The Junk

Prof. Madder has just celebrated the end of the week by taking the family to one of Kuching's most characterful eating places. The Junk is situated opposite St Mary's school and nestled in a row of very old-looking shophouses. It is one of the few places in Kuching I know of where Anthony Bourdain has eaten, and there is a photo of him on the wall inside.

The Junk is not just a great place to fill your tummy, but it's also jam-full of the most surprising antiques, and bits and pieces of old lives. Yet it is definitely not a "Theme Restaurant" full of kitschy tat. The theme of the Junk is that there is no theme.

Back in the UK, there are so many of these "Theme Restaurants" which try often too hard to represent some quirky aspect of popular culture or sport. They have all kinds of superfluous items displayed on the walls and ceilings - horse shoes, rows of books, baseball bats, canoes (yes I kid you not!), aeroplane propellers and even hub-caps from 1950s Cadillacs. But although I've been in places like them all over the world, I am never totally convinced that the items on display are actually genuine. I have always suspected that there is a factory somewhere where they actually manufacture the tat that decorates these kind of restaurants.

But the Junk is different. Just start with its name. When I first saw the name, I naturally thought that "Junk" referred to an old Chinese fishing boat. I expected to enter the restaurant and find myself surrounded by fishing nets, lobster pots and other oceanic paraphernalia. But the Junk is so-called because it's, well, full of old junk! And what wonderful old junk it is!

As soon as you go into the place, you see that everything is under lit and there are candles everywhere. There are even fishing nets on the ceiling, along with old photos, advertisement posters from donkeys' years ago, old maps, etc. All the furniture is aged-looking and made of somewhat Tokienesque dark wood. Reminded me of some of the older English pubs back home.

When you go up the rather narrow wooden stairs to the dining room, you immediately encounter one of Kuching's most stunning pieces of organic art. All the way up the stairs, to the left is a most remarkable coral-like encrustation made from the wax of probably thousands of candles, which have melted down over the years and just coagulated into a mass that reminds one of the sci-fi movie The Blob. You can see that this waxen Thing has strata just like rocks, with the darker, older wax visible at the bottom, while the newer crudiments are pristine and white at the top.

Upstairs, there are several tables lit by oil candles, and surrounded by all kinds of stuff. In fact, you will find yourself paying more attention to what is on the walls and in various display cases around the room, than actually eating your food.

They have a large number of clocks of different sizes, all of which are stopped at different times of the day. There is a display frame showing half a dozen old China tea cups, another case containing what look like a very old set of shaving equipment - men's razor, brush, and even an old pocket watch. There are movie posters, modern art prints, ornate lanterns, a rusty and retired office fan on the floor, a miniature cast-iron horse and even the remains of a child's pedal-scooter resting precariously on the window-sill.

I can't begin to describe all of the stuff they have in there. You have to see it to believe it. And, unlike the kitschy eating places back home, one gets the feeling that all of the junk displayed in the Junk is probably the real McCoy. Someone, somewhere in the distant past actually owned and used those clocks and watches, or actually drank from those China tea cups. Everything on display in the Junk seems to carry the almost invisible but indelible patina of human emotion and meaning.

What about the food and the ambiance, I hear you scream? Well, there is nothing junky about the eating experience in the Junk. The seats are comfortably old-fashioned, and not cramped, even when the place is packed. I also thoroughly compliment whoever chooses the background music - there is always jazz, or Latin American rhythms, anything artistic and quirky, and definitely not chart pop, which would ruin the charm.

The menu is a few dark pages bound in flat pieces of wood, and the choice is admittedly limited to Western and fusion dishes such as rack of lamb, pasta favourites such as lasagna, and of course fish and chips. There are usually several chef's specials, and a nice selection of desserts which change regularly. There is a short but impressive wine list and beer for the alkies, and a much wider range of fruit juices, fruit crushes and beverages on offer. I particularly recommend the Ribena Sprite.

When the food arrives, you will find yourself pleasantly shocked. The one thing the Junk has become famous for is the size of its portions. They are theatrically, gutbustingly huge. I warn all of my readers - only go to the Junk if you are really really starving.

This evening, I ordered an excellent carrot soup to start with, followed by a fettuccine carbonnara. The soup came in a plate the size of a car tyre, and there was so much of it, I could have dived in and swum in it!

My niece had the fish and chips, which I have had many times, and she couldn't finish it - the mountain of salad and the ocean-liner sized pieces of fish had to be packed up to take home and only the chips were touched.

My wife experimented with a lamb dish which was not quite so voluminous as the others but made up for it with a riot of colourful vegetables and a very "interesting" sauce.

The carbonnara I had is one of my Junk favourites - a deceptively monstrous mound of creamy, firm fettuccine intimately involved with beef bacon (this being a Muslim country) and pleasingly herby mushrooms.

Heaven on a plate, washed down in my case with a glass of watermelon juice.

Oh, for a life of the senses!!