Hi, I'm Konrad Marshall and from the Sydney Morning Herald and The Age.

Welcome to Good Weekend Talks, a magazine for your ears, featuring in-depth conversations with fascinating people from sport and politics, science and culture, business and beyond.

Every week, you can download new episodes in which top journalists from across our newsrooms talk to compelling people about the definitive stories of the day.

In this episode, we talk to TV and food personality Melissa Leong, the subject of a cover story in today's Sunday Life magazine.

In her life so far, Leong has worn many hats talented pianist, advertising executive, food writer and even UFC broadcast host.

But it's the three years she spent as a judge on MasterChef Australia that made her a household name and also put her under the spotlight, especially as a woman of colour in the media.

Now, in a new memoir titled guts.

Leng writes about how her formative years, including aspects of growing up with migrant parents, have shaped some of her biggest life choices.

She's also candid about her struggles with mental health and seeing the darker side of the hospitality industry.

She talks about all this, as well as her love of food, with the writer of the Sunday Life feature, associate editor Melissa Singer.

Thanks, Conrad, and welcome, Melissa.

Thank you very much for having me.

Now, we should begin by letting the listeners know that this isn't the first time we've met to talk about your incredible new memoir, guts.

Um, a few weeks ago, we caught up at your stunning home in Melbourne's inner north, where you were kind enough to cook lunch for me.

Oh, my.

God, I was so nervous.

Um, that's that's not a format I've given a go before.

So that was very new territory for me as well.

Cooking.

Cooking while being interviewed.

Uh, Clever.

Very clever.

Molly.

Singer.

Um, you know, just sort of keep me distracted and just see, see how, um, you know, see what comes out in the wash.

Well, I think.

How'd I go?

Well.

Well, I think part of it was, um.

I mean, I think in the book you talk a little bit about the not so much the imposter syndrome, but I suppose this belief that if you you weren't a chef, that you didn't have a rightful seat at the table.

So I suppose part of me just wanted to see what kind of cook you were.

What can she do?

And then I.

Also thought, well, you know, cooking, um, you don't really, truly know someone until you break bread with them.

That is a sentiment I share with you.

And that's in that regard.

When you said, hey, would you cook for me while we do this interview?

I thought, you know what, that's beautiful because I really agree.

When you share food with somebody, when you literally sit at the same table as somebody, um, you have to set aside expectations and other things and just be present.

And, um, yeah, I mean, maybe this is the beginning of a whole new series of chats for you.

Who knows?

Who knows?

I mean, I and I'm and I'm, you know, greatly indebted to you for indulging me in my request.

So I want to I want to start with just an observation of your book, which is called guts, a memoir of Food Failure and Taking Impossible Chances.

And when the hard copy arrived in my hands a few days ago, one of the things I was most taken by was this incredible shot of you on the cover.

And one of the things that really stood out to me was the fact that you've got your sleeves rolled up.

You're wearing.

This.

Beautiful suit, which I believe is by Perry.

Perry.

Cotton.

Yes.

Very well known shout out.

Legendary Australian label.

Mhm.

And you've got one tattoo on each forearm.

And one of them I had to I had to get my magnifying glass out just a little bit.

It's a little Easter egg for, um, for audiences or readers out there.

But the fact the fact is, I was so drawn to it because I feel that, uh, you can learn so much about a person, uh, from what they choose to ink themselves with.

Oh, yeah.

Until they get to a stage, I think, where you're so covered in tattoos that you don't care anymore, and then you just, you know, put shit tats on, which is great.

I love I love a good, nonsensical, um, tattoo that just means absolutely nothing.

It's just silly.

But you're right.

I think when you have less tattoos, usually, at least at the beginning, they're imbued with a little bit more meaning or a bit more sentimental value.

And, um, yeah, there's there are a few I have some of them you haven't seen yet.

Um, and you will not be seeing in this particular environment, but there is one, um, the script on my wrist, which is a very, I realize, a very millennial thing.

Uh, it says existence is pain.

And it is, um, for those of you who are into Rick and Morty, which is an adult cartoon that I am obsessed with, it's a quote from a particular episode, and it's really just about, you know, existential dread, but also just the awareness that we're not put on this earth purely for pleasure.

Um, we're not guaranteed a, um, a smooth ride, and it's healthy to be reminded of that from time to time.

So why not ink it on forever?

Um, when did you get it?

Um, I think I've had it for three years.

I want to say so you can do the maths in terms of when I got it and why, maybe, but yeah, about three years.

All right.

Well, we'll leave.

The.

Listeners to read between the lines there.

Um, well, I wanted to to dive into the book, and I think that quote, Existence Is Pain really does go to the heart of some of the themes that you cover in this.

incredibly raw and at times very moving book.

Um, but I want to start with your earliest food memory.

Given that food and family are two key themes in the book.

Aren't they all for everybody?

You know, if we really think about it, even if they're bad food memories, we still have a lot of food memories as a kid.

Um, so I think it's a relatability thing.

Everybody has some kind of touchstone to food and family.

And you write about some that are sentimental.

You also write about some that kind of are quite repulsive and, and almost you carry a bit of shame about.

Do you want to tell me about a couple of those?

Um, I think I go into, in terms of the book, my first memory, and I really think it's my first food memory was, uh, sitting on the floor in my parents kitchen.

And my mother is Singaporean Chinese, so sambals and all sorts of Um, delicious.

Um, kind of pungent sauce and curry bases and things are made on the floor, pounded and pounded with a mortar and pestle.

And I think, yes, of course, these days you can put things in food processors and make things a lot nicer and easier for yourself.

But there's something really visceral about the memories of sitting on the newspaper covered floor with my mother, watching her, you know, manually grind and pound these aromatics together to form the basis of maybe just one, one sauce for dinner.

Um, and not any particularly special dinner, but just, you know, a regular, you know, weekly dinner at my place.

And so I think why I carry that memory of sitting there and, you know, watching the, you know, the dust glitter through the light coming through the window and, and looking at the, the Chinese script on the newspaper and trying to make sense of it.

Those memories stick with me because, um, the way we share food, the way that we express love in, in an Asian household is often to do with food.

I saw a meme recently about, um, the ways different cultures apologize to one another and different parents apologizing to their kids.

And, and it's like, oh, you know, I'm so sorry, Annie.

You know, everything's going to be all right.

Let's go and get some ice cream.

And then the one for Asian parents was just like a woman thrusting a plate of fruit in front of the kid and just being like, take, eat.

You gotta eat it.

And it's just like, that is the way that my mother would apologize is sorry about the bad accent.

Um, the way we would apologize and show love for one another is through the giving and the accepting of food and the breaking of bread, as he mentioned before, together.

And that kind of smoothed over any misgivings that might have happened prior to it.

So, yeah.

It's a beautiful memory.

Um, what else can you tell me about your family's food rituals and relationship to food in the context of growing up in the Sutherland Shire in Sydney, which, for those who aren't from Sydney, um, it's, uh, it's it's the, the locale of places like Cronulla and very iconic places.

But at the time you were growing up was a very, very predominantly white community.

Yeah.

My family was maybe one of two Chinese families in our neighbourhood, so we definitely stuck out as being other.

And I think that identity has stuck with me in terms of feeling on the outer or not necessarily part of the broader collective.

And so food was a really important way of keeping culture alive for my family.

And of course, these days you can go down to the local supermarket and find all sorts of, um, amazing mushroom XO sauces and fish sauce and, um, curry paste and things like that.

That was not the case growing up.

So every Saturday morning, we had a pilgrimage out to Bankstown to go to the Vietnamese grocer and pick up all of the ingredients that we would need to cook our food at home.

And, um, that visit to the market every week and the smells and the sights and the sounds of what that was like, really stick with me because, um, I guess now shopping and shopping for food is still such a ritual for me.

I love just wandering around a supermarket, even if I have nothing to buy, because there are all the possibilities all around you.

Another important part of your childhood was music, and a lot of people may not know this that you were once training, I suppose, for lack of a better word, to potentially go to the Sydney Conservatory.

Yes.

Sydney Conservatorium of Music.

To study piano.

That was my dream.

That was your dream.

But something intervened, and fate took you on another course.

Yeah.

Can you tell me a bit about your your love of piano, your practice and what happened?

Well, I still don't know where it came from, but apparently from the age of three and a half, I begged my parents for a piano.

And of course, when parents listen to a toddler at that age, they're like, oh, yeah, I'm sure that you're going to stick with this.

Um, so they bought just a really shitty upright piano from, you know, some, some bargain place somewhere, and it's probably not even second hand, but fifth, sixth, 10th hand piano.

And they thought, okay, let's see how long she sticks with this.

And it turns out I stuck with it and I really loved it.

I really took to music.

Um, I got it in my head that this was something that I wanted to do, and I loved the performance aspect of it.

You know, there's something really special about, um, sitting in front of a piano in front of an auditorium full of people, and it's the perfect introvert instrument because you don't have to look at anybody.

You just look at the keys.

As I turned, I think about 15, 16.

I started to get develop some pain.

So I started to get some pain in my shoulder.

And, um, the easiest way to describe it is tennis elbow.

It's sort of how it started.

So right posterior capsule, right shoulder, um, shooting pain down into the elbow, the muscles and the sinew that run along the top of the forearm.

And if it's really bad, it will also lock up all the way down my back into my calf muscles and and right down to my ankle.

So I was really upset and confused by this pain that I was experiencing.

And so I saw physiotherapists and, you know, my, my music teachers were all quite concerned and they said, look, you could do this, but you need to know that if you pursue this professionally, that you are going to be playing with a degree of pain for the rest of your life.

And what 16 year old doesn't want to hear that?

So rather begrudgingly had to think about other options for my tertiary education because of course, Chinese migrant children don't have a choice.

There is no will I go to university?

It is.

You will go to university.

I thought, oh gosh, I'm going to have to lean back on that.

And so I ended up going and studying a degree in economics and political economy instead, which of course I use every single day.

So to go from that to being on our TV screens, there was obviously a series, a few things, and there were a series of pivots.

But one of the things we spoke about when we caught up last time was we talked about failure and the concept of good failure.

So I'd love to discuss your path from the halls of Sydney Uni to our TV screens, through that prism of good failures, good failures.

Look, I the way I see it now, I think there are very few failures in life that aren't ultimately at least further down the track.

Good.

Beneficial in some way.

They are some of the best teachers we can ever hope to be gifted in life is is failure.

So for me, studying economics and political economy did not speak to me in the way that food did.

So as I was, I was teaching piano on the side.

I was going to I was going to uni, and then I was also working as a Clinique girl initially, which I loved.

Um, and I'm still so obsessed with skincare and beauty and makeup and, and all of those things.

And so when I finished uni, I had a lot of friends finishing film school and TV production and, you know, sort of arts related subjects and, and degrees.

And so they were starting their own production companies and experimenting with music videos.

And I had other friends who were musicians, so I kind of ended up being roped into doing hair and makeup for music videos.

And that is so much more fun when you are, you know, 21 years old or 20 years old than the idea of being an intern in the HR department at some global corporation where you dissolve into into that corporate environment.

And so, of course, I chose to do a little bit more of that.

And then I guess as I evolved through that experience, I had a lot of fun.

But intellectually there was I felt there was something missing from that experience.

And so I bounced around into media and into advertising from there.

So I had a job where I was, um, teaching television ratings analysis software to media buying companies.

So I got to as an, as an early 20 something travel around to Hong Kong and to Bangkok and to KL and all sorts of other places, teaching people like Rupam and Nielsen Netratings.

And then I'd be given a per diem that I could then spend on whatever I wanted.

And as a as a 20 something year old kid, you're just like, oh my God, that's amazing.

And if you know how to eat in places like that 80, 90, 100 AUD can buy, you can live like a king.

It's absolutely amazing.

So I kind of ended up using those experiences, those travel trips, as, um, just ways to start exploring food culture in the places that I was being sent, which was really, really lovely and such a perk of the job.

And so I started off talking about food, I started a blog, I started, you know, a Twitter account and a Facebook page and all of these things.

And so the blogging thing then evolved into food writing because, um, I had a friend who was an editor of some street press up in Sydney, so I started writing a food column for them.

Then Time Out Sydney started and so I cold emailed, their food department and said, hey, you know, put my hand up here.

Here are some copies of my writing.

And I just I'm mortified to think of how shit it was, but obviously not so shit that they didn't give me the opportunity to to try.

And then it just became this, um, this groundswell of getting to know people in the community.

And I suddenly felt like I had found an industry where I felt at home.

And that was a really exciting time for me, because I think that would have been in my mid 20s.

I would have been about 25.

It was the first time since I had let go of music that I found a welcoming sense of identity.

When did you realize that TV was, if not the goal was a goal?

TV was never a goal.

It really wasn't.

I loved radio and I loved seeing my byline in print.

The very first time I saw my my name in print on an article was I will never forget that feeling.

Um, but I sort of ended up being nudged into television.

And it started, I think, because I was producing and co-editing The Great Australian Cookbook, and we had a videographer that came along for the ride, because at that point in publishing, we know that content is king.

And so to be filming these interviews with beloved cooks and chefs and producers from all around Australia, asking them to talk about food they love and why, why they cook particular dishes for their loved ones.

That was a great job, but my job was to interview the subject.

But I would sit in the frame for the videographer to just line everything up, and then eventually the talent would sit in the shot and I'd sit behind the camera.

Um, but the videographer cut together all these little snippets of me sitting in the frame, and it somehow made its way to SBS, I think.

And then I got a call, and so they asked me to partake in a, an all in kind of chemistry test.

And that was the beginning of everything.

Everything else over the last couple of years.

So yeah.

What a transformational period in your career and a time of great success.

Yeah, I guess I guess so.

I think of I struggle with the word success, not because of any kind of imposter syndrome thing, but just because that's a moving target for me.

You know, there's always something else to strive for or something bigger to grow into.

And as we evolve as professionals, hopefully within one sort of general direction of career, there's always going to be something else.

But TV, you know, turns out I didn't suck at it.

Although if I look back on my very first takes on things, I'm sure they weren't great.

But it's just it's that constant evolution of skills.

And I think you need to embrace being shit at something before you can ever be good at it.

But yeah, you're right.

I mean, that was the beginning of a very steep trajectory in, in my career.

And, um, there's lots of positive elements about that and a lot of really challenging things that I still sit with and think about from time to time.

So before we go into some of those roles, I just want to pause and go a little deep.

Okay.

We've gone there.

Before.

We've gone there.

We've gone there before.

Yeah.

Um, in the book, you reveal quite early on, I might add that while you were working in PR well before your time in TV, something quite terrible happened to you.

Yeah.

Are you able to talk about it a bit?

Sure.

Um.

Ah.

Where does one start with these things?

This is something that I.

I wasn't ever planning on writing about.

Um, you know, when I, when I created the structure or the chapter structure for the book, I thought, okay, what what do I want to talk about here?

And it's been a fairly big life so far.

There are lots of different things that I could keep in or out of that.

Of that narrative.

But as I went to write this book, it kind of wrote itself, and I found myself looking at words on a screen.

Um, gosh, I wish I could say, you know, on a typewriter, but that's that's a different person.

Um, I saw these words come flooding out on the screen, and it was the story of, um, of being raped.

And, um, it really surprised me because I had repressed that memory and that shame for so many years now that I would go to these International Women's Day events, and I would listen to friends who were survivors of really horrible forms of abuse and, um, and other, you know, other terrifying things that happen to women in this world.

And I would I had trained myself so well that I did not identify as being the same as them.

I thought, oh, that's really horrible.

I'm an ally.

I'm here for you.

And it wasn't until, um, I started writing the book and, uh, I attended an, oddly enough, an International Women's Day, um, lunch for Marie Claire, where Anna Coutts-trotter, who is the co-founder of Survivor Hub, shared her story that something a floodgate opened, and I suddenly realized that I was so much more a part of that conversation than I had let myself believe for the longest time.

And yeah, there was a there was a period of time when I was, uh, 20 something year old woman trying to figure out my place in the world.

And, um, I was I was raped and conversations Around.

What happened to me in terms of consent were just not being had.

So, you know, when we talk about sexual assault, there are so many versions of that.

Some are far more violent and overt than others.

And in my particular case, it wasn't violent.

It wasn't sort of shocking in the moment.

It was a much more insidious, horrible, slimy, creepy, bad thing that happened.

And I think as young women, we are taught to people, please.

And especially when we grow up with trauma, we are taught to people please, to a degree where we just end up disassociating our discomfort so that we can survive a situation.

And so for me, I pretended so hard that this guy didn't force himself on me, and I, I pretended so hard that I just forgot that it happened.

Like I repressed it so deeply that I just put it away.

And it wasn't until I started writing the book that, um, clearly something subconsciously said, nah, that's enough.

We won't be doing that anymore.

And, um, it has taken me this entire period of of having this book out in the world to finally be able to say that I was raped, like, even six months ago.

I couldn't say it.

I would say sexual assault, because that seems that seems so much more acceptable and palatable and printable.

Um, but the reason why I called this book guts is because the visceral parts of our lives matter, and we we should not shy away from the ugly parts of the things that have happened to us, because the really sad part of it is that these are not rare occurrences.

Um, I'm not unique in any way.

My story is merely the configuration of very human experiences that have happened to me, and I'm trying to articulate them in a way that maybe people can feel, that they can relate or feel less alone in their own stories.

Thank you for sharing that.

And I know it must be difficult to talk about.

Um.

I'm still trying to find the words, and which is ironic given that words are my entire world.

Um.

I struggle to find the right way to express my outrage at owning shame that isn't mine to own for so long.

Um, I don't I don't wish to name him.

That's not the point.

I don't believe in giving people air time in my life that don't deserve it.

But I think for me, the most important reason why I decided to share it is that there are girls out there.

There are young women out there who still, because we are conditioned to do so, we still believe that we need to keep everybody around us happy, and we shouldn't rock the boat and we shouldn't speak up.

And, um, the fact of the matter is, when you say no, it's a no, no matter what.

And gosh, I wish I had known that back then.

Um, and gosh, I want women and people in general to know that now that when you say no, when you withdraw consent, it doesn't matter what's going on at the time, then that's that's a line that's crossed and that is not fucking okay.

Yeah.

Well said.

When we, uh, For our Sunday Life cover story.

You also spoke a bit about the impact that your upbringing and some of the trauma that you referred to a few moments ago from your family has how that has impacted you?

Um, I want to hear a little bit about what it was like to grow up in your household, especially as the oldest child of migrant parents, and how some of those experiences have affected your own decisions around family.

Well, I think a lot of children can relate to the amount of pressure that our parents put on us to succeed.

And there's a huge amount of expectation that because we've been given this opportunity to live in this beautiful country, that we should succeed and we should, um, exceed the potential of our parents.

And so I grew up in a very disciplined household where we didn't have chores, but the expectation was that there was work to be done.

So homework was taken very, very seriously.

After school was busier than school because there were many extracurriculars.

There was piano, there was, um, ballet, there was flute, there was little athletics, there was gymnastics.

There was always something on after school, and then you'd have homework and then, you know, homework, dinner in bed.

And that was our entire existence.

If we were lucky, maybe on a Sunday we'd be allowed to play with the kids in the neighborhood.

So in order to get us to be that way, there was a fair amount of discipline involved.

And so, you know, my family grew up in a very corporal punishment environment.

You know, they, um, they came to Australia in the 70s.

So they were born in the, the mid 50s.

And corporal punishment was a huge part of the deal.

And so I was beaten a lot as a kid.

There were lots of instances where I would have to, on a hot summer's day, wear track pants under my under my school skirt or long sleeves when I really shouldn't have needed to to cover up bruises that were there because I was terrified that, um, that docs would come and take me away from my family.

Yeah.

So there was this this fear of being taken away from my family, even though my family were the perpetrators of my harm.

And so I realized that I didn't feel safe going up.

I realized that a lot of my behaviors now, including people pleasing and striving for excellence, come from a feeling of never feeling safe at home.

And I think what you were alluding to is my choice.

To be child free is probably definitely influenced by the way that I grew up.

I don't want to pass that on.

Um, I don't know what kind of parent I would be.

So I decided to let fate decide for me if I had children or not.

But I certainly didn't push the issue.

And, um, I I'm okay with that because at least I've broken the cycle for my family.

So you spoke a little bit earlier about what sorry, looked like in your family and in your culture.

What you just said about your family prompts me to wonder, what did love look like?

Love looks like food.

Always.

Um.

I feel like even if sorry was not able to be spoken the way that it was expressed and the way love was expressed was through the ritual of cooking and eating together.

That way you didn't have to say it.

You would just feel it.

Um, and I think the sentiment, you know, and I need to I need to preface all of this by saying that a lot of the reasons why these things happen in families like mine, is because there is a such a strong desire to see your kids succeed, that you will push them to the nth degree to get them there.

Um, yeah.

Let's talk about television.

Okay.

Okay.

How have you approached being both a role model to other women of color or people of color in general?

Let's not be gendered about this.

And standing up against unkind or inappropriate behavior towards yourself in that arena.

Yeah.

It's a it's a difficult and complex answer, I suppose, because as a freelancer, you are offered a job like the jobs that I've been given, especially in the television arena where those jobs are reasonably rare and you're not thinking about, I'm a role model, you're thinking about being employed and paying the bills.

um, and hopefully having a nice time doing those things.

I think it wasn't until the work started to be broadcast that I would receive feedback from people about what my being there meant to them, and not that I would have done anything to denigrate their respect.

But knowing that people look to people like me and there are more and more people like me, um, every day joining our screens, which is a wonderful thing.

I think knowing that carries a certain weight of responsibility to do people proud and to always perform and conduct myself in a way that will give people options further down the line.

I would never want to do or be anything other than a person who opens the gate for other people, and who holds the gate open for other people.

But that's also really difficult to balance when you are a woman in media, and just being female and being in media is a really challenging thing, because people want and expect you to be a certain way.

They expect you to be compliant, they expect you to be grateful to be there.

And yeah, I'm totally grateful for for being there.

But also I have learned over time, and maybe it's because I'm now in my early 40s and I have far less fucks to give, that I will not accept being treated in any other way other than decently, and I will speak up for it now.

Hear, hear.

Sorry about all the swearing.

This is me.

Not on general viewing.

Television.

Joining MasterChef was arguably the role that made you a household name.

How big a moment was that for you?

I tried not to let it be a big moment, and I don't know if again, it's that, um, downplaying of success thing or the, the, the cultural thing for me, but I really, I really did just see it as a job, at least at the beginning.

I think I wanted to maintain that level of journalistic objectivity about the role being a role of, you know, yes, there are opportunities that come with it.

Yes, it is a larger platform than I might have been used to being a part of, but I really just wanted to see myself in that role as me doing a good job and let it just be that.

And when you take away the articles and the media coverage and the red carpets and things, you're just going to a studio doing your job every single day.

And I just wanted to focus on it being about that, because I think if you start to drink your own Kool-Aid and you start to think about the potential largesse of everything that goes on around you that involves you and your work.

I think you can get lost in that.

And I really wanted to maintain two feet on the ground throughout the entire process, and I feel like I've done my very best to do that.

Looking back on the three years of the show, how would you rate?

How would you score it?

How would you in terms of experiences?

Um, well, it depends.

If you were giving a restaurant review, how would you score it?

It depends on what the criteria is, I suppose, because inherently I will always say and truly believe that I am so grateful for that opportunity.

It was growth.

It was, um, it was fun.

It was a lot.

I mean, it was it was expansive in every way that a job could be expansive in invited me to, to take on more than I could have ever dreamt of.

And so of course, I'm going to be grateful for that.

Um, where?

their hard times within that.

Of course.

I mean, what what job, public or not, is smooth sailing the entire time.

Um, no matter what your best intentions are, there are going to be spanners in the works from time to time.

And it's how we step through those, those challenges in life that speak to who we eventually become.

So was it was it positive?

Inherently?

Yes.

Do I regret it?

Absolutely not.

But was it a was it a smooth ride the entire time?

Totally not.

And I think you'd, you'd you'd call me a liar if I said that.

It was obviously one of the most difficult periods during the MasterChef years was the tragic death of your co-host, Jock Zonfrillo in 2023.

I was really shocked and touched to read in your book that five members of the show lost their lives that same year.

God, it was a hell of a year.

How did you approach writing about those dark moments in the book?

Firstly, my reflections are that I have so much love for the crew that I called my family for the years that we will work together so closely.

And yeah, we lost, including jock, five people and, um, you know, Nick and James and Cougar and Jared and these were all loved members of our crew.

They all had different roles, um, within it.

And yes, you know, a public passing is a is a big thing.

It's it's very conspicuous.

But, you know, when you wonder why when people win awards, they acknowledge they spend a lot of time acknowledging the crew and production.

It's because nothing gets made without the collective experience.

And so, um, yeah, they will be just as missed.

And, I think that everybody deserves their flowers and in whatever small way I can make their memories known.

Then, um, I'll do that.

How did you balance what to include in the book and what to leave out?

Well, I think it's about reading the room and knowing what felt important to share versus what didn't need to be there.

Um, and there was just this lesson in intuition, in terms of what I felt would be something that would serve the reader, because, again, as a journalist, we are always thinking of the reader, and our job usually is to completely keep ourselves out of things as much as possible.

We don't exist in our work.

Um, so it is a really challenging thing to write a memoir because it is all about me.

Like I'm all over it.

I'm literally all over it.

Um, Um, but I still come back to thinking about the reader or the audience and what they need or what they might benefit from me sharing.

And so I think that was always the guiding principle, is feeling like I wanted to give them a well crafted piece of writing and some information that they were hoping to receive, while still maintaining a level of privacy and decorum about how I lived my life.

Because I think I've made it fairly clear from from early on that there are things that I'm happy to share, and they're usually things that are to do with the common human experience.

Um, but everything else is up to me.

And I think especially when young, when younger people enter, um, the media spotlight, there is this obligation or pressure to share everything.

But you don't have to.

You really don't have to.

So.

And once you put it out there, you can't take it back.

So I'm always aware of that.

One of the things that you did decide to do with the book is you've married each chapter to a recipe.

Yeah.

So it's not a recipe book.

I think people who might be thinking about getting the book, it's not a recipe book, but.

There are recipes.

Are recipes.

And they are easy and delicious and generous and fun.

I can vouch for that for at least one of those.

Um, is there one that is especially sentimental or resonant?

Sure.

So each chapter starts with an essay on food, so that becomes a metaphor for the words.

And then the recipe caps off each chapter and is somehow fitting with the theme of that particular chapter.

So that's kind of how every single chapter is structured.

If I think about it right now, what do I want to eat from my book?

I'd probably say the sticky rice parcels, which is probably I think I think that's the first recipe in the book.

So it's a Yamaha Classic.

You see this beautiful lotus leaf parcels in bamboo steamers, and there's just such a beautiful aroma about that.

But to me, the texture of sticky rice really speaks to my culture.

It's not something that everybody kind of, um, especially people from a Western perspective, they don't necessarily find that the most natural of textures, but for me, it's deep comfort.

It's about it's a, it's a hug and a bite.

It's really savory.

There are, you know, there are mushrooms and pork and salted duck, duck egg yolks and, um, and it's just it's a parcel of generosity.

Speaking of strange textures and food.

Where are you going?

You've been very busy lately.

You are currently appearing on The Amazing Race.

Oh, yeah.

Uh, you will soon appear on our screens again in a new show that you've shot in New Zealand, which you've described to me as a cross between MasterChef and Lego Masters.

Yeah.

People are like, what?

I can't.

I can't actually.

Yeah.

The creations.

I'm so excited to see them.

It will blow your mind.

It's genuinely the best food I've ever judged on television in my life.

Consistently.

Every single, every single round.

Meanwhile, we haven't even got to talk about your, um, your jiu jitsu practice and your work in in the martial arts space.

People will have to read the Sunday Life profile to to get across some of that.

Sure.

Tell me a bit about the projects that you've got happening right now, and anything you can tell me about what's next?

Well, it's really funny because especially where television is concerned, you the the lead times are so long.

And so you mentioned The Amazing Race being on TV right now.

We filmed that way back in March, you know, this year, March, April.

So it's kind of.

Destroyed.

The magic.

It's a it's a distant memory.

Well, it's funny because people, um, you know, will message on Facebook and say, oh, you're in Nepal, come to my restaurant.

I'm like, I would love to, but we have been and gone for quite some time.

And um, but, you know, hopefully the invitation extends to the next time I happen to be in your beautiful country.

So it's funny that way because, um, you know, I'm working on things now that might not manifest themselves for another six months or so.

Um, so right now you're right.

I just came back from New Zealand.

I worked on a new format show there with the wonderful Vaughn Mabee of Amisfield, and he's the hot chef in terms of the world's 50 best at the moment, and he's sort of constantly traveling the globe showcasing what he does, which is really wonderful.

And it was just a hoot working with him.

He's like a giant Labrador, the most highly skilled giant Labrador you've ever met in your entire life.

Um, so that's that will be early next year, um, to mid next year, depending on what territory, which part of the world you live in.

Um, obviously, you know, the book has been the majority of my attention for, for this year.

And yeah, there are other little things bubbling along, um, in, you know, in the background as well.

While still looking after yourself, which, which is, I know a constant theme in your life as well.

Oh, you need to.

And I think, as you know, not again, not to bring this to gender, but people of the feminine persuasion tend to take care of other people more than they take care of themselves.

And, um, I feel like we are in a very good environment now to have this discussion where we need to, um, reclaim our care and our wellbeing and not feel bad about that.

I think selfish is a very loaded word, but we need to be more selfish.

I think you put it really aptly in our Sunday Life interview where you said something about, I think, constructive selfishness or that's paraphrasing you somewhat.

Totally.

But the idea that selfishness doesn't have to be entirely self-indulgent.

It's not.

Yeah.

Selfishness doesn't mean, to me at least, are choosing yourself at the detriment of others.

It's choosing yourself.

Period.

Melissa Leung It's been a pleasure having you on good weekend talks.

Thanks for joining.

Us.

That was TV and food personality Melissa Leong in conversation with Sunday Life Associate Editor Melissa Singer on the latest Good Weekend talks.

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