sentimental about food

so those who know me, food and me have an extremely intense connection. i feel personally insulted if someone tries to keep me from helping myself at the dinner table and / or when the food is positively unedible – like at ‘miso’ at world square sydney where i was served a small cold soft shell crab and stinky salmon sashimi – and the waitress does nothing about it (no free dish or discount). 

so anyway yesterday a few of us went to mamak at chinatown. sydney siders will know who incredibly popular the place is. expect to wait at least half an hour for seating ANY day of the week (but the good thing is, the food comes out fast). my expectations were pretty low given that i’ve tried other malaysian/singaporean food (temasek, kopitiam and ginger and spice) and at best they suppress my cravings. i’ve never really been blown away by any of the food. this time was different. when i put that fork full of mee goreng into my mouth, i suddenly started thinking of singapore. i started thinking about my friends there and my family and singapore in general. i suddenly felt so homesick that i was going to cry. 

it felt almost exactly like how the food critic in ratatouille felt when he ate the dish ratatouille for the first time. it was such a weird experience, one i thought was only possible in prose, not in real life.