On any given bright Saturday afternoon, when the working week is over, I tend to look to the promise of the yielding, infinite goodness of the weekend proper to entice myself from home and the daily humdrum. ‘Let’s do something exciting’, I recall telling myself, ‘This weekend needn’t be as aimless as the last!’.
During moments of procrastination in the working office, my mind (and I’m sure yours does, too!) tends to imagine the ‘what ifs’ and the ‘if only’ scenarios, lost in dreaming mode, while those stolen glimpses outside the window remind me of the fresh air and sunshine that I am totally missing out on. The reality is, when you have exhausted and over-exerted your mind in search of something novel and interesting to prepare and have emptied your wallet in a Thursday evening grocery shop, it seems only fair that someone else should take the responsibility to cook. And why shouldn’t we have a break? Day-to-day, you think only of the mounting obligations arising from home and work and find yourself lost for energy and ideas and lacking the impetus to even open the fridge and put together some ragtag of ingredients.
Tired of the myriad of Thai restaurants along your streets cafe strip? The local Chinese takeaway store closed or the gourmet pizza bar leaving you out of pocket? It’s time to forget such worries that have taken hostage of our mind. There’s good news to be had in saying that there is no need to dash for the local saloon or the midnight bar for pub grub, for a different kind of watering hole in town, one that won’t leave your stomach wanting for exercise after a few drinks, your brain wanting for stimulation after some awkward smalltalk and your tastebuds craving for an after-dinner mint.
Look no further than Malay-Chinese Takeaway, a genuine-to-recipe laksa oasis moulded after the Singaporean/Malaysian hawker-centre style of eatery, located on Hunter Street in the heart of Sydney City. It’s a tiny trek to take up a climbing hill, dodging suits and briefcases along the way, and the queue outside the restaurant is somewhat daunting in erratic Spring weather. Nevertheless, with the expectation of formalities aside, it’s up to you to pull up a seat and watch the ceiling fans circulate the steam from pots and pans or, while waiting, to be hypnotised by the stirring beads of sweat pouring from the brows of those braving the fronts of extra chilli with their soup.
Don’t expect waitstaff to serve your every whim in this informal setting nor a cordial response to some banal chatter from the cooks behind the scenes; simply place your order to to the staff behind the counter, take a seat and wait merely a few moments for your food to arrive. It’s as good as it gets. There is enough seating and such a broad variety and demographic of soup-slurpers that you needn’t worry about arriving in your flipflops and singlet top. In fact, your mother will be thankful that the stains from the curry powder used extensively in the food, won’t leave a mark on that favourite silk tie.
You’re bound to be pleasantly surprised by the skinless chicken laska ($9.20) with healthy chunks of ingredients and a savoury chicken-broth bite, or perhaps the king prawn laksa ($11) that fills the palate with a delightful likeness to a seafood marinara. Of course, the title of the restaurant is really a dead giveaway to the variety of dishes available, including the delicious and rather famous Hainanese chicken rice ($8.20), chicken, beef, prawn and satay varieties of Malaysian curries brought in excellent taste and spice (ranging from $7.10 to $11.60) and even a handful of fried noodles, such as the personal favourite char kway teow ($9).
Within minutes, you are hailed to the counter and drawn to a delicious speciality dish. Feeling game? Give a try to one of the mouthwatering weekly specials.
At a modest average of ten dollars, you can drown your worries in a porcelain bowl beaming with coconut milk soaked in crimson chilli jam, ornate with flotsam of prawns, noodles, beansprouts and shredded cabbage. When you’re done or perhaps only half-way through, surrender your chopsticks to your bowl and succumb to a slur: it’s almost expected that you will soak up the ambience of chatter and the chiming of bustle from the kitchen and have a chat with your nearest neighbour.
Why shouldn’t you have a break? Day-to-day, you think only of the mounting obligations arising from home and work and find yourself lost for energy and ideas and lacking the impetus to even open the fridge and put together some ragtag of ingredients. But mental and physical exhaustion should never stop the avid culinare from an appreciation of good food consisting of a great variety, zest and substance. While it might not be as alluring as a sweet-and-salty Katong laksa, it’s definitely in a league of its own that is well worth the wait and the return visit.
Shop 1, 50-58 Hunter St, Sydney NSW 2000
phone: 9231 6788
fax: 9231 6799
website: www.malaychinese.com.au
Open: Monday to Friday 11am-7.30pm
Saturday 11am-6pm
Sunday Closed
A major fault of mine that I have battled for as long as I can remember and still haven’t shaken is that inherent sense of reservation about approaching and simply asking. Perhaps it is the fear of being ridiculed for having asked, the fear of a response that is unexpected. It is a bit tragic really, considering how important it is to query; it’s one of those great gifts of humankind that helps us overcome particular instances of uncertainty with a usual binary response: yes or no. Of course, it’s always harder to ask when the request is something larger than the words itself. Thankfully, today marked a positive step in the right direction. In fact, it was a positive few steps in the opposite direction. And as it would seem, sometimes we need to backtrack and re-analyse our actions with a pattern of fresh thinking to get the results we really want.
We decided on a fond and chilly afternoon to take a stroll. The world was our oyster – at this point in time, our ‘conquered’ world spans the length of familiarity of the local neighbourhood and a bit further beyond. Today was a time to take a few snapshots of the turning liquid amber leaves and to capture a bit of fresh air. Never in a million lifetimes were we expecting the idiosyncratic unexpectedness that is endemic to the suburban town. Where else would you find the spirit of the joie de vivre in its nativity?
Whoever once remarked that the words “fast” and “food” should never exist in the same sentence unless they are referring to some mass-produced, artery-clogging gruel, was sorely mistaken of the changing reality of takeaway. Once upon a time the idea of McDonald’s as a family restaurant might have held a grain of truth, but there is no denying the fact that in this modern day, we are simply too health-conscious to place the big corporations at the bottom of our food triangle for most eaten foods. Let’s face it: one Big Mac alone would be enough to make a two hour gym session seem obsolete, so the majority of us would rather steer clear. Another problem is that many of us are sick to death of the traditional salad for the health option – no matter how you might jazz up those limp leaves of baby cos, there is no denying the hungry horde their desire for something more substantial.
Sydney is particularly blessed in the respect of its rather haughty cultural diversity array, with many young and otherwise experienced entrepreneurs either finding their roots or seeking a greater stake of the market in this great southern capitol. New and migrating businesses, as well as the employees of the booming trade, both reap the benefits of a favourable climate of open-minded customers keen to expand their horizon, keen to fill their growing stomachs with a penchant for foreign tastes, a favourable market of current low interest rates and building leases that accommodate from as much as al fresco and veranda dining to closed-setting shopfronts and more. The visitors and residents are not limited to their choice of cuisine; in a single metropolitan street alone, it is possible to sample many of the cuisines of South-East Asia and Europe, the Middle-East and even many restaurants serving the specialities of the countries of contential Africa.
Despite how it may appear, there is light at the end of the tunnel: it is possible to find lunchtime cuisine that is a balance of nutrition and edibility, that is well within a decent price bracket and will ensure a consistent flow of your business and satisfaction in a ratio that will make you smile. If this sounds like your cup of tea, that I prithee that you read on.
It was during one of my earlier visits to The Rocks, during a time when I had not fallen in love for either the place or the person who introduced me. At that time, there was naught but a guiding sense of adventure, energy fuelled by a kind of wanderlust for seeking out sweet treasures buried beneath the sallow sandstone promenade. We followed the beaten track – a skinny winding bend from Circular Quay – finding our bearings at a pedestrian crossing that was obscured by the scurrying feet of seagulls. We pressed on, choosing to ignore the crowds and the raging heat. We were on a mission against all odds, a mission in seeking satiety, whether from a mysterious ‘death by chocolate’, or perhaps a vision of being caught in a fantastical maze of tart berries. Indeed, I had heard many tales about this divinely inspired patisserie. Before long, the answer to our summer dreaming was found in the most unassuming of places and summoned as a boon to our hankering appetite for petite treats.
As with any major city in the world, you could probably mention their home specialties and turn-offs from the top of your head: Naples has its pizza and its gypsies, London has its double-decker buses and infamous weather, New York with its skyscrapers and unpleasantly rude locals. But no matter what bad things we hear or say about capital cities, we all pledge to visit them someday and tell our friends and family all about it. So, what about Sydney? What is the shining jewel and the pitfall of the city that stands out above all else?
That’s just the thing: the major city of Oz is so difficult to fault by visitors that the traffic keeps coming back. Sure, there’s cricket and football and television and music and a myriad of other elements to talk about when asked about Sydneysider’s pastimes (not to mention to the deplorable transport system and the congested roads), many of which shared with other nations.
With its proximity to seven beaches and a UV index almost permanently stuck to ‘Extreme’ in the summertime, it is perhaps not suprising that the true jewel of Sydney is as dime-a-dozen as they come: the good ol’ fashioned fish and chips. Take a ride by the coast, stop by any of the beaches and you will be inundated with the number of shopfronts all offering their house specialty, their home recipe, their winning catch or boasting their proximity to the sea. What makes for a truly wonderful dish of fish and chips is difficult and highly sought after by visitors and locals alike: the quality of preparation, the freshness of the catch and how clean the fry before serving to you. Combining these tenets into a mantra in their daily operations, Ocean Foods on Lyons Road, Drummoyne has much muscle to flex and a plethora of awards with which to emphasise their credibility and success. For over 10 years in a row, this gem of the west has stunned the local council food competitions with successive medal wins and featured in a variety of press coverages online and in print. And there’s little doubt in my mind as to why. If you’re keen to hear about the best of the foods of the deep blue, scroll down and pucker up your appetite!
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