My Dad is well into his seventies, but still drives more than 600 clicks to visit me. And by “me”, I mean an all-you-can-eat Vietnamese joint in south-east Melbourne whose precise location I am sworn, by all the powers of rice-flour pancakes, and filial trust, to protect.
“What if someone finds out how good it is, and takes all our banh mi?” says Dad. “Oh, don’t be silly,” I say, all the while, truly knowing this same deep fear.
My partner used to hop-aboard the squid excursion, which always occurs within 15 minutes of Dad’s arrival. My partner can no longer bare to see the naked, ancient hunger in our eyes. “You will eat again, you know. Probably at teatime,” says my partner. Dad and I just glare.
So. Okay. Maybe not everyone behaves at an all-you-can-eat buffet as if they haven’t had food for a week. If you are a person of restraint, I commend you. If you are a person who cares to learn the secrets of stuffing one’s banh-hole, proceed with me to the table.
Do not fast before an all-you-can-eat feast. Really. This is amateur. The advanced overeater knows that they must stay match-fit.
First, and very crucially: do not fast before an all-you-can-eat feast. Really. This is amateur. The advanced overeater knows that they must stay match-fit. Do not skip the previous meal — which ought to be breakfast, as an all-you-can-eat evening repast will only end in night terrors — and, in fact, make sure that you have eaten more than usual. This is just science, comrade. Any qualified buffet doctor will tell you that the excessive diner should stretch their eating parts (a buffetological term) before marathon dining.
Further, if you really crave value for money at any private or public all-you-can-eat meal, know your stomachs. These can be precisely identified by a professional buffet doctor, but I suggest spending one’s money on all-you-can-eat instead. Really, it takes only about three good trials to know what fills the “large boring” stomach — in my own case, items include squash, kidney beans and tiramisu — and what the other dedicated stomachs, which may number up to ten in gifted individuals, receive. I have, for example, the common “dessert stomach” (tiramisu excepted) and “potato stomach”. I also have the prawn stomach, and believe I may have a previously undetected biryani stomach.
I discovered this emerging stomach on an all-you-can-eat afternoon with my friend Shakira. Shakira may be known to some as a reputable author. To me, she will always be the person who introduced me to all-you-can-eat Pakistani buffet. Of course, I will be forever her servant due to this sisterly buffet experience, but I found she was very unhelpful when I asked her what I should eat first.
“Helen. Don't overthink! Just eat! EVERYTHING. Nihari and haleem and EVERYTHING.” Then, she started saying something about how butter chicken was an offence and the “curry you have when you’re not having a curry”. But by this point, I had wasted a lot of time not discovering my biryani stomach.
Yes. Planning is essential. There are warm-up “large boring” stomach dishes which excite the more important stomachs, as all all-you-can-eaters eventually come to know. I urge you to fill all your stomachs. Because it is likely you will never eat again.
Helen Razer is your frugal food enthusiast, guiding you to the good eats, minus the pretension and price tag in her weekly Friday column, Cheap Tart. Don't miss her next instalment, follow her on Twitter @HelenRazer.
