In the suburbs of Perth, back in the 90s, Lunar New Year was never quiet.
Chef Brendan Pang remembers his Grandmere’s house in Riverton alive with overlapping conversations, aunties talking over each other, the metallic clatter of pots and woks, garlic hissing as it hit the hot oil, and soy sauce curling through the air like smoke, thick and sweet.
“The house would completely transform,” he recalls.
“My mum has two sisters and a brother, and all their partners and kids would be there. There was always lots of noise, food and movement.”
His Grandmere, a woman with Cantonese roots but of proud Mauritian heritage, orchestrated everything. Some of her specialties were a Mauritian version of yee sang (prosperity sashimi salad) and prawn foo yong, a fluffy omelette of prawns and bamboo shoots, emerging from the stove in golden rounds. Seafood, from prawns to sea cucumber, would also make an appearance.
“I didn’t love some of the dishes as a kid,” Brendan admits.
“But funny enough, those are the ones I crave now.”
Across Lunar New Year, food plays a central and symbolic role, almost as vessels to welcome luck, prosperity and unity while honouring ancestors. With that said, the shopping in the lead-up to Lunar New Year, Brendan says—was always deliberate, almost ceremonial. Early trips to the small Asian grocers of Riverton or to Canning Vale Markets meant securing the freshest fish and produce.
“I remember how excited my Grandmere would get about good produce, especially seafood, and I think that’s where my love of seafood comes from,” he mentions.
“These days, I still love nothing more than walking through a supermarket—especially one with great Asian produce, meats and seafood, like Gong Grocer in Sydney.”
To Brendan, it gave him a clear sense that this food mattered. Quantities were bigger, and prep started early. He remembers silver trolleys piled high with noodles, sauces, dried mushrooms, preserved ingredients and fresh produce too.
Back at the house, the kitchen was always led by his Grandmere, a matriarch who candidly decided what was cooked, how much, and when. Brendan helped where he could—“peeling garlic, folding wontons, carrying things back and forth” but most of his time was spent watching and absorbing, rather than actively cooking.
“My grandparents’ house always felt huge as a kid, and it was a chance to run around and hang out with my cousins,” Brendan says.
“It’s a really special memory now, especially since we don’t spend much time at that house anymore since my Grandpere passed away. A lot of my love of food and cooking started there.”
Today, Brendan Pang is a chef, writer and culinary storyteller with well over two-and-a-half million followers. He first made appearances on MasterChef Australia back in 2018 and 2020 but you’ve no doubt caught wind of his delicious foodie travels, pop-up cooking school and recipes with a little added “Brendan magic” to them. I myself, have his low-effort coconut fish curry creation saved to my ‘recipes’ folder on Instagram.
He’s also lived and travelled extensively through Asia, including a brief few years in Taiwan, where he watched friends celebrate Lunar New Year in their own ways, learning that dumplings carry wealth, fish bring abundance, and rice cakes promise prosperity. Now, living in Sydney, he sees it all on a much bigger scale.
“I’m really grateful to have a platform and to meet so many second-generation Australians who, like me, are looking to connect more deeply with their culture,” he says.
“On a personal level, I try to celebrate with my partner and friends. Even if they didn’t grow up celebrating Lunar New Year, I like to mark it intentionally whether that’s going out to my favourite Chinese restaurant or making dumplings together at home. I still shop at Asian grocers, cook at home, and keep the focus on food that’s meant to be shared.The location has changed, but the spirit of generosity, connection and memory stays the same.”
Image credit: Supplied
