Contrasts of greater Sydney

In the heart of what is essentially Sydney city, twenty somethings and retired couples took it easy late on Sunday afternoon, sipping coffee, browsing through the Sunday papers, making small conversation or just staring into each other's eyes. Never mind if the grounds were wet from passing showers throughout most of the day.
Vespas and like-minded motorbike models were neatly parked in front of shaven-headed men with big eyes and almost similar body hugging t-shirts. The women could be fans of the book Sex and The City, but in reality perhaps have more complex realities than anyone can imagine.

The service was not exactly top notch at this Challis Street cafe. There seemed to be a dearth of open coffee places in Potts Point. The Fratelli Fresh was lively - and so was a rather trendy Woolworths store along the main street. We sat in alfresco dining quarters where a car was driven to neatly park literally straight behind our backs. Perhaps after what we saw in front of a terrace in another part of Sydney city - when the last vestiges of the Southern Cross Drive met Flinders Street - we appreciated this precise and polite parking.

Earlier in the afternoon, we saw how bold and recklessly a man parked in a spot obviously too small for his Holden. He blatantly nudged the stationary vehicle behind by pushing it surely with the back of his car, and then did it again. I understand that this is done on Paris or New York cbd streets in the late hours of night, when one needs to park the car and urgently crash in bed - but this was inner Sydney on a Sunday afternoon.

For lunch, we had plunged into the exotic chaos and dynamics of street markets reminiscent of another place, another time. I reckoned there could have been a thousand and one things on sale - mangosteens, freshly cooked food, red cherries, kitchen ware, artificial flowers, longans, all types of gourds, various pancakes, steaming buns, pastries, cakes,recently made rice and egg noodles, bean sprouts, peaches, durians, multi-hued jellies and more. Shoppers were placed shoulder and shoulder, or back to back, as they passed by each other in narrow arcades.

The mung bean noodles I had were thoroughly mixed with savoury sauces and garnished with red chili cuts. It was expected to have difficulty to park the car but we found a spot on the top floor of the multi-storey car park. Cabramatta has a reputation in any angle you see it. There was no alfresco coffee sipping place in sight, and almost everyone there wanted to finish their business and move on. There were queues of people and vehicles. Service was quick and crowded. And even if space was really tight, I have not encountered a driver rudely pushing back another car to make way for his. Or maybe not yet.

Further Food Adventures in My Hometown

I am not particularly a fan of the fruit mix called rojak (literally "hotch-potch"). It is a concoction of thin cut slices of fruit and other crunchy stuff that is meant to deliver a heavenly sensation once inside your mouth. It delivers a heady mix of sweet, sour and savoury tastes, which can be garnished with sesame seeds, chili cuts and a unique prawn paste blend called the hay koh. Originating from Malaysia and Thailand, variations can be found in Singapore, Burma and Indonesia. It can be confronting or instantly delightful to the initiated; even though I grew up with it, I have not been endeared to this dish, though like effect of the full moon,it is said that pregnant women may suddenly develop a temporary dire for this street hawker's magic.

I fell for its charms when a cousin of mine got two packs of this delicacy from Bukit Mertajam, a bustling regional centre located on the mainland portion of Penang State (the Brits named it Province Wellesley). I immediately liked this version, from a stall labelled Or Lang Hock (Tanned Guy called Ah Hock). Ah Hock does his street vendoring business near the old Cheok Sah Cinema in downtown BM.

Hainan Town near the Penang Ferry Terminus offers mostly Straits Chinese food but has the braised mutton which I love. I dined with three long standing friends between thick pillars in a setting copying the colonial style and with a constant view of the double-decker ferries plying between Butterworth and Georgetown, comparable to the Star ferries between Central and Kowloon in Hong Kong. The spring roll peculiar to Straits Chinese cuisine (choon pniah) is deep fried, and the curry historically made for a Dutch captain (Kari kapitan) has the in-depth authenticity here. I must emphasise that judgement of Straits Chinese food can be detailed and varies from person to person.

Both cousins Ah Nai Chee and Mu Che make their own variation of the pah kor dessert soup, involving blanched and cooked almonds, all full of glory in their attractive yellow, combined with dried longans, in a clear broth. The process of readying the almonds, and ensuring that they are just soft when eaten, can be an art by itself.

It is also traditional for the Lunar New Year to have a mee suah dish, as the long thin noodles are significant to suggest wishes of a long and good life. Mum and cousin Mu Che each had them made in their homes. When lunching out with Bee's family at Goh Huat Seng (Kimberly Street, Georgetown), I also was impressed with the oyster noodles and the Chiu-Chao fashioned tofu.

On previous flights with Singapore Airlines, I had dabbled in miniature portions of the Lunar New Year salad called the yee sang and had refreshing doses of the Raffles Hotel cocktail Singapore sling. This time around, there were satisfying portions of pork in red curry and Indonesian styled fried rice served on board. It was an amicable way to bridge between the food variations of Wollongong and Georgetown, although I am sure that the curry and rice were prepared in Sydney kitchens!

Return to Eythrope

Only Yesterday


Eythrope Revisited


Approach to Eythrope


Sunrise Over Penang Hill


Penang Hill Undergrowth


Pathway to Eythrope


Lillies on a Pond


A Moment


Colonial Cannon at Penang Hill

Sign Board to Eythrope

Image Credits: K H 18 January 2009

Food Adventures in my Hometown

I could not resist the offer by the Indian vendor offering curry puffs from a banana leaf layered basket he was carrying. The potato and chicken concoction beneath the wholesome pastry, when bit into, suggested a succulence of orange-brown coloured spiciness, and when mixed with the unusual onion ring pickles, took me back to my childhood.

It was the morning before I flew to Singapore. Here I was in the heart of Georgetown, Penang, culminating my adventures of food unique to the island, a long established melting pot of various cuisines, local fusion and sea-faring delicacies. I was in the Kheng Pin coffee shop along Penang Road, which also offered Hainan steamed chicken rice with a class above and comparable to what Singapore outlets made at a higher asking price. A few days ago, across the street, I dunked crispy savoury roti pancakes into three types of curry, not as watery as in Sydney's Chinatown, but with a more solid flavour and aromatic arouser to the appetite. European back packers seemed to take an affinity to these pancakes, very easy to eat despite being under the higher humidity and stronger sun of the equatorial belt.

I have a preference for the provincial cuisine of Chiuchao in southern China, and when good friends took me to partake the Teochew-styled duck, a peppery creation doused with other blended flavours in lean cuts, I was in ecstasy! Other lunchers around us were tucking in steamboat, even during a hot afternoon outside, but I preferred the unique dishes accompanied with rice or noodles at this long running restaurant called Goh Huat Seng, another landmark restaurant in the old bustling quarter of Georgetown's so-called Chinatown district.

One thing I do not get at all in Australia's Chinatowns are the oyster omelettes inspired from Fujian province in China and which its chief city, Xiamen, readily offers. Many of the Penang Chinese have a Hokkien heritage tracing back to hundreds of years, and to be able to taste it, even if once a year, overcomes any concerns for sea pollution, high cholesterol and iodine excess.

Another evening, whilst catching up with Seng Fatt and Shirley and their two daughters, Samantha and Becky, I came across two stand-out dishes - fish curry and roast chicken - at Soon Lai, located amongst residential houses in the Green Lane area. I was more than happy to relax in a Perth-originated cafe chain outlet called Dome and liked its decor and the fact that their waiting staff had to don French styled caps as if they were beside the River Seine in Paris. As it was the Lunar New Year, I appreciated Mum's traditional insistence to have a fatt choy dish (made of braised black seaweed and other expensive but auspicious sounding named seafood) at the family dinner out. I have seen seaweed along the Wollongong coast but this was another dimension all together.

The morning after I arrived, I jumped for joy sampling the variety of food at the Campaki at Hotel Equatorial. Sea urchin, eels in marinade, California rolls and green tea ice cream came to my mind - and more. That same evening, I had my annual taste of pandan-flavoured chicken at a small, unassuming Thai cafe called Mama's in another suburban housing area. An elderly aunt always gets the family the multi-layered cake, reeking of cinnamon and vanilla,delicious but expensive. Another Lunar New Year practice is the partaking of the yee sang, an ingenious salad with salmon bits included into a heady mix of crispy and fresh thin slices of vegetable cuts, then finally stirred with various sauces, including vinegar, plum sauce and the like.

All these commercial outlets had to contend with home cooking. My sister-in-law turns out mouth watering pineapple tarts. Mum makes the most soul-stabilising kong tau yew bak ( pork in soy sauce) and sambal udang (prawn curry). My aunt Kuchai comes up with the best nasi lemak set, complete with the special curry with a kick that goes just perfect with the coconut cream flavoured rice. Then both women go neck to neck with their home-made lobak, chicken curry , fish curry and herbal soups. I actually put on an additional three kilograms in ten days. Enough said! And I have not even mentioned about the fresh garoupas from a farm off the coast in Province Wellesley, courtesy of a brother's godmother.

One Night in Singapore

Immigration officials at Changi Airport do smile.

Once out at Terminal Two arrival hall, I felt the spaciousness of clean, tiled floors protected in air-conditioned comfort by glass doors that led to what I imagined would contain a blast of humid warm air once I got out there. However, it was a balmy cool night once Karen caught up with me and walked me to the Audi A4, in which Chet was waiting. There is a certain feel about Singapore, night or day, in which the canopy of carefully planned road side trees moderate the equatorial air, lower the intensity of deep urban planning and blend in carefully with the orange-coloured sodium street lights. The double decked SBS buses proclaim adverts shouting out "Uniquely Singapore" which led the three of us to a lively discussion as to the more appropriate theme going forward to attract tourists - I nominate "Snug Singapore".

Snug because the island nation provides an orderly haven for visitors dropping by between other places. Snug as well due to the compact size of the place. Despite its size, I felt safe, calmed and structured by the reliability of language used, relative friendliness and lawful modernity. Snug because I love the variety of its shops and products. Snug due to the fact that I can cover the whole main island in one day, albeit a bit rushed and not lingering too long at any one place. Snug because I can party the whole night and yet find food and dessert late. Karen took us to a rather unusual dessert place, eating an icy cold concoction of mango and pomelo with one's choice of ice cream or jelly, sitting on a five-foot way along Liang Seah Street near Bugis Junction at 11pm. Snug because Chet could then drive to the airport in twenty minutes and I could still leisurely board my flight on time.

Chet and Karen also chose a most snug place for dinner. A former cluster of the British Army barracks, Dempsey Hill has been transformed into a lifestyle village, primarily concentrating in offering a diverse choice of dining. We settled for the Jumbo, which in my opinion, has the most delectable chili crab and gravy, the national dish, and also a rather surprising kick of southern Indian mee goreng. The live water prawns offered an inherent subtle sweetness and flavour. I compared the crispy fish that stood up tall in contrast with the deep fried flounder found in Sydney's Asian suburbs, and the latter is the winner.