What People Drink in Malaysia: 6 Traditional Alcoholic Beverages

Malaysia’s drinking traditions reflect a tropical nation split between Peninsular Malaysia and Borneo, with rainforests, rice-growing valleys, and coconut-lined coasts shaping what ends up in the cup. Indigenous Dayak and Kadazan-Dusun communities ferment rice; coastal villages tap palms; Chinese settlers brought rice wines used in cooking and ceremony.

Religion and local laws influence where alcohol is sold, yet communal hospitality thrives—especially during harvest festivals such as Gawai Dayak in Sarawak and Kaamatan in Sabah. Expect farmhouse ferments served in bamboo, aromatic rice wines simmered into soups, and fresh palm toddy poured the same day it’s tapped.

Tuak is Borneo’s emblematic rice wine, central to Iban, Bidayuh, and other Dayak communities in Sarawak. Made from glutinous rice, water, and ragi (a mixed starter of yeast and molds), it ferments in clay jars or food-grade tubs for weeks to months. The result is a cloudy, lightly effervescent wine typically around 8–15% ABV, though stronger batches exist. Aromas lean to steamed rice, tropical fruit esters, and a soft lactic tang; flavors range from honeyed and floral to gently sour depending on age and sugar. Tuak anchors social life—offered first to guests, poured during weddings and naming ceremonies, and flowing at Gawai Dayak (June 1–2) to mark the rice harvest. While most is homemade, you can taste tuak at longhouses by prior arrangement and in Kuching’s craft-forward bars and weekend markets, where producers bottle small batches. It’s usually served at room temperature in shot glasses or bamboo cups, sipped slowly while stories travel around the ruai (communal verandah).

In Sabah, the Kadazan-Dusun ferment glutinous rice into lihing using sasad, a local starter culture of wild yeasts and molds. Fermented in earthenware jars or glass, lihing matures from a few weeks to several months, settling into a golden, semi-sweet wine with 10–20% ABV. Expect a honeyed nose, notes of pandan and ripe banana, and a rounded, warming finish. Lihing is integral to Kaamatan, the May harvest festival that thanks the rice spirit; it’s sipped in communal rounds and also used in home cooking—most famously in sup manuk lihing (chicken soup with lihing). Production remains largely small-scale and household based, though licensed bottlers operate in and around Kota Kinabalu. You’ll find lihing at cultural villages, community events, and specialty shops; it’s typically enjoyed in the evening with simple snacks like fried rice crackers or smoked fish. The humid, equatorial climate encourages fast fermentations, so many makers store jars in cooler, shaded rooms and rack the wine carefully to keep it bright and clean.

Langkau is the potent cousin of tuak—an unaged, clear spirit distilled from well-fermented rice wine. Families assemble simple pot stills from metal kettles or purpose-made boilers, condensing vapors through coiled tubing cooled with water. The first run is often redistilled for clarity and strength, yielding a spirit commonly 35–60% ABV. Proper cuts matter: the head (foreshots) is discarded; the clean heart is collected for drinking. Langkau smells of steamed rice, white pepper, and light tropical fruit; the palate is dry, slightly oily, with a brisk finish akin to a rustic eau-de-vie. It appears at important gatherings, especially in rural longhouses, and is sometimes infused with forest herbs or gingers for medicinal-style digestifs. While much production is informal, you can encounter legit pours at cultural performances and select bars in Kuching that spotlight Bornean craft spirits. Langkau is typically served neat in tiny glasses, occasionally chilled, and shared sparingly given its strength and the social etiquette of toasting elders first.

Tapai is a family of fermented staples—usually glutinous rice (tapai pulut) or cassava (tapai ubi)—made with ragi tapai. The process steams the base, cools it thoroughly, mixes in powdered starter, and ferments it in covered jars or banana-leaf parcels for two to four days at tropical room temperatures. The result is a sweet, softly alcoholic pudding with fragrant syrup pooling at the bottom; the liquid can be pressed and diluted into a light wine, roughly 5–12% ABV depending on duration and sugar. Aromas suggest pandan, jackfruit, and sake lees. Across Sabah and Sarawak, tapai is both food and ferment—the base for lihing or tuak if left to run longer. In Peninsular Malaysia, short-fermentation tapai is commonly served as a festive dessert, while extended ferments are enjoyed in private, community contexts. You’ll find versions at markets in Kota Kinabalu and Kuching, and occasionally at seasonal stalls in Kuala Lumpur. Tapai is best eaten cool as a treat; the wine-like runoff is sipped in tiny portions, especially in hot weather.

Toddy is Malaysia’s classic palm wine, produced by tapping the spadix of coconut or nipa palms and collecting sap that begins fermenting within hours. The fresh, milky liquid turns lightly effervescent and tart as wild yeasts work, typically reaching 4–7% ABV the same day. Flavorwise, expect coconut water sweetness, yogurt-like tang, and a faint breadiness. The drink’s modern footprint traces to the colonial era, when Indian laborers maintained estates and ran licensed toddy shops; today, you can still find straightforward, day-fresh pours around Kuala Lumpur and Klang in the Klang Valley, and in Penang. Tapping happens at dawn; the best time to drink is late morning to early afternoon before acidity spikes. Some shops serve toddy chilled in glass mugs with spicy snacks, and cooks use it to leaven or flavor batters for appam-style pancakes. Along mangrove coasts, nipa sap is also collected seasonally; when fermented instead of boiled into syrup, it yields a delicately saline toddy prized on hot, humid days.

Brought by Fuzhou (Foochow) migrants, this distinctive red rice wine is a pillar of Chinese-Malaysian kitchens in Sarawak and parts of the Peninsula. Steamed glutinous rice is inoculated with crushed red yeast rice (Monascus purpureus) and wine yeast, then fermented for three to six weeks. The cap of red lees (ang chow) settles, leaving a ruby wine typically 12–18% ABV with aromas of red fruit, soy, and malt. It’s the soul of confinement foods and celebratory dishes like chicken mee sua in Sibu, and it seasons stir-fries and broths in Sitiawan and Kota Kinabalu. Families still make small batches at home, though licensed bottles are sold in Chinese grocers. The wine is sipped in tiny glasses at Lunar New Year or birthdays, often warmed slightly to lift its umami-rich bouquet. In markets and restaurants from Sibu to Kuala Lumpur’s Chinese enclaves, ask for ang jiu or ang chow wine; some eateries will pour a nip alongside the dish it flavors, linking kitchen and cup in one tradition.