I equate Southbank to New York’s Times Square, sans the associated glitz and glamour and with the main attraction of a waterway of human sewage.
Having encountered minimal success with Malaysian food in Melbourne after more than a decade of living here, I’d resigned myself to enjoying the dishes of my childhood when a) I visit my parents or b) fly home for my annual food pilgrimage. That is, until I found Sarawak Kitchen.
If you’ve somehow managed to avoid ‘2017 foods you absolutely CANNOT DO WITHOUT’ listicles, a poke (pronounced poh-kay) bowl is a Hawaiian delicacy that comprises raw fish either served by itself or atop warm sushi rice.
I love being part of clubs (unless it involves any participation in sporting activities), and what better club is there to be a member of than Ramen Club?
Dumbo felt like it was in the ‘burbs – mostly because I pulled out the old Journey Planner and found it’d take a bit over an hour, and in some cases a combination of three modes of transport, to get there.
A friend incredulously messaged me last week saying she was in a café that was #peaksouthside, so much so it had a DJ spinning tunes at the obscenely early hour of 10am.
There’s something about the experience of eating with your hands that is nostalgic, memorable and intoxicating all at once.