The wolves are howling outside the door. Winter has come early this year. Snowstorms are more common now; fatalities pepper the landscape like warnings. Stay and stray not outside, lest you invite Grandmother Death in as you wander. Do not wander. Be faithful to hearth and home.
Come inside, my dear, and sit with me in my kitchen.
I’ll throw more faggots into the fire; you are shivering. Here, a nice, big towel to wrap around you and keep you warm. You tremble so. We can’t have you catch a cold, can we? We’ll get you warm again, soon enough. You just stay put and don’t go anywhere. There’s only snow and ice and the cold outside anyway. It’s better in here, isn’t it? My kitchen and my skills would wilt from disuse but now let’s amend that.
Let me cook you something.
Do you remember when I used to work in the big kitchens, in them big, fancy hotels? That must have been years ago. Mad seasons. Time were, I could cook for twenty-four hours and still have strength enough to tumble a waitress or two before I headed home. To you. Ah, yes. You knew what was what, didn’t you? You were always a clever one you were. Perhaps more so than me. I doubt I’d ever know.
Hot chocolate?
That feels better, doesn’t it? The hot steam simply curls into your nostrils and nestles there. Fancier drinks I could brew for you but nothing does the trick better than a fresh mug of hot chocolate. Doesn’t hurt to slip in a drop or two of rum, no it sure doesn’t. Aye, just a drop or two. Nothing compared to what I used to throw back in those days. How I could drink like that and manage not to chop off a finger or seven while prepping the station, I’d never figure out. But here they are, all ten of my digits as sure as my name is…
You don’t remember, do you? My name? They told me that, after the accident. That’s a blessing it is. Forgetting everything. Forgetting your sins. Tell me, how does it feel like, living a fresh life?
No, don’t speak. Your dinner is ready. Why waste words when your tongue and teeth should be busy with this? I was a decent cook once, a great chef a few said, but maybe they were only saying that to appease me some. Still, this shouldn’t be half awful. Don’t you remember? It’s the last meal you made me. Hell, it was the first meal you ever cooked for me. Something special. You wouldn’t touch a bite of it, no, you made it special for me, sat there and watched me swallow every mouthful till there was none left and then you smiled. I thought then you finally found some joy in being a good wife cooking a good meal for her husband. I never did blame you none. I was a cook, after all, I could cook my own meals. But when a cook’s wife cooks for him, that sure makes him feel something special it does.
I made this exactly the way you made it, dear. Didn’t leave out a thing, not even the arsenic.
Go on, my love. Take a bite. Tell me what penance tastes like.
.
{ Special thanks to Big Boys Oven for inviting me to Cavallini’s at the Palace of the Golden Horses
and to Chef Ricky Parlanti for preparing such a magnificent meal for us. }
57 Comments
OMG… i wanna be the lucky wolf!
is that wagyu on the pan sitting on top of the stove?
*salivating*
feed me wagyu. i have forgotten how it tastes like.
zewt: Wolf? Wolf? I mean, sure this is an Italian restaurant review gone awry by the way of snowy winterstorms, wooden huts and woodsmen and lonely ladies lost in the, uhm, woods… but where’s the wolf?
But then, I guess I see the wolf too. Fits in perfectly, no? I wonder Lil Red Riding Hood still plays at visiting?
keropokman: Not wagyu, but Argentinian tenderloin. Darn tasty, I tell ya. Best dish of that night, and there were some mighty fine dishes, I tell ya…
who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?
see the big oven in the first photo, i guess you could bake a delicious wolf pizza in it.
the big pots just nice for braising wolf with wolfberry seeds. (goji - brightens your eyes too) LOL…
keropokman: Braised wolf with wolfberry seeds? Why, I guess I’ll just have to wolf that down! (Pardon the pun, couldn’t resist.)
Totally missed how the oven would nicely fit a wolf. Oh we’re going all fairytale here today, aren’t we?
I’m hungry! >_<
So you’re on the verge of blogging about food soon?
btw, is that a wood fired oven? LOL…
good old grandma should throw in apples, it would smell good.
i gather wolves will have a strong smell. maybe lots of oregano, rosemary, basil will go well with the marinate, then serve it with mint sauce.
jason: I don’t know. I can’t seem to begin to even contemplate writing about food without being distracted by Life itself and other interesting diversions. I will say, however, if nothing goes wrong, there’ll be a piece on baking posted some time next week.
Knowing me, something will go wrong and the baking class will somehow transform into a completely different creature altogether.
keropokman: Is this Grandmama’s Secret Baked Wolf recipe? Tell me it ain’t so! And you just shared it with the whole world!
(Okay, maybe not the whole world, just whoever drops by this blog from time to time. But. Still.)
that looks heavenly!!!!!! and what dslr r u using? (ok i’m asking way too many ppl the same Q LOL!)
my god i din know u’ve moved here for so long! arghhhh! i love love love your blog template… and how did u make those graphical blog posts using photos on ur first page? that’s so amazing!
The dinner was made out of overdose of love? So much love that it hurts. So much love that you want to carry it with you all the way to the grave. So much love that transcends all kinds of love. That kind of love.
kyh: DSLR? I wish! I’m just using a plain ol’ touristy camera. It’s just some careful work with Photoshop that creates the end result lah. No secret recipe for this one. Hahaha…
Not too long… just a couple of months methinks, since I moved my entire blog to this new address. Glad you likey.
gina: That’s one way of looking at it… I’m keeping this piece as open as possible so everyone can have their own read of it. Different people, different strokes and all that, yes?
food post! so when you cooking next? lol
Lianne: Cooking? I cook almost every day now but writing about it is a different matter. Perhaps I’ll blog about breakfast or baking next? Possibly both. Hehe. Watch out for it.
how did u tweak ur template to become like the main page of ur blog? i mean the ones with only pictures which correspond to each blog entry…
Does not look very Italian to me..first, there is Argentinian beef, then mention of wolfberries. Still…lucky you.
Throwing faggots into the fire?
kyh: Oh that’s part of the Wordpress template. Not much tweaking needed to the code. There is, however, tons of work to create additional images that are “tagged” to each post… so that they will appear instead of the posts on the front page.
To be honest, I’m still creating these tag images for my older entries. I believe I’ve regressed as far as mid-’07 but all the archived posts before that won’t show these images yet. At this rate, who knows when I’ll finish?
tigerfish: Well, the chef was Italian. His wife is a local though, so he’s very acclimatized so to speak. Wolves and beef, hmm…
Paul: Yes, we need them to feed the fire. What else would you do with that wood?
Nicely done, Kenny. Consistent tone throughout. The ‘plot’ reminds me of my own short story, in which the wife and husband fantasise about killing each other.
As usual, beautiful pictures well laid out.
argussimo: Heh, thanks. That’s mighty fine praise coming from a writer and editor such as yourself. I’ve to admit though, I can’t “do” plot, not to save my life. This whole story started with the first line, the imagery of the woodsman’s hut during winter and just sort of flowed from there, somehow in an awkward tandem with the images.
I’m glad the story is “open” enough that everybody can have their own interpretation. My dear is convinced this is a ghost story, hehe.
so is that meant to be a restaurant review? that has been taken apart and reconstructed into a story? i doubt this could ever happen in malaysia judging from the “snow and cold winter surroundings” but a hot chocolate is sure handy even in the coldest of offices..
lotsofcravings: No lah, this isn’t a restaurant review at all. What I meant was that I had intended this post to be a restaurant review (which goes to explain the collages: the 1st one shows the interior of the kitchen; the 2nd displays the food prep and cooking process; the 3rd pic demonstrates how a plate is finished culminating in the end result).
But.
Therein lies the danger of completing your images before your writing. Once I sat down to write the review, the music came on and I was carried away to a very different place. Not Malaysia, that’s for sure. Some place part fairytale, part urban landscape. If you can tell from the title (which is a rip-off off “Kitchen Confidential”), I was also partly influenced by Anthony Bourdain’s tales of how he’d stumble back home at the worst hours and I wondered how a chef’s wife would take it… or not take it.
Or I could just be craving a mug of hot chocolate cos I was cold in here…
Your pictures are making me very hungry, even though i am not a big fan of fine dining
I am confused, how is this article influenced by our conversation??
seowyin: Well, we were talking about unkers and ahntees, right? This is a bit like that, but darker, obviously.
And if these are making you hungry, I dread to think what the next couple of posts might do to ya…
errmm..why does “hansel and gretel” come to mind, eh? hehehehe….
penance tastes like organic soy burger. bah!
Nic (KHKL): Hmm… does this taste of gingerbread then?
Jun: Ewww. And. Yucks.
Somehow I find it really interesting reading this. It’s not mainly about food but also about life. Not a typical food review. A nice combination indeed!
Man, looking the pictures made me hungry again!
Glad it’s almost lunch time! Hee
Okay, I think you’ve officially scared me away. Oh, is it meant to be a positive review of the restaurant then? :-p ROFL.
Eudora: Dear me, used to be a time when no reader of my blog was assailed by this mysterious malady of visually-induced starvation symptoms. Must investigate…
Lyrical Lemongrass: It. Is. Not. A. Review. Doesn’t anyone read the comments? The review was inadvertently replaced by this instead. I blame Society. And Rock Music. Of course.
P.S. You so easily the scared away meh? Sure boh?
Can I be that wolf? Gosh, youre making my mouth water again
equilibrium2008: This ain’t exactly what I meant when I said I’d love to make you all drool… Over me! Not the food!
Oh I thought over the food…
Okay I will start to drool over you la.
Quite a dark piece. From a (an?) Emo King. Hitchcock-ish ending. Thumbs up.
equilibrium2008: That was a joke lah. I don’t want anyone to drool over me. Not hygienic. Hahaha…
Tummythoz: Aiya, another one of you. I am not the Emo King lah. Cis bedebah. LOL. Hitchcock-ish? Odd coincidence since I was discussing Hitchcock’s films with a film director over tea today. Eerie almost. But thanks for the thumbs up!
Is that so? Hmm I should tell that to other guys out there that it is not hygienic and because of that, they should not wish that
But with your skills in writing, I bet a lot of girls wants to be your girl la.
And seems like youre also a hopeless romantic 
equilibrium2008: I dunno. I don’t really believe in romance anymore. Just day-to-day routine. I feel mundane love is the best these days. No drama, just dinner on time while the other one does laundry. Taking turns with house chores. Now that’s what I call love.
Penance is bittersweet.
I like this oh Kenny! Bet you had a lot of fun writing this eh?
And despite this Not.Being.A.Food.Review, I think it has the makings of a great idea; deconstruct your food experience, add a generous dash of imagination and serve it up any which way you choose.
PS: Who says romance isn’t day to day routine? Romance is in being loving everyday through the most mundane and ordinary motions of life.
Michelle: I suspected as much.
Jackie: I believe you hit the nail on its head, dear. Knew someone would get it. (Now am I talking about the non-food-review or the non-romantic-romance or both? Hmm.)
you! once a cook! wow! i see we that we have many in common…food, writing, health/fitness and of course LOVE!
Yes Kenny, who says romance isnt a day to day routine just like Jackie said. hmmm….
rokh: Oh dear, I think you misunderstood… this is just a lil story I cooked up. I was never a chef nor was I ever (possibly) poisoned by my wife. Thing with my posts, you can’t ever take everything at face value or expect the words to match the pictures. (And even if they do, remain suspicious. It helps.)
equilibrium2008: Romance can be all style and no substance. Or romance can work a little harder and focus on love’s staying power. Take your pick.
Real romance isn’t just candlelight dinners (I’ve covered this before in prior posts) but why not find it in the day after day? Non-romantic romance (romantic here by all the huff and puff) is the most romantic I can think of.
as loving and touching as warm lovers should
backStreetGluttons: Loving? I suppose you could read it as such. I was actually going for more bitter and revengeful, but hey we all read things differently, no?
Ricky the Wolf? lol ……. such a gentle wolf! I love your imaginary way of presenting your story.
I will be having a project in July and would like to invite you to participate, if it goes well, it will be major project which covers through out malaysia!
big boys oven: Oooh, what mystery project is this? Do tell me more… you got me all curious and curious and curious, you have.
ah, I like the ins and outs of a huge kitchen like that. And the strong fire!
Hmm I think I will define love by defining it as being happy by loving that person without expecting anything in return from him. No matter how painful it is to know that a person can’t love you back, but you simply find your happiness by loving him, I think that is what I call true love right?
Aha, lucky you to be invited for dinner with BBO
Too bad my timing couldn’t permit any time for me to join u guys.
This is shameless……but do you cook like you write?????
I mean if you cook like you write….are u single ??? LOL
The diet of green apples is making me crazy……food…food..i need real food.
Anyway, on more serious note. I really like your blog entries….very very lovely indeed. I like the fact that there’s a story to it……nice.
Now I can go to bed and dream of snow storms, hot chocolates , warm bed and Anthony Bourdain????…..kekekekeekek
daphne: A strong fire is needed for strong flames that burn inside each of us, no?
equilibrium2008: If it’s enough, yes. The tricky part is knowing how much is enough.
A Lil Fat Monkey: Some time soon, when you’re less busy, dude.
MH: Do I cook like I write? It depends, I suppose on how poorly I write or otherwise. Now tell, how did it feel, waking up from dreams of snow storms, hot chocolates , warm bed and Anthony Bourdain? Curious minds wanna know… Hehe.
“I made this exactly the way you made it, dear. Didn’t leave out a thing, not even the arsenic.”
Enjoyed reading this one and loving the kitchen’s appliances.
Lee Ping (MrsHBT): Glad you enjoyed it, dear.
You wake up with a big fat smile, with that warm fuzzy feeling……felt as if you are back from a beach holiday!! All ready to go…until u get to the roads of KL at 8am in the morning….Reality bites in!!!!!!
MH: Hehe, this is why I only brave the roads of KL after 9:30am.
Such powers of evocation! This piece sparked such rabid images of intimate violence that I was spooked. Took me a few weeks before I could come back and leave this comment!
Camemberu: Hehe. Can’t be that scary, can it?
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