There are lots of reasons to love a food festival. Whenever there’s one happening in Melbourne, I think about going.
A few weeks ago I went down to the Night Noodle Markets after work with my colleagues. An outdoor food festival at Birrarung Marr, a grassy patch at the edge of the city, serving up all kinds of Asian street food you can think of. When the eight of us twenty-somethings arrived at a quarter to six, a sea of people greeted our eyes. Tables packed. Queues in front of food stalls where chefs dished up food right before our eyes.
We go to food festivals because it’s a chance for us to give in to our love for food. A time to indulge our food cravings. We go to food festivals for the food, for our old favourite foods and the foods we’ve always wanted to try. As my colleagues and I made our way past the entrance, a dozen different gastronomic aromas hit us in the face left, right and centre. Vietnamese pho. Korean fried chicken. Chinese baos. Japanese ramen. Mouthwatering Asian street food. What shall I eat? Everything.