A Sunday Lunch Snapshot
It looked like representatives of the non-Malay diaspora had gathered, not over political gripes, but over the fondness of food they grew up with and which they do not have access to easily back in their homeland. There were Indians, Cantonese-speaking families, young Australian-bred Asians, Eurasians, Asians who brought their Caucasian spouses and those who articulated in the Fujian dialect. It was a cloudy Sunday outside the windows, but this contrasted with the spicy and simmering gravies, sauces and aromas of dishes created by a different generation, the originators themselves being migrants to a new land themselves.
A grandfather remained silent as he took in the hor fun, broad-based rice noodles that were braised in an egg mixture and swirling with Aussie prawns, Chinese choy sam vegetables and thin slices of fish cakes. He hardly acknowledeged the presence of his wife, who in turn had no choice but to concentrate on her food. A trendy guy of Indian origin from Leichhardt took his Aussie girlfriend to try Hainanese chicken rice and curry laksa. A big group of twelve gathered at a large table tucked away in the corner, graced by a variety of cultural backgrounds. An elderly grandmother commented unsatisfactorily about the lack of bones served with the chicken, for she felt that taste had been compromised when you do not cook with the bones intact.
Hong Kongers thrive on such Sunday lunches with their yum cha, but Chinese of South-east Asian background relish their concoctions born of the trade routes between East and West. Transposed to the Australian continental island, they now pay at least three to four times for what they used to pay back int he land of their birth. True, the servings are at least twice as large and the ingredients more fresh and appetising, but at times they wonder at what price they have paid in soul and heart for the choice of emigrating. The food they partake is consoling and mitigating, but their offspring in Australia have no memory and sentiment that their parents have. The old country may not have moved on to what they hope, but changed in character and purpose. The new nation they adopted and embraced is even more multi-cultural than the one they left.
The mostly young waiters spoke with a Malaysian accent and seemed to be students who have recently arrived from the land of birth shared with the customers. The food now transferred to Australia may have already undergone their own transformations back in the equatorial garden of their inspiration. However, here the expectations are what and how it was cooked way back in Penang, Malacca or the Klang Valley back int he eighties. What is clear is a certain sense of continuity of innovation, blending and adaptability in the dishes served. When the migrants began arriving in British Malaya about two centuries ago, they brought along ingredients and cooking traditions from China and India which have infused with local produce into the new creations that have now become classics in their own right.The descendants of such migrants have now dispersed into Western countries - and the fusion continues. Fillet of chicken enrich a bowl of curry laksa, when originally there were no such excesses in such meat offerings. The sambal kangkong comes in richer crunchiness and green of vitality, the kangkong being spinach grown in Australia, but the sambal (shrimp and chili condiments) are still made in the way required from fifty years ago.
A grandfather remained silent as he took in the hor fun, broad-based rice noodles that were braised in an egg mixture and swirling with Aussie prawns, Chinese choy sam vegetables and thin slices of fish cakes. He hardly acknowledeged the presence of his wife, who in turn had no choice but to concentrate on her food. A trendy guy of Indian origin from Leichhardt took his Aussie girlfriend to try Hainanese chicken rice and curry laksa. A big group of twelve gathered at a large table tucked away in the corner, graced by a variety of cultural backgrounds. An elderly grandmother commented unsatisfactorily about the lack of bones served with the chicken, for she felt that taste had been compromised when you do not cook with the bones intact.
Hong Kongers thrive on such Sunday lunches with their yum cha, but Chinese of South-east Asian background relish their concoctions born of the trade routes between East and West. Transposed to the Australian continental island, they now pay at least three to four times for what they used to pay back int he land of their birth. True, the servings are at least twice as large and the ingredients more fresh and appetising, but at times they wonder at what price they have paid in soul and heart for the choice of emigrating. The food they partake is consoling and mitigating, but their offspring in Australia have no memory and sentiment that their parents have. The old country may not have moved on to what they hope, but changed in character and purpose. The new nation they adopted and embraced is even more multi-cultural than the one they left.
The mostly young waiters spoke with a Malaysian accent and seemed to be students who have recently arrived from the land of birth shared with the customers. The food now transferred to Australia may have already undergone their own transformations back in the equatorial garden of their inspiration. However, here the expectations are what and how it was cooked way back in Penang, Malacca or the Klang Valley back int he eighties. What is clear is a certain sense of continuity of innovation, blending and adaptability in the dishes served. When the migrants began arriving in British Malaya about two centuries ago, they brought along ingredients and cooking traditions from China and India which have infused with local produce into the new creations that have now become classics in their own right.The descendants of such migrants have now dispersed into Western countries - and the fusion continues. Fillet of chicken enrich a bowl of curry laksa, when originally there were no such excesses in such meat offerings. The sambal kangkong comes in richer crunchiness and green of vitality, the kangkong being spinach grown in Australia, but the sambal (shrimp and chili condiments) are still made in the way required from fifty years ago.
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