysia, just shy of the border with Thailand, this is a land of ancient forests and towering limestone outcroppings, beautiful beaches and a mosaic of mangroves. Rich in seafood and other local ingredients, it also makes for an intriguing culinary destination, as I discover on a weeklong exploration of the island’s markets, eateries, and food stalls.

A good place to start is Kuah Town Seafood, which occupies an unassuming building in a strip mall near Kuah’s waterfront. The restaurant is owned by Pat Heah Tan and her husband Ng Inn Leong, who have adorned the walls with black-and-white photos of the Langkawi of their youth. The menu draws on their Chinese heritage as well as Malay cookery—there’s squid with salted egg, sweet-and-sour prawns, soft-shell crab with black pepper and garlic— alongside dishes (including a firecracker tom yum soup) that speak of southern Thailand, where Tan’s parents lived before moving here.

Langkawi’s strong ties with Thailand can also be seen in the handful of Buddhist temples scattered about the predominantly Muslim island, most notably Wat Koh Wanararm on the outskirts of Kuah. But it’s on the northwest coast that Malaysia’s watery border with its neighbor comes into clear focus: the offshore islands all belong to Tarutao National Marine Park, part of the southern Thai province of Satun.

*Left to right*: The Langkawi Sky Bridge is one of the world’s longest curved suspension walkways; the owners of Kuah Town Seafood.

Peneram are Malaysia’s version of the donut; poolside at The Datai, a rainforest-ensconced resort on Langkawi’s secluded northwest coast. — *Left to right*: *Peneram* are Malaysia’s version of the donut; poolside at The Datai, a rainforest-ensconced resort on Langkawi’s secluded northwest coast.

I take in this view from The Datai Langkawi, a groundbreaking resort built by the late, great architect Kerry Hill in 1993 back when tourism here was in its infancy. Crouched on a hillside between an ancient rainforest and a long crescent of white sand, the 26-hectare property demonstrates that a luxe, get-away-from-it-all stay can go hand-in-hand with proactive sustainability and community-outreach programs. On-site water bottling, recycling, and upcycling are just some of The Datai’s initiatives in its drive to be a zero-waste, low carbon– footprint operation. Food leftovers go to nearby farms as feed or get turned into mulch for the hotel’s vegetable plots. Permaculture gardener Azrul Huzairy leads me around his herb gar – den, which occupies a sun-trap clearing in the forest. “This leaf repels mosquitoes, and that one’s good for a sore throat. Oh, and this …” he says, pointing to the pale green leaves of a curry plant, “helps with hair health. And diabetes.”

Aside from their medicinal properties, many of these herbs and spices make an appearance on the menu at the thatched-roof Gulai House, The Datai’s excellent Malaysian restaurant. Set on stilts at the edge of the forest, the kampung-inspired affair turns out takes on classic dishes like sautéed squid in a jammy onion sambal, and beef rendang made with slow-braised short ribs cooked over fire with fresh coconut milk, turmeric root, chili, and lemongrass.

Rainforest extends across the entire northwestern corner of Langkawi, from the mangroves of the Kubang Badak River up to the top of Mount Mat Cincang. To get a bird’s-eye view of the local topography, I ride a cable car to the mountain’s summit and step out on the Langkawi Sky Bridge, a 125-meter-long span suspended between two peaks. From here I can see the island’s central flatlands stretch away in a jigsaw of villages and rice paddies to the foothills of Gunung Raya, at 881 meters the highest point on the island.

*Left to right*: A traditional kampung house at Bon Ton Resort; Jamaludin Hashim in the rice paddies adjacent to his restaurant, Nasi Dagang Pak Malau.

A lily pond at The Datai; beef rendang at The Danna resort’s Planter’s restaurant. — *Left to right:* A lily pond at The Datai; beef *rendang* at The Danna resort’s Planter’s restaurant.

Gunung Raya rises over the eastern half of Langkawi with its back to the morning sun. Nonetheless, it doesn’t take long for the day’s early rays to reach over its low southern slopes and flood the steamy rice paddies of Kampung Makam Masuri, a village in the center of the island.

“It’s still magical,” says 70-year-old Jamaludin Hashim, almost to himself, as we step along a footpath meandering between lush rice fields, ready for harvest. The Kuala Lumpur native is known locally as Pak Malau, and is a considerate, erudite man. “We bought that bit of land for our restaurant about 12 years ago, knowing that the setting was exceptional—and that my wife’s nasi dagang was just as good.”

His wife, Kelantan-born Zuhariah Daud, does indeed turn out a memorable nasi dagang (trader’s rice) at Nasi Dagang Pak Malau, which inhabits a wooden house backed by paddy fields. She cooks glutinous and red rice in coconut milk with generous amounts of fenugreek and ginger, completing this signature breakfast with a choice of side dishes: unable to decide between the fragrant fish gulai (curry) and the mutton kurma, I order them both.

Later, and not far away, I find my way to Restoran Siti Fatimah, a go-to for its lunchtime buffet. Come noon, the longstanding family restaurant is filled with local patrons devouring dozens of home-style northern Malay dishes, everything from coconut chicken to salted fish curry and papaya salad, accompanied by a selection of kicking sambals. A house specialty is sup gamat, a clear soup of diced sea cucumbers boiled with a variety of herbs; the taste is mildly bitter, but aromatic. Also in the area is Dangau Langkawi, where standouts include grilled pomfret, stir-fried clams with belacan (fermented krill paste), and udang sambal petai, an addictively pungent combination of prawns and stink beans.

A bowl of sup gamat (sea cucumber soup) at Restoran Siti Fatima; a table at the Datai’s Gulai House restaurant. — *Left to right*: A bowl of *sup gamat* (sea cucumber soup) at Restoran Siti Fatima; a table at the Datai’s Gulai House restaurant.

Farmed oysters at the Kubang Badak Mangrove Reserve; a lunch spread at Dangau Langkawi includes grilled pomfret, squid with turmeric, and masak lemak. — *Left to right:* Farmed oysters at the Kubang Badak Mangrove Reserve; a lunch spread at Dangau Langkawi includes grilled pomfret, squid with turmeric, and *masak lemak*.

With its ample coastline, the Langkawi archipelago is big on shellfish. Mussels and oysters come from floating farms, such as those along the Kubang Badak estuary. Elsewhere around the island people harvest bivalves on mudflats and beaches when the tide is low. Common here are blood cockles, razor clams, and periwinkle-like sea snails.

One afternoon I hop a ferry from Kuah for the 20-minute ride to the little island of Tuba, where the jetties are lined with fishing boats. Some are kitted out with squid-enticing lamps, others are stacked with crab and lobster pots. And some hold a few well-used bamboo poles.

These are the boats of clam divers. “We work morning and evening, following the harvest through the shallows,” says a forager named Mahazir, a little breathlessly. He and his family have dropped anchor in the channel between Tuba and its neighboring island, pushing the four-meter-long poles into the seabed. The poles help steady the boats, but mostly they’re used as guides. Diving in, Mahazir and his brother Bakri use a pole to pull themselves down to the seabed, where they’ll fill their baskets with Venus clams, known here as siput gayam.

Back on the boat, wives Fishah and Hasnol are busy sorting armloads of the clattery bivalves. The brothers’ elderly mother sits at the back, enjoying the soft evening light, casually tossing a hook-and-line into waters so rich that by the time Mahazir surfaces for air, she’s snagged a couple of white croakers. Such is the bounty of Langkawi.

*Left to right:* The sun setting over the Melaka Strait; harvesting sea grapes.

Langkawi Lowdown

GETTING THERE

Langkawi’s airport serves multiple daily flights to and from Kuala Lumpur. Both Scoot and AirAsia fly to the island from Singapore.

WHERE TO STAY

Bon Ton Resort
Set on an old coconut plantation just inland from Penang each, this charming alternative to the island’s big resorts comprises eight individually styled antique Malay villas (from US$160 a night).

The Datai Langkawi
Tucked amid virgin rainforest, accommodations here feature hardwood accents and soaking tubs. Guests who want to make the most of this sustainability-minded resort’s crescent of white sand will want to plump for one of the beachside pool villas (from US$665 a night).

WHERE TO EAT

Dangau Langkawi
Located among paddy fields in the center of the island, Dangau Langkawi serves delicious Malay dishes such as fish curry and udang sambal petai (Lot 70, Mukim, Kampung Mawar).

Gulai House
For an elevated take on Malaysian cuisine, The Datai’s kampung-style restaurant is hard to beat.

Kuah Town Seafood
Chinese, Malay, and Thai influences come together at this unassuming gem of a restaurant in Langkawi’s main town (33 Persiaran Dayang, Kuah).

Nasi Dagang Pak Malau
Head to this rural eatery for bucolic views and their signature nasi dagang (186 Jl. Makam Mahsuri, Kampung Mawar).

Restoran Siti Fatimah
This family-run restaurant is rightly famed for its lunchtime buffet (Batu 5 1/4, Jl. Kampung Tok Senik, Kawasan Mata Air).

Kuah Town Night Market
The island’s largest pasar malam comes alive every Wednesday and Saturday evening, when its rows of colorful stalls fill the air with the tantalizing aromas of grilled seafood, satay skewers, noodle dishes, and countless other Malay dishes.

This article originally appeared in the December 2024/February 2025 print issue of DestinAsian magazine (“Treasure Island”).

Exploring Langkawi’s Food Culture

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