This is not Barbecue Sauce, this is Melaka.

After our excitement in KL and a return trip to the Petronas Towers and Sky Bar, we headed back on the bus to Melaka, an old colonial post in the south of Malaysia.  We were only there for one night prior to heading out to Singapore – a place we were all so looking forward too.

Melaka as a destination is really nice, though getting a little fed up of walking around a few of us headed to the pictures to catch a movie.  The cost, like most of Asia for movies was next to nothing and it was barely full – though I’ve forgotten what we watched.

As a large group we planned to have a meal together in the old quarter of the town; tiny narrow streets paved with little stall outlets and boutique shops – you would think for a moment that you were back in Europe.

We picked upon a nice restaurant that Nin had been to a few times and was a lovely small place that was just about able to accommodate our large group.  Sat down we browsed the menus looking for something local and began ordering.

Andreas, sat opposite me ordered barbecue chicken - he was starving and ensured he ordered the biggest dish on the menu.  For a small restaurant there was only one chef and so the food didn’t come out together.  The first one came out after ordering, then five minutes later the next one; ten minutes after the next.  This continued until we all got our food.  Except Andreas.

I would say Andreas was a pretty chilled out sort of guy.  Nothing seems to bother him – very zen like.  That is until he gets hungry.  The lack of food on his place mat whilst we were all merrily eating really got to him.  He became frustrated, and complained about the delay.  Apologetic the staff at the restaurant rushed to ensure his food was ready.  And when his barbecue chicken dish arrived at the table, he grabbed his knife and fork, dived straight in and took a large bite.

His face then screwed up as if he’s bitten on a lemon.  Loudly his Dutch voice echoed the room:

“This is NOT barbecue sauce.  This is not.  This is just awful.”

He dived in again as if it was a mistake.  Another bite.

“Ewww, this is, this is NOT barbecue sauce.  Dave, you try it, you try it.  It’s just awful.”

Holding back the tears of laughter I took a bite.  It was a very smoky barbecue sauce, almost charcoal ash like.  I replied, “it’s a little smokey…”

Andreas butted in, “No!  This is not barbecue sauce”.

For Andreas, this comment lived on for the rest of the trip and even when he got home.  Wherever I see something with barbecue sauce in it I ensure I take a picture to remind him.

Later that evening, after a bit of shopping in the night markets, a few of us headed to my favourite place, the karaoke – where we sang goodbye to Malaysia and hello to Singapore.