My father was an excellent cook. Food was his passion. I remember my father always being in the kitchen. Before we left Malaysia for Sydney, my father cooked a special treat for us every weekend. He said it was to prepare our taste buds for Australia.
There was steak and chips, curried sausages, lamb roast, burgers, meat pies and barbeques galore.
“You can’t keep eating nasi lemak and char kway teow all the time! You need to try a good steak and chips!” he told us.
“You can’t keep eating nasi lemak and char kway teow all the time! You need to try a good steak and chips!” he told us.
As the airport taxi rounded the bend on Campbell Parade heading along Bondi Beach, I remember the beautiful expanse of the sand and ocean slowly coming into view. It took my breath away.
Perhaps food defines us. Where we come from, who we are and what we are about. Food is an expression of our cultural identity. Malaysia’s national dish is – a coconut rice served with curry chicken or beef, sambal prawns, vegetable pickle, deep fried anchovies with peanuts, a hard-boiled egg and cucumber.
My father once explained this dish to me after cooking it.
“Come and see! Look at this coconut rice by itself surrounded by these beautiful colourful servings of sides. Like the world. Many different people that make a whole world complete.”
James Foong. Source: Supplied by Danyal Syed
I was 17 when we arrived in Sydney 45 years ago, after my family did a stint in London. Dad left Malaysia as a teen and worked as a television and radio technician around the world. He told us that we needed a new adventure in another world.
My father told us that the national dish of Australia was the meat pie and lamb roast. He spent many hours trying to perfect his lamb roast. His version of the Aussie meat pie was a curry flavoured beef mince with lots of potatoes where he made his own pastry.
“Similar to the wonton pastry, just add more flour!” he would gleefully tell us as we watched him in the kitchen, flour all over his face as if he had been in a flour fight with the pastry.
“See you need to really smash it and knead it like this!”
He would whack and beat that poor mound of pastry with his hands until it swelled overnight in defiance.
Lamb roast, meat pies and barbeques have stood the test of time as favourites in the Australian cuisine. Australia is now also defined by so many other foods from all over the world.
My father would also often describe to us what being a good eater meant.
“A good eater is not someone that can eat a lot and never be full. No! A good eater is someone who can eat anything wherever they are in the world. Not fussy. Ai yoh... I don’t like sweet, too sour, too hot, too salty. Too ‘mar-fan’. Stay away from these people. Not adaptable!”
He would make different faces to show the different fussy eaters. My sisters and I would howl with laughter. My mother used to call him “wayang” meaning movies in Malay - in other words - stop being a showman.
Not to say, my father didn’t miss his Malaysian food too like us. Every Sunday he would do his homework reading the Good Food Guide section of the Sunday papers.
“New Malaysian restaurant in the city! We are going this weekend! Good show! Good Show!” he would exclaim excitedly.
Sometimes it would be quite exhilarating to find an old favourite dish. There were nights when we would drive home in silence after a disastrous meal.
We checked out every new opening and followed reviews. Sometimes it would be quite exhilarating to find an old favourite dish. There were nights when we would drive home in silence after a disastrous meal. Yet we put up a strong face of being 'adaptable', not daring to be one of those fussy eaters!
I have realised it is ok to crave the old from one world and enjoy the new in another; and to keep enjoying favourites between the two worlds.
Being a migrant, I have learnt resilience, patience and courage. I have observed random acts of kindness and unkindness from strangers. These people taught me how not to be, gave me lessons in tolerance and humility. It also gave me a sense to prove them wrong. Life’s lessons taught me how to be stronger and bolder and know what to do when I get knocked to the floor. I learnt to fight back and take control of my life and move forward.
Nothing like a good nasi lemak or an oven baked meat pie to ease the negative energy away.
“I have had a good life here, the best of both worlds.”
That was one of the last things my father said to me as he was dying. I will endeavour to have the best of both worlds too.
Christina Foong is a mum, a wife, daughter, sister, health-care giver, and teacher living life to the fullest. Her favourite quote is ‘to thine own self be true’.
Christina Foong Source: Supplied by Danyal Syed
This article was chosen from the 2021 SBS Emerging Writers' Competition.
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