Dinner, Drinks, and Drama – Masak Masak x Legends

I stood on the road opposite the pin on the address. Is this Masak Masak? Is this place even open? I couldn’t see anyone from where I was, but I crossed the road anyway.

The Masak Masak logo was small—nothing flashy—which reminded me of the owner’s humble vibe that I picked up over the weekend when I watched her on a Food Writing panel the week earlier (also the main reason I ended up booking the event for the night).

I walked in, mumbled something about being there for the event, and was shown to a single table. Before I sat down, a nearby table called out, “Do you want to join us?”

“If you guys don’t mind,” I replied. “Are you here by yourself?”

“Yeah. I wanted to come, and my partner couldn’t, so I came on my own.”

We introduced ourselves: Laura, a producer; Tasnim, a director; and Kal, an accountant. We then did the usual hoo-ha about our jobs—me to them, very deservingly—and then them to me, saying they never know what code to book invoices to without the help of their office accountant.

“Yep, that’s GL codes you’re talking about,” I was about to explain, but thankfully (for them), the food arrived.

I quickly switched gears and warned them I’d be taking photos before eating; therefore, they ought to wait for a few additional seconds.

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Makan in Masak Masak

Now I need to warn you, I don’t know the generic names of the sampler food served that evening, and I was too busy to befriend the two strangers sharing the table with me to remember to break down all that I tasted, but hopefully the pictures will do some justice.

The first course was served on three plates: a single serving of mini rice paper roll topped with pomelo for each of us, a plate of fried anchovies with a side of homemade mayo and a slice of lemon and croquettes.

We chatted about where we live, what we do for fun, and what our outside-of-work lives look like. By then, Laura was busy coordinating other patrons, stopping only for quick bites, and Tasnim was swapping food stories with me.

Then the pasta came, and Laura said a family member who’s from Germany would love it. Her excitement mirrored my own; it was the same pasta I saw and loved in Germany last year.

Earlier, I ordered the pandan coffee, and when it came, I wasn’t too happy that it wasn’t pandan green enough. Tasnim assured me it wasn’t supposed to be green. She was right, it was yummy.

My favourite was the main course. A plate of prawns, if I had to guess, was served with Padang sauce and a plate of Stracciatella Cheese, which was served with cut grapes, slices of red onions, finger-licking green sauce and drizzled with pine nuts. I love both plates equally and a bit too obsessively. Chef kiss.

The conversation continued—mostly about food and weddings. For some reason, I caught myself mentioning “my partner” twice more, and I started wondering why I felt the need to convince these two strangers that I had a partner, even though I was eating alone. I’ve done plenty of solo things before without feeling the urge to overexplain. Maybe I was just chalking it up to the fact that I wished Fafa were here. I think he would’ve liked it. So I made a mental note to take him here someday.

Dessert was durian ice cream. We asked Laura to try it and guess the flavour. She said coconut (correct) and mango (not quite). It was still so so. good

Everything tasted incredible. I’m genuinely grateful for the $45 price tag—in this economy!

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Legends

After dinner, the ever-efficient Laura herded us into taxis. I shared one with two other women who were in the middle of a diabetes conversation. Then, somehow, the topic turned to Sri Lanka. The taxi driver began describing a lavish trip he took there with his family and friends, ignoring a white woman’s repeated attempts to convince him she was 1/16 Sri Lankan. It was surreal—like listening to two podcasts about the same topic playing at the same time.

Eventually, we arrived at the Melbourne Theatre Company—a place I used to frequent for solo lunches but never once visited for a show when I worked at the Freshwater place. Oh, how life has changed.

Inside, I left my devices, got a drink, and went into the theatre. It was the smallest theatre I’ve been to in Melbourne.

Now, about the show. Admittedly, I didn’t know much going in. As a rule, I don’t usually read up on performances beforehand—I like to keep the element of surprise, whether it’s a movie or a play.

I just knew that Singaporean artists were behind it and that it had something to do with God, which is why I confused it with “Another God”, the theatre I’m seeing next week.

When I entered, I was pleasantly surprised to learn it was set in Singapore. The opening set was an HDB deck, and the story revolved around a Chinese funeral.

I was invested from the start. That’s the thing about theatre—I get to learn about different cultures in the span of an hour in a way I usually don’t with films. Despite living in Singapore for almost a decade, I still feel like an outsider. Sure, I know about burning joss paper—I’ve been forever fascinated by it—but my knowledge is limited. (Am I turning this post into a rant about never being invited to a Chinese funeral while living in Singapore? How odd… How entitled…)

Still, I learned a lot about Chinese heaven and hell, half-told folktales, and layered cultural beliefs. Not once did I check my watch. The two performers held the audience in the palm of their hands.

After the show, we took pictures with the giant head prop and headed back to Masak Masak, the original meeting point. I gave Laura my email in case she wanted the photos.

While waiting for my Uber to take me home, one of the patrons asked me something I heard as, “Did you miss the show?”

“Of course not!” I said.

He walked away half disappointed while mumbling, “But the show is good?!” and only then did I realise he had asked, “Did you enjoy the show?”

Haiz. English. Hard. Sorry.

But yes, I did. I very much enjoyed both the dinner and the show, and I would absolutely do it again.

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Update: a couple of weeks later, I brought Fafa to Masak Masak for lunch on a rainy, gloomy weekday. I got the aptly comforting Thunder Tea Rice with a side of Lemongrass Chilli, and Fafa ordered Baked Singapore Chilli Crab (because he knew I love Chilli Crab but also wanted to eat rice) with a side of homemade achar and Kopi to go. We ate in peace while discussing my bestie’s upcoming wedding. Nearing the end, I scooped a large serving of the crab, mixed it with my rice and made a delicious concoction of the two food items I love eating the most.

Writing this, I can’t help but wonder — is Masak Masak my new Gaia Cafe?

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