Laksa Ayam with Shirataki Noodles

I don’t remember exactly when my mother was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes, but I do remember her doctor’s culturally insensitive comment: “Eat less rice.”

Ma was frantic. How could she not eat rice—the staple food of her childhood—at every meal? To emphasize her point, she recalled an Indonesian saying: “If you don’t eat rice, you haven’t eaten yet.”

This may sound overly dramatic but to Indonesians (and in many other Asian cultures), rice is an essential and filling food—the blank canvas to accompany delicious turmeric-tinged fried chicken and tofu, flavorful soups and Indonesian cuisine’s shining star, beef rendang. Everyone’s favorite, chicken satay, is served with compressed rice cakes (ketupat or lontong).

Being the good daughter—and curious food writer—I am, I decided to do some research to give Ma some options. I discovered that, with a few tweaks, our traditional Indonesian diet fits well with a diabetes meal plan. First off, I advised her to eat red or brown rice, and if she really has a craving, to have small portions of white rice. We already consume an abundance of plant-based products. In fact, one of Ma’s favorite dishes, gado gado, is basically a dish of raw and cooked vegetables tossed with a sauce made with nutrient-rich peanuts. Instead of animal protein, we look to other sources. We eat a lot of eggs, tofu and tempeh, a protein-packed fermented soy product (and an Indonesian original) that may help improve insulin resistance. A 2023 study in Food Science & Nutrition showed that tempeh improved blood glucose in diabetic mice, although more research is needed in humans to confirm.

When I was recently diagnosed with prediabetes, I was not surprised at all. According to the Department of Health and Human Services, Asian Americans are 40% more likely to be diagnosed with diabetes than non-Hispanic whites. And with Ma living with diabetes, I didn’t stand a chance. That said, my reaction wasn’t quite as melodramatic as Ma’s. Having lived in the U.S. for over 20 years, I have grown accustomed to eating a diverse diet. In other words, I won’t die if I don’t eat white rice.

While I’ve found it easy to replace my white rice intake with fiber-rich brown rice and even quinoa, finding a sub for Asian noodles has been a little challenging. I don’t enjoy the chewy texture of Asian-style brown rice noodles. Plus, their nuttiness doesn’t play well with aromatics like lemongrass, galangal and lime leaves. This is especially true of one of my favorite noodle dishes, laksa.

Many variations of laksa are found throughout Indonesia, Singapore and Malaysia. But the standard dish contains two components: noodles, usually thick or thin rice noodles; and broth that’s always spice-rich, sometimes with coconut milk, sometimes not. Toppings include chicken, shrimp or fish. Growing up, I ate laksa ayam—thin rice noodles and shredded chicken bathed in a coconut broth spiked with turmeric and lemongrass, and garnished with lemon basil leaves (daun kemangi). Since Indonesians don’t blink an eye at piling carbs on carbs, slices of compressed rice cakes are sometimes added too.

Determined to enjoy my childhood laksa ayam, I set out to create a dish that’s lighter on carbs but not on flavor. The first thing to go was the rice noodles, and I definitely was not adding rice cakes. I thought to use mung bean threads (or glass/cellophane noodles) instead. However, the transparent noodles belie their carb load. Just like rice vermicelli, they are almost 100% carbohydrates!  When I came across shirataki noodles, made with a root vegetable called konjac yam and water, I whooped for joy. Low in carb and calorie count, these also contain fiber and absorb the flavors of whatever they’re cooked with nicely.

Indonesian spice pastes often contain candlenuts (kemiri) to add body and creaminess. To make my laksa without sacrificing mouthfeel, I decided to use an easier-to-find substitute, macadamia nuts, which are similar in flavor and fat content. The resulting laksa ayam with shirataki noodles is a close-enough facsimile. And it’s just the first in a series of comfort food adaptations to fit in with my new normal—no drama necessary!