A month ago, I got a text from my aunty, asking us to go to this Malaysian restaurant called Wow Malaysia on a Saturday. Thinking it was a Malaysian Chinese restaurant, I was surprised that I’ve never heard of it before. I’m usually quite up to date with the Malaysian cuisine here, so I thought maybe it’s one of those restaurants that has been around for a long time and just didn’t gain enough traction or popularity to be known. Anyway, I wasn’t fussed. Any catch-ups with my aunty is good.

It felt almost odd not going to a brunch place on a Saturday. Go on Instagram and you will know the hashtag #saturdaysarebrunchdays. For those that don’t know, brunch is a term coined for the time of meal during breakfast and lunch. However, I think overtime, brunch in Sydney and Melbourne has evolved into a cuisine itself. Australia does not have much of their own food but I think brunch is fast becoming the essence of Australian cuisine. It is this nicely put together combination and decoration of food such as avocado, poached eggs, bacon, french toast, strawberries, salmon, mushrooms and sometimes, truffle. It used to just be eggs benedict or smashed avocado but now you also have more creative ones sprinkling Australian brunch with Asian and European influences too.

All in all, a very unique thing. I have friends who stand on benches to take pictures of their food. I have people who post on Instagram every week about a new brunch place. I have to say I’m partially guilty about this. My whole Insta profile used to be mainly just food, which prompted my friend to ask me, “Do you not do anything else other than FOOD?” I mean, it’s one of those things you enjoy, you know. You work hard all week, at the end of it, you just want to find a nice place to chill, sip a cup of coffee and have a nice decorative plate of food.

Anyway, back to that Saturday. We went to the restaurant after a badminton session. So, I was already feeling hungry. As I walked into the restaurant, it was completely not what I was expecting. The restaurant turned out to be a Malaysian restaurant serving Malay-Muslim food, with favourites such as rendang, sambal squid, keropok lekor, assam laksa, air bandung, kuih serimuka, rojak and of course, our national dish, the nasi lemak. It was this small little family ran shop which could probably fit only 20 people. Standing outside the shop, I saw my aunty sitting down and I went into to sit next to her.

I was quickly brought back to a sense of home with everyone having a Malaysian accent or speaking Malay itself. As I tasted the sambal squid that I stole from my aunty’s plate, I sensed I was in for something special. Everything that I ate after was such a joy.

I’ve tried a lot of Malaysian restaurants in Sydney but none ever quite like this. None ever making my eyes well up. None ever so close to bringing home to my taste-buds. Both my sister and I had moments of silence to ourselves as we ate the food. My girlfriend who don’t usually eat too much found herself eating more than usual too, because it was just so good.

As I ate the durian kuih later, I thought to myself, what a special special meal we are having, filled with the love of the family that runs the place and memories of home.

It made me think about all the times that my mum cooked for me. My mum, she doesn’t work outside. Her job has always been to take care of my sister and I. She wakes up in the morning, then wakes us up and sends us to school. After, she will go back home and do house chores. She will wash the clothes, iron them and fold them. My mum always made sure I had enough white shirts and that I will never find a crease on them. Even my underwear and my towels were ironed. Every now and then, I also find new clothes in my cupboard, mostly red in colour because she knows I like red.

She approached cooking with the same detail as well. A person normally spends two hours in the kitchen to prepare a meal. She easily spends 5 hours. This is because she wil cut the garlics by hand to very granular and fine pieces. She will make sure the veggies are washed thoroughly. She will always prepare 3 dishes and 1 soup for 3 people no matter what the occasion is. As she beats the egg, she makes sure there is no blood or shell in the bowl. If there is, she will painstakingly lift it out. When she cooked omelettes for the family, she will cook two types: one with onions and one without just for me ( I used to not eat onions). She will try to cook different dishes every now and then (whether it’s tomato prawns or steamed ginger and garlic fish or soya sauce pork or glutinous rice). She will also cook red bean soup as well to share with neighbours and friends.

My dad always told her that she doesn’t have to cook so much because it is just for a small family but that’s the beauty of my mother. She always does small things with a big heart and great love. She always said, “If you want to do something, do it well or don’t do it at all.”

It also reminded me of all the times that I took her cooking for granted. When asked to help out in the kitchen, I will throw my tantrum and will help out unhappily. I rather sit outside to watch TV or listen to my iPod than to help out. I would show that I was annoyed. Of course, in an Asian family, I was told to get out if I was that unhappy.

When I went back last year in November, my parents asked me what I wanted to eat. I told them that I wanted to cook with my mother and to eat at home. They looked at me going, “Really?”, to which I replied, “Yes”. So often, I take these things for granted and still do. My mum and I don’t do a lot of things together, primarily because I’m a guy and we do different things. You won’t see me doing folk dancing or making crafts anytime soon, I’ll tell you that. But this is one of the few things I know I can do with my mum. The cooking was just an excuse so that she and I can talk to each other and catch-up.

To the outside world, it may just be some simple Chinese dishes but my mum always made them with such love that it beats any brunch food from anywhere anytime. Amidst all the brunch food with the decorations and emphasis on ambience, driven by the need to take good photos and share the experience, we often forget the people right in front of us. We forget those that are eating with us too and that they matter the most.

I used to take pride in the fact that I know a thousand different brunch places but upon reflection, I don’t even go to these places more than 5 times. If I have been there, somehow, it dampens my excitement to go again because Sydney encourages this exploration culture. As there are so many places, we often want to look for the next great thing and restaurant to try but what about the ones from before? Are they not good anymore? Is the coffee bad? Why are they forgotten?

I’m so guilty of this, always looking for the next unique brunch place but forgetting what my dad used to always say to me, “It’s not about the food, it’s the company that matters.”

The people that we catch-up with over brunch and eat with are way more important than the place we are going to. The place should always just be an excuse and makes way for the real reason, which is to deepen the relationship and love between couples, families and friends.

Sometimes, every now and then, you get just that bit luckier when you stumble upon a place that also resonates with that very reason by serving its food with great love and gentle care.

And as for me, I am so lucky to have my mum that always provided with food that was filled with the most love that any child can ask for and taught me to do all things with great love.