It’s morning where you are. Your husband is at work, your daughters at school. I imagine you at your kitchen table with some weak sunlight barely seeping in and a cup of hot coffee by your side. I am not entirely sure you drink coffee in the morning or tea, but I guess I impose my own habits and preferences on my visions of my friends, of you. (That’s weird, isn’t it? How I can feel so connected to you, and yet not really know what you like? It happens.)
These days, when I’m in my kitchen, I cook. In fact, I cook quite often. Usually a soup, something Chinese and clear the way Devil likes it (a remnant of his Cantonese nanny’s influence). ABC soup. Watercress. Old cucumber. It’s easy with a slow cooker. (I’m not gifted at cooking and have happily accepted this.) Some stir-fried greens – whatever’s fresh. Inevitably it’d be Chinese-style with garlic and a dash of Chinese wine and oyster sauce. Then a meat, which is my bane. Devil likes meat on bones, like chicken thighs, but I dread the stuff cos I never know how to get rid of the skin and fats and our chopper can’t cleave through the bone. Or I don’t whack it down hard enough, possibly. I prefer cubing chicken fillet or minced pork/beef, and I do those sometimes too. Ah well. You should have seen the disaster last night when I tried deep-frying a couple of well-marinated chicken thighs, only I tried to cheat with less oil and pouring the oil over the top of the meat, like I have seen on some cooking show years ago. Bloody lying cooking shows. It doesn’t work, at least not when I attempt it.
In the end I had to fry the meat twice, and it was over-cooked and dry. But tasty. (For I know how to marinate, that I do.)
Maybe all of this is a roundabout way of telling you I did no writing yesterday. It didn’t feel entirely wasted though. I watched Les chansons d’amour (directed by Christophe Honoré) for the umpteenth time. Haven’t done so in a while, but I recall when I first watched it, I had it on repeat. Young Parisians in love and grief, in a rain-washed Paris, joking and crying and laughing and skipping around, what’s not to love? And this while singing half the time. Not songs from actual musicals, but more light-weight modern French songs? (No choreographed dance routines, thankfully.) It’s lovely and there’s a character that only appears mid-way, this young French boy who’s in love and so insistently so — he’s someone you could fall in love with, not because he’s cute (though he is) but because he is so sweet and innocent and intelligent and hopeful.
He reminds me that beauty in the world need not be faded decay or cold plaster but pure joy. Happiness is beautiful, too. And you.
Kenny Mah believes in the good in people. He has been blogging for over ten years. No, his hands aren't tired. Yet.
Hehe next time u shd cook pork ribs for Devil… braise it, very very easy only.
The next time I cook pork ribs for Devil? Hmm. How about the next time Devil cooks for me instead? That sounds far more appealing. Agree?
meat on bones? head to KFC, buy a three-piece dinner plate, and ask them to give you all thighs! (you could then bring the chicken home before the devil comes back and try bluffing him by insisting that you fried them yourself!) :D
KFC? I think I’ve get me some Nando’s punchline, uhm, peri-peri chicken instead. Ahem.
wow…. writing …. thought made visible…
@The Yum List: That’s certainly a nice way of putting it, dear. Writing is thought made visible. Hooray.
You seem quietly happy. That’s good. =)
@Michelle: I am. Life is good. *smiles*
Since we’re talking about soup here. I’m taking a guess that you don’t go to morning wet markets to get your ingredients. So you go to supermarkets to get.. chicken and pork and what-have-you to boil the soup?
@Michelle: Exactly. The neighbourhood supermarket – convenience at its best. Heh.
We should totally trade kitchen disaster stories! I’ve been donning the apron in my cubicle of a kitchen more and more lately, and it’s been a learning process, to say the least!
@minchow: One of my biggest kitchen disasters was allowing my best friend into my kitchen and then counting the number of dishes she broke afterwards…
The whole idea is u cook for him (make him kam tong), then he cook back for u in return (without u having to ask mar). ;P
@Baby Sumo: He does cook and is a better cook, in fact. Hurrah!
the frying sounds so familiar. i am guilty of it. hate frying.
@missyblurkit: I’m okay with pan-frying/stir-frying — it’s deep-frying that seems to be such a waste of cooking oil, no?
Aiya, don’t stir fry like. Make a stew.
Just marinate your choice of meat. Brown the meat (divide into two batches for quicker browning). Let it rest. Saute some onions and garlic in some oil and perhaps, a dash of rum after a while. Add choice of your greens (ideally, celery and carrot) or beans. Incorporate meat Then let it sit in 200ml of chicken stock or 1/2 can of canned tomatoes with a pinch of chicken bouillon powder for a good 45 minutes. Add frozen pea 5 minutes before end of cooking time.
Season well. And there’s your meal.
@Michelle Chin: Thank you, my dear — though why on earth you left a recipe in the comments is quite beyond me. *guffaws*
Man can do cooking = good man :)
@Choi Yen: I agree. I totally agree. *winks*
There’s just something about eating together that creates intimacy.
@jemima: It makes all the difference, having that home-cooked meal together.
I cook almost everyday except weekends, and bake quite frequently.. Try bento for your family, maybe that is surprise for them..haha
@irenelim: Bento! I’d love to prepare one myself — been thinking about the bento sets Devil and I found all over Japan. So nice…