Kylie Kwong is one of Australia’s most well-known names in food, as is evident through her Order of Australia award she was awarded in the year 2000 for her services to the catering industry.
The author, chef, and restaurateur has a lot of years of knowledge in the culinary world. She ran the Sydney eatery Billy Kwong for over two decades, in addition to an extremely popular market stall in the city’s Carriageworks markets. In 2021, she launched her new restaurant, Lucky Kwong, named in honor of the son she and her spouse lost a few years prior.
At Lucky Kwong, the staff and the chef utilize a unique and significant item in the service. In this article, she describes her method for signaling the time to eat and tells us the stories of two other crucial possessions.
What would I do to save my home in the event of a fire
I’d carry my son’s small box of ashes, which is placed on a table inside our bed. In 2012, my partner Nell and I tragically had a son who was born dead. His name was Lucky Kwong. The past eleven years of my life have proved extremely intense, dark, often dark and complicated – but truly transformative.
In my restaurant at South Eveleigh, named in his honor, I have finally found a way to express my motherly love for our beloved Lucky. Although I was unable to be a mother or take care of him in the typical sense of the word, I am extremely blessed to have Lucky to serve as my “spirit guide.” Lucky and I regularly communicate, and he is the primary for my business and daily life.
My most useful item
A few months before I started Lucky Kwong, my dear friend and longtime colleague Clarence Slockee showed me how to design a set of clapping sticks to utilize in the restaurant. Clarence has been a Cudgenburra along with a Bundjalung man, as well as the First Nations mentor and horticulturist at South Eveleigh who takes care of the green space that is there. He spotted numerous fallen branches of gum trees that smelled like lemons on the outskirts of. He cut them into size and taught the method of sanding them and oil them.
Instead of a bell, I use these in the time of services during service at Lucky Kwong to call food away to in the past for kitchens. Their distinctive, earthy tone and natural beauty captivate immediate attention. This allows me and my team to tell the story of their significance as well as to offer acknowledgment, appreciation, and support towards the First Nations community in Eveleigh and the nearby Redfern.
The thing I regret the most is having lost.
I like cars that are of good quality. In my early 20s, I was thrilled with my first car, a vintage Mini Clubman S, which was classified as a “classic car.” I believe that my father (who loved restoring his vehicle that was a classic, which was an MGB Mark II) was more thrilled than I was and helped me refinish my Mini to my liking.
Dad and I decided to color it from the original white to a deep burgundy color with racing stripes on each side. We added an old wooden knob for the gearshift, a wood steering wheel, and an outstanding audio system. This vehicle was my pride and pleasure. Every time I stopped at traffic lights, people were looking at the car. I’d saved money from my pocket to purchase the vehicle, and it provided an occasion to allow Dad and I to meet after years of a rocky relationship.
But after just six months, disaster struck. The first day I left to go to work, it turned out that I couldn’t locate my Mini that I had planned to go outside of the property that I was renting. I walked around the streets for about an hour in complete disbelief. I was scratching my head, thinking that I’d lost track of where I had placed it. Then reality hit me, and I realized that my beloved Mini was missing.