ON A RECENT trip to George Town, I took a break after an afternoon of wandering the narrow streets to sit down in a coffee shop when I stumbled on an issue of Penang Monthly. An article by Carolyn Khor caught my eye and I felt compelled to react to it. The title is what drew me in—“Who Gets to Cook Penang’s Iconic Dishes”. Since I am a chef and restaurant owner in Montréal, Québec, Canada who specialises in cooking these dishes, I felt I could definitely relate to the article’s point of view. I was surprised to read about a call to regulate who would be allowed to re-create these hawker favourites. I would have to say that I agree with Ms. Khor’s point of view, and would be willing to say that imposing restrictions on who is allowed to cook them could set a dangerous precedent, and even be counter-productive to the preservation of these treasured specialties.

Let me give you a bit of background and context to my situation and point of view.

I am born in Canada to a Chinese Singaporean mother and a Polish father. I was exposed to eating at a young age since both my parents were “foodies”, and I have been travelling back to Southeast Asia since the age of six. Most of Mom’s family is still in Asia, split between Malaysia and Singapore. As you can guess, they all love to eat. The debate between who has the better Char Koay Teow, chilli crab or kaya toast has been a discussion since I was a child. Who owns these dishes? On what side of the border were they created? I am not a food scholar, but to my understanding these “tze char” icons all came out of straits colonies under British Malaya, so to me, the country of Singapore was not even established, hence their roots are from the Malay peninsula, not a specific country. Don’t quote me on that, I am just a simple cook.

My point is I chose to pay homage to my roots by opening a Southeast Asian-influenced restaurant in Canada with my brother, called Satay Brothers. We always loved hawker-style food, and there was nothing here even close to what we experienced in Asia. We wanted to bring these flavours to North America to expose local Canadians to the food we grew up with and loved. Are we allowed to cook these dishes? Some Asian expats seemed skeptical at first to see Caucasians on the wok frying up Mee Goreng or serving Laksa Lemak. Are we authentic?

What is authenticity once you displace the dish from its terroir? At first, we had trouble finding some key pieces and had to smuggle them in ourselves—belacan is not a common ingredient in Québec! My Mee Rebus has no candlenuts since I can’t find any locally. I stand by our food, and travel back regularly to see family and can compare. The food we adopted and have recreated, these Penang and Malaysian staples, are on point.

After 15 years of hard labour, we have established a clientele in my home town that recognises these dishes that were not available before. Wouldn’t it be a shame that they would not have been able to experience our style of food? Some clients can now order a Satay “Ayam” or get a “Kueh Salat”.

When I first started creating this menu, that notion of whether I am allowed to cook this food came to my mind. The notion of cultural appropriation was a hot button discussion 15 years ago. One of my suppliers told me I was not Chinese enough. I am glad that we did not believe the hype and continued with our dream. The restaurant has done well and we are still going strong.

The idea of having only a select few gatekeep these recipes bugs me. I don’t understand how anyone would think this is a way of preserving these dishes. Everyone I have trained in my restaurant from the recipes I adapted for a local clientele—mostly just spice levels—have excelled at recreating them.

For the supporters of these regulations, I ask them “Who will be behind the stove?” Since the restaurant business is a ruthless game, it means long hours in hot steamy conditions, with often lower wages. Who do they envision would take these jobs? From my understanding, many first- or second-generation hawkers worked hard to give their children an opportunity to go to school and have a better life. I am sure some kids have taken over family restaurants, but it’s not the norm. Mom, being a “Chinese mom”, never wanted us to get in to the restaurant business since we both went to school in our specific fields. She knew how hard it would be physically and mentally.

The supporters of these policies want the lineage to continue in their hawker footsteps kind of like a form of restaurant nepotism. Not realistic in my point of view.

I am sure our story is not unique, and that there are others from the Southeast Asian diaspora in the UK, the US or Australia that have brought their families’ flavours over with them. I see that as something beautiful, and a way to preserve these flavour profiles for future generations. The best pizza is probably not from Naples anymore, and the top pastries and croissants are probably in Japan. I really doubt they are made by Italian or French chefs.

Thank you for taking a minute to read me, and wish you a wonderful day. Really enjoyed your publication. Was lucky to find this issue that has to do with food. Food is my life.

“Choose a job that you love and you will never have to work a day in your life.”

by Mathieu Winnicki.