The stingray goes by many names in Singapore. In Malay, it is ikan pari (“fairy fish”), while in Chinese it is sometimes known as mogui yu (“devil fish”) —the stingray thus finds itself simultaneously embodying a whimsical fairy and a monstrous devil. Historically, rays turned up on the fish market as by-catch and were much less valued compared to other species of fish. In the eye of the casual observer, this cartilaginous creature might seem like an odd choice for a gourmet delicacy; yet sambal stingray has risen to earn a place in the revered ranks of iconic Singaporean hawker dishes.
What if we were to take this dish apart? What if we were to trace the origins of its ingredients? I suggest that sambal stingray, as assembled from various land flora and oceanic fauna found throughout Island Southeast Asia, is a portrait of our region and its unique geographies. Nine photographs have been woven together in this photo essay to showcase this hawker dish and spotlight five of its essential components: stingray, sambal, cincalok (Traditional Southeast Asian condiment made of fermented shrimp), calamansi and the banana leaf.
Many ray species found in coastal waters across the Indo-Pacific region are often used as food fish. Apart from having a contemporary presence in fish markets, illustrations and photographs of stingray also appear in old natural history books, such as C.N. Maxwell’s 1921 book Malayan Fishes which documented food fish from the Clyde Terrace Market in Singapore.
The sambal used in the preparation of sambal stingray is often an art in itself. Sambal is a loanword of Javanese origin, referring to a paste made with a base of ingredients such as red chilli, dried chilli, belacan (a paste made of shrimp fermented with salt), garlic and shallots. Sambal is widely used in Indonesian, Malaysian and Singaporean cuisine and depending on the secondary ingredients and how it is used, dominant flavours in sambal will vary. For time-starved home cooks, sambal can be easily acquired from the supermarket.
Hawker stalls selling barbecued stingray often prepare their own sambal from scratch – the unique flavour and aromas of a stall’s sambal can be enough to warrant repeat visits. Sambal is spread on top of the stingray meat before it is put onto the grill. As the heat cooks the meat, it also enhances the fragrance of the sambal.
Beside the sizzling hotplate of sambal stingray, one will find a small dish of cincalok, which is a Malaysian condiment made of udang geragau (a colloquial Malay term for the Acetes shrimp) fermented with rice and salt. This dipping sauce is often paired with a fresh calamansi lime, its vibrant green contrasting beautifully against the pale pink of the udang geragau. This lime variety is widely used across Southeast Asia, such as in Filipino, Malaysian and Indonesian cuisine.
A dish of sambal stingray is incomplete if it is not presented atop a banana leaf, slicked with oil and charred from the barbeque flames. This banana leaf brings another layer of complexity to the flavours and cultures in a dish of sambal stingray.
While roadside banana leaves sellers have become an obsolete sight in Singapore, one can still buy banana leaves from wet markets and supermarkets. The banana leaf is versatile, used both as an aromatic ingredient and as a serving plate in South Indian and Southeast Asian cuisine.
With these banana leaves, alongside sambal, the calamansi, cincalok and stingray, all of which are used in dishes across Southeast Asia, we can view sambal stingray in a new light. More than an icon of cosmopolitan Singapore, this dish is a unique microcosm of the culinary worlds of Island Southeast Asia.
