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We know baked goods can evoke emotions. Dolloping cream onto a scone might spirit a person back to grandma’s kitchen. A baguette may link to a long ago Parisian romance. And the peanut crust bun at Manna Bakery kindles such fond memories of Korea that people are known to exclaim and become teary in equal measure when they encounter it.

I felt a brimming delight, too: a soft, sweet sphere of milk bread is topped with buttery, nutty crumble. It’s subtle and cosy, and is one of dozens of baked treats at this humble but bustling family-run bakery.

That gentle joy was eclipsed by the ecstasy of the fried sausage roll. The label is alluring in itself. “A deep-fried twirl of milk bun wrapping away a whole sausage” is already more seductive than any online dating profile.

What it doesn’t mention is that this dough-snuggled frankfurter is scattered with panko breadcrumbs for crisp, flaky crunch. Bring in the salty bounce of the sausage and you have a sweet-savoury snack that pushes every button.

Korean cuisine has venerable traditions going back countless generations. Baking is not one of them. Rather, it’s indicative of Korean cooking’s brilliant facility for absorbing and interpreting influences from elsewhere.

Over the past 50 years, a nascent baking industry sparked first by Japan, then by an American presence, has flowered into a vibrant local scene. Influenced by Japan as much as France, Korean baked goods are generally sweet, fluffy treats, even when they reference savoury foods.

Manna’s onion “bagel” is a ring-shaped roll but it’s not a bagel in any traditional sense. Instead, it’s a fluffy walnut bread stuffed with caramelised onion and cream cheese sweetened with condensed milk. It’s the most marvellous kind of cultural mash-up.

The sticky rice doughnut is more of a street-food snack. Golden, crunchy and chewy, it eats superbly, like fried mochi.

Korean baked goods are generally sweet, fluffy treats, even when they reference savoury foods.

Manna is small and has no seating. Customers pick up a tray then inch their way along the shelves, making hard decisions every few centimetres. Every bun, bagel and roll comes wrapped in plastic, which troubles me: maybe there’s an alternative?

Apart from that, I’m won over by Manna, which is run by Sang Yong Shim, a Korean master baker who learnt his trade in Japan, and is largely responsible for bringing milk buns to Melbourne. He’s supported by his son Joseph Shim, who has put a teaching career aside to work with his dad.

The family business launched from home in 2017 and shifted here in 2021. Oakleigh isn’t easy for everybody, so they also do neighbourhood drops: keep an eye on their Instagram to order. I can only apologise if I already bought all the sausage rolls.