On a recent morning I sat, groggy with jet lag, at a food stall in Penang, Malaysia, eyes fixed on a roti maker flinging dough through the air.
Once it had been stretched into a thin circle about 60cm (2 feet) in diameter, he lowered it and deftly folded it into a neat packet.
When lightly fried in ghee, it is transformed into a multilayered flatbread called roti canai; one of many traditional Malaysian breakfast foods, it is often accompanied by a small bowl of curry for dipping.
My husband and I were staying at the Eastern & Oriental Hotel on the shores of the Strait of Malacca in the heart of George Town, capital of Penang state.
At various times since the late 19th century, it has been a hang-out for such literary luminaries as William Somerset Maugham, Hermann Hesse and Rudyard Kipling.
Our room fee, like many in Southeast Asia, included a generous daily breakfast. On three previous visits we had savoured it, until we realised we were missing the vibrant early-morning street food scene in Penang โ a bit like going to Paris and never setting foot in a cafe.