The Little Turkish Cafe on Karangahape Rd in Auckland. Photo / Janna Dixon
The Little Turkish Cafe on Karangahape Rd in Auckland. Photo / Janna Dixon
Opinion by Jac Cheok
OPINION:
Last Monday night was memorable. A family member was admitted to A&E. A power cut plunged one of Auckland’s most vibrant streets into darkness. And I witnessed an unexpected act of kindness that is now dearly etched in memory.
Interestingly, an endearing late-night restaurant sat at the heart ofit all. Little Turkish Cafe on Karangahape Road played the backdrop of the aforementioned events, and gave me a new appreciation for late-night eateries.
For one thing, it was the only indoor restaurant still open at 11.30pm that cold, drizzly Monday. My partner and I discovered it by chance while looking for dinner around Auckland City Hospital, where we had been waiting hours for a readout of our relative’s medical scan results.
It was slim pickings. The hospital’s eateries closed at 8pm, and neighbouring Queen Street was deserted and unlit. Little Turkish Cafe, on the contrary, was buzzing. It hummed with chatter from backpackers, students and couples, and radiated the aromatic smells of grilled meats and spices - clearly a cherished haven for people craving a late-night nosh.
Here, I also observed the cordiality and generosity of Aucklanders. Two female diners sitting by the entrance were chatting affably to a homeless man. Not far away, a slightly older homeless man was scanning the restaurant for leftovers. A student couple were startled when the former appeared at their table and asked if he could polish off what was left of their lamb kebabs. Both nodded meekly, then hastily stood up to leave, but not before going up to the counter and buying the man a fresh meal: chicken kebab on rice!
“Not that!” the homeless man interjected. “Mayonnaise and tomato sauce, please. Thank you.”
For folks needing or wanting a post-10pm meal, late-night restaurants are a sanctuary. Photo / Peter Meecham
That exchange evoked a few laughs from diners, who, like me, must have found it both bizarre and heartwarming. The homeless man had come to the cafe looking for scraps, but got a full, warm dinner instead. It’s an episode of kindness I will fondly remember.
Minutes before midnight (and just when I thought enough had transpired in the dark hours of Monday), Little Turkish Cafe was suddenly engulfed in blackness, a result of a power cut along Karangahape Road, we later learnt.
Diners started to leave as the restaurant’s two servers scrambled to get the power back on. They insisted we wait for our Margherita pizza, which we had earlier ordered and was still steadily cooking in their woodfired oven that was unstirred by the outage.
We said sure but offered to take away the pizza so the servers could close for the night. One of them said: “This hasn’t happened before but maybe it’s a good thing? We can go home early. We usually work till 4am.”
The fresh, cheesy pizza ended up being a hit back at the hospital. Our loved one had perked up by then and ravished two slices. We overheard another A&E patient grumble about feeling peckish, and knowing they would struggle to find food, gave them the rest of our pizza.
It was a nice way to end a long, peculiar night. I left the hospital at 1.30am with a renewed appreciation for late-night restaurants. They not only feed late-night diners but can be a source of warmth, refuge and nourishment for non-diners too, such as the homeless and late-night A&E patients.
Even in early-rising Auckland (where people hit the hay early and wake up at the crack of dawn, and generally indulge more in daytime activities than nightlife), late-night eateries play a critical role. For folks needing or wanting a post-10pm meal, they are a sanctuary.
Jac Cheok is a former journalist who now works in the tech industry. She and her Kiwi partner recently relocated to Auckland from Singapore, where late-night dining is prevalent.
