Saturday, August 15, 2009
I never used to enjoy food. I picked at everything on my plate, refused to eat fish, carrots, cucumber, cilantro, dumpling skin..and once, when I was 11, I spent 3 hours crying in the kitchen, holding a match because i refused to light it to cook my maggi.
And then I left home, and for the first time, I realized how much I had taken good food for
granted. On the odd weekend when we were 'allowed' out of boarding school, away from chicken puff daddy and ktj fried chicken, i gorged on the wonders that were roti boy, piping hot peking duck pizza and mee goreng mamak. I even went to church just so I could have the deliciously savoury wantan meen from the coffeeshop downstairs. dont judge me:(
The thing about good food is, it doesn't have to be expensive nor does it have to be served on the best china in a 5 star hotel. Some of the most fantastic meals I've had have been at the rankest places ever, where stall owners proudly proclaim they dont wash their dishes: "just dip in hot water and wipe wipe only! very fast one!" I swear this is why people talk so much at mamak stalls. It's to distract themselves from the fighting rats next to the drain where they wash the fishballs.
The best food however, to me anyway, has to come from my own kitchen. There is
nothing quite like the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls and hot steaming coffee and the anticipation of cutting into a beautifully risen roll...that first sharp crackle before the crust gives way to reveal a warm, pillowy centre...oozing melted sugar and gooey raisins...
Sh*t.. now i'm hungry. Somebody feed me.
Anything but carrots, cucumber, cilantro and dumpling skin. I still don't like them. Bite me.