They say it’s impossible to fake a smile.
Sure, your lips might point skyward and your cheeks may ache from the effort, but anyone looking carefully will most certainly detect something missing. A glint in the eyes. An involuntary crinkle of the nose. The subtle signs of contentedness. Humor. Joy.
Birthdays (not mine) are exciting occasions. An excuse to spoil your nearest and dearest without the additional barrier of “pai sei” that usually comes with.
(“pai sei” – hokkien. Also known as that awkward attempt to deferentially and only semi-wholeheartedly decline a gift because it would lead to an inequality in the friendship wherein one person is supposedly taking more than they have given and no, I couldn’t possibly accept that because the world may explode as a result. Truly. I’m doing it for your own good. Oh you really want me to have it? Well thanks then, I will. Hm.)
…continue reading burnt salted caramel & honeycomb ice-cream
It was the winter of 1985 when my grandfather first came to Sydney.
Brusque winds and chilly air greeted him and my grandmother as they stepped out of the airport and into my parents’ waiting car. They were here to visit their granddaughter. The first of many. But one that would (unlike her Malaysian born grandparents, parents and cousins) be brought up as an Australian.
English speaking. Sun loving. Culturally reverent. Food obsessed.
“You get a birthday! And you get a birthday! You’re all getting birthdays!”
(I’ve clearly been watching way too much Oprah.)
“But, err, it’s not my birthday” I can hear all but one-in-every-365 of you saying. “I mean, I’ll take the presents and all, but…”
I should explain.
“Where’s the durian?”
I remember, oh so clearly, the moment in which I realised that being in Malaysia did not automatically equate visiting the source a tropical fruit free for all. (I know, this post is titled mango supreme and not durian supreme, but bear with me, it’ll make sense soon). And the cause of this tropical-fruit-dearth? Wet season.
Wet, hot, humid season. High point for shoppers everywhere, as stores make the most of the government allocated “sales season”. Low point for travellers who had high hopes of durian, mangosteen and rambutan.
(You can, of course, buy durian for the obscene price of RM22 per kilo, but it will be of the susu variety and not even half as shiok as you hoped it would be).
