‘I’m sweating … can I get some tissues on stage?’ Behind the scenes at Darwin’s international laksa festival

They slurp spicy, coconut-enriched curry soup noodles for breakfast, lunch and dinner. They stalk their favourite stalls and sellers at legendary markets such as Mindil beach, Parap and Rapid Creek. And they bring their own containers – round, red and made in Australia by Décor – when buying takeaway.

But, most impressive of all, Darwinians take their laksa so seriously that, every October, Australia’s northern-most capital hosts the Darwin International Laksa Festival, a month-long celebration of multiculturalism and the Top End’s unofficial official spirit dish.

The inaugural festival in 2019 saw 33 venues serve laksa specials for the month. This year’s festival line-up included 50 different laksas plus 175 laksa-inspired creations ranging from prawn toast and laksa toasties to cocktails and cold foam coffees.

Vendors compete for the Golden Bowl: the prize awarded for the festival’s best laksa, as chosen by a panel of judges that visit venues anonymously.

Last year broke with tradition by having the three highest-ranked restaurants make laksas on stage to determine the 2025 winner.

This year flipped the script again, with the appointment of high-profile chefs Luke Nguyen and Junda Khoo – Australasian cooks of Vietnamese and Malaysian heritage respectively – as guest judges to offer an outsiders’ perspectives.

Local Samantha Bennett, executive chef of The Leea hotel, was the judging panel’s third member.

Despite Nguyen and Khoo’s star power, the focus of the 500-person crowd watching the cook-off on Saturday were the local finalists.

Much of this focus was on Jules Mou, the Singaporean-born owner of Kopi Stop which won the Golden Bowl award in 2025. Kopi Stop’s unctuous, mildly spiced laksa also won the public-voted People’s Choice award, while the laksa cookies at sister venue Makan Stop took home the People’s Choice Laksa Inspired-By prize.

This strong showing was the first triple-crown in the festival’s history. Safe to say, Mou and her kitchen offsider Kelvin Soo were favourites.

Like Mou, Cheata Ouch of Angkor Takeaway was also a top-three finisher in 2025 so she cames to this year’s finale better prepared, if not better rested.

Ouch and partner Ollie Howe were running a stall at the festival and cooking right up to the cook-off that started at 6pm. As her cafe’s name suggests, Ouch was born in Siem Reap and makes her laksa with kroeung: a lighter, more fragrant Khmer spice paste than typically richer south-east laksa bases.

Finalist number three was Tully Leitch from the prosaically named Pho Rapid Creek. The towering New South Welshman is a first-time restaurateur – he and his partner Linh Do ditched careers in healthcare and nursing to take over the cafe. He was chuffed to be a finalist.

Leitch’s “untraditional” laksa riffs on a recipe from his dad, Kelvin, who also grows the lemongrass, basil, makrut, sawtooth coriander and other ingredients for his son’s laksa paste. Like many of the festival-goers crowding the Darwin Waterfront, Tully is rocking some laksa-themed attired, specifically a purple shirt from fellow Rapid Creek small business, King King Creative.

The 20-minute finale isn’t long enough to fry off laksa paste and make a broth from scratch, so finalists assemble bowls for the blind tasting using preprepared stock, toppings and locally made Kongs wheat noodles.

Comedian and laksa enthusiast Amy Hetherington – thrilled that her local Pho Rapid Creek is in the runnung – entertains the surprisingly attentive audience.

It’s more tell than show with proceedings lacking the chaos and smoke of TV cooking competitions. The lack of any last-minute rush prompts Hetherington to describe the civilised finish as “the least Darwin cook-off ever”.

After cooking, the finalists leave the stage to be replaced by the judges, who get to work picking a winner. It’s hot and muggy: a classic Darwin “build-up” day.

That much heat, chilli and pressure would affect anyone. By the time he gets to his second bowl, Khoo is really feeling it. “I’m sweating profusely,” he mutters over his headset mic. “Can I get some tissues on stage, please?”

As the judges share observations with the audience, the finalists watch: anxious, then happy, and finally full of doubt. “I’m so nervous,” Ouch says.

The nerves are even more frayed as the judges return to the stage after comparing notes.

Kopi Stop, impressively, pull off the People’s Choice laksa and Laksa Inspired-By double-act again. Then, it’s time for the big one. Nguyen tells the crowd that it was a unanimous decision with all the judges’ scoresheets putting the same bowl at No 1 on account of its seasoning and body unlike most laksas.

He’s barely finished pronouncing the first syllable of “Angkor Takeaway” when we hear a scream. The outburst is quickly followed by a leaping Ouch, hands clasped over her mouth, doing a human pogo stick impression.

“We tasted all the time, dedication and passion you put in your food,” Nguyen says. “We really felt that.”

Guardian Australia travelled as a guest of Tourism and Events NT