The one next to Supper Inn.
Heyday isn’t a restaurant; it is a miracle.
Everytime I come here, I cringe.
The Heyday menu to me is like Kryptonite to Superman, it renders me helpless.
I always imagine a giant mystical creature like a three headed Cerberus being chained in the kitchen.
After you order they whip the creature, and it would gobble up all the ingredients from the floor, chew them up then spit on a plate.
Tadah! Calamari with spicy Thai sauce on rice.
The dishes don’t look or smell appetising.
In fact I want to say it’s terrible.
Where else would you find a small hole in the wall serving toasts and omelette with spam?
Did I mention the side dish - instant noodles with beef curry?
WT actual F.
But if you ask anyone from Hong Kong in Melbourne, ANYONE, chances are they know about this place.
Heyday is a miracle, because after all these years, against all common sense of operating a restaurant, it is still standing.
Surviving strictly on word-of-mouth and nostalgia.
For me the bastardisation of toast and egg, east and west, is just part of the shadow of British colonisation.
(See also: Malaysian kaya toast.)
I have a feeling if you’re not actually from Hong Kong, you won’t get it.
And they don’t give a shit if you don’t.
Heyday is a physical time capsule.
With all the political crap happening at the moment, 17 years after Hong Kong was ‘returned’ to China, I beginning to sense and appreciate the importance of this place.