‘Can I take a look around please, maybe take some photos?’ asked Steve.

‘May I go with you?’ said Tina, as Chandri and her husband nodded their assent.

As they wandered off with two young boys in tow, to admire the ornately carved doors on some of the pavilions, Grace asked Chandri, ‘So your mother taught you to cook? Now you teach your sons and daughters?’

Chandri held up a finger. ‘Just number one son cook. All girls learn to cook. Sometimes I cook for bule lady.’

‘She’s being modest, Grace,’ said Andy. ‘Chandri is famous. She and her mother started one of the first little warungs near the beach. Just a stall, really, she’d cook snacks and take them to the tourists in Kuta. She’d walk along the sand carrying them in a basket on her head. Then a couple of Aussie surfers got her to cook a version of Aussie meat pies and sausage rolls . . . Balinese-style, as it turned out. Maybe the recipes got a bit lost in translation but they were delicious and a huge hit,’ Andy added, laughing. He translated his words for Chandri, then said, ‘Warung Baba got bigger and became a place to sit down outside and eat. Gede grew up watching his mother cook for tourists.’

‘Oh, that’s a fantastic story. Does anyone have photos of her stall and Gede when he was younger?’

Andy asked her and the older woman called her daughter and spoke to her. The young woman smiled and disappeared.

‘Andy, how serendipitous is this? Is there a dish that could be unique to Gede’s family that we could promote?’

‘Meat pies? Sausage rolls?’ He laughed. ‘No one makes them like Aussies do.’

‘Maybe you could do a little stall of snacks at the Kamasan’s beachfront for the guests,’ said Grace.

‘Steady on, we want them to eat in our great restaurants and bars. But we do run food down to the beach. Hmmm, maybe reviving Warung Baba isn’t a bad idea for Gede to think about once he’s settled in.’

Tina rejoined them, sitting down. ‘Warung Baba, did you say? I remember that. It was on the little path from Bemo Corner that went to the beach. It sold delicious snacks.’

‘Get outta here. Well, I s’pose that’s no surprise,’ said Andy, grinning. ‘You were around in the good ol’ days too. Gede’s mum started it.’

‘Oh, my heavens!’ Tina clasped her hands and turned back to Chandri. ‘I’m honoured to know you. You are famous. Like your number one son.’

Chandri laughed when Andy translated this, and then her daughter returned, handing her a glossy magazine carefully wrapped in plastic. Chandri took it out and gently opened it and showed Grace and Tina. There was a photo story on the little Bali beach shack doing a roaring trade in ‘Balinese-style Aussie meat pies’.

‘Tracks magazine, 1980,’ said Grace and handed it to Tina.