A few weeks ago I had the privilege to attend a networking lunch at the Bennelong restaurant in Sydney. For the out-of-towners, the Bennelong restaurant is an innovative fine dining restaurant within the iconic Sydney Opera house. With foods ranging from fresh oysters to artisan cocktails, against the backdrop of the Sydney harbor.

Long story short. The food is exquisite and the vibes are immaculate.

As a regular thirty-something year old from an immigrant background. I can assure that these views and venues were not a regular occurrence for me. While the main goal was the network and learn about the latest shit shows occurring in the world of Cyber. I made sure that I tried every item of food in front of me. Ranging from the stuffed pea tarts, cream cheeses and fresh oysters to the espresso martinis and old fashioned.

The views were unreal and the soft jazz in the background really added to the elements of elegance. Yet something felt off.

I couldn’t quite put my finger on it at first. But then it hit me.

It was the fact that I wasn’t surrounded by the people that I cared about.

Even as I was in a fine dining setting, my mind kept going back to that time. My friends and I ended up at a Oyster farm in the middle of butt-f*ck nowhere. Although we were seated on questionable carton boxes and made to eat fresh oysters on plastic plates. It was a moment of pure joy and harmony. One that is rare to come by in these days.

In that moment, I realised something important. If I were ever asked to pick between a dodgy food truck with loved ones vs a fine dining space with a room full of strangers. I’d always pick the food truck.