Act 3. SMELLS LIKE MEMORY [ Soups, Rice, Slow-cooker ]

Every chapter

needs a good closure.

_____________________________________________________________

The phone has gone silent.

I’m not in a rush.

I’ll remember these slow mornings

The promotions can wait.

_____________________________________________________________

Morning 21 - 30

Fish balls and Lettuce Soup

Sweet Potato Bonito Rice Porridg3

Prawn Omelette over warm Rice

Miso Soy Grilled Onigiri

Honey Soy Chicken Wings26. Green Apple Chicken soup

8-hour Chicken Veggie Soup with Bonito

Slow Cooked Beef Bone Soup, Meat Balls, and Watercress

Kua Chai Pui — Umami Rice with Bitter Mustard Greens, Scallops & Super Cold Ice Water

Galbi Yakitori with Peanut Butter and Honey Mayo

_____________________________________________________________

Fish balls and Lettuce Soup

I can’t recall—

when did I start wearing glasses?

Why was it again?

A pretty, clear soup.

I could see the base of my mug-bowl.

It has an owl.

Now it is accompanied

by boing-boing fish balls,

and a teaspoon of golden fried garlic oil.

Steam whited out my glasses,

of barely minus point twenty-five.

I tossed them atop of the dusty piano.

_____________________________________________________________

Morning 22

Sweet Potato Bonito Rice Porridge

Orange and yellow

sweet potato chunks

bopping in the broken-up rice.

The cold rice in the pot

was leftover from dinner.

My Grandpa,

Hokkien to the bone,

would scoff at making porridge this way.

“It has to be a handful of fresh rice

and a potful of water!”

His dinner was always white rice gruel,

A taste that took him back

to his younger military days.

And a glass of red wine

that belonged to celebration

of his days as a trader.

My Grandma,

ever the vivacious ones,

who taught me

to put colour in the roots.

_____________________________________________________________

Morning 23

Prawn Omelette over warm Rice

Curled like prawns.

I woke up late,

like I had never slept.

Rest is a recipe too.

Mine was magnesium,

A chamomile foot patch and

A vivid dream of omelets

and fresh river prawn.

The aroma of cooked rice

slipped through the gap beneath of my door.

“Ten more minutes.”

I mumbled.

And went back to sleep.

_____________________________________________________________

Morning 24

Miso Soy Grilled Onigiri

Today after the pause,

I still woke up early.

Four rice ball

Shaped with both hands.

Butter.

Red miso paste.

A hint of soy sauce

On the grill.

I still put on my watch.

The dial throws

little prism of light

across my car.

Orange-haloed sunrise

over the flyover.

My kids in the backseat,

their favorite music playing.

I still have my to-do lists.

Sixteen lines a day.

So much more

I’m going to do.

But before all that,

a good cup of V60.

_____________________________________________________________

Morning 25

Honey Soy Chicken Wings

How do you like your wings?

Salted egg curry leaves?

Gochujang sesame seeds?

Seaweed Mayo?

Infinite creation

learnt from the experts—

the kids.

Seasoned overnight

with sweet soy sauce, molasses,

garlic, sugar, lime leaves.

Scrambling the night with PPTX decks.

No more.

I drizzled more soy sauce

for the heck of it.

The hot pan sang louder.

Translucent Manuka honey to finish.

Its sticky golden strings

would delight the kids

as they pulled the wings apart.

_____________________________________________________________

Morning 26

Green Apple Chicken soup

Eight a.m.

The house has sounds.

Whistle the cat sneaked in,

scurrying away from the neighborhood cat fight outside.

My left neighbor’s knocking grew into a crescendo against the wall -

must be hanging a picture of his new grandchild.

Firmly sliced green apple halves

on wooden cutting board,

I dropped them gently into the slow cooker

“What a weird combo, Grandma..”

I muttered.

The green apples

were too sour.

But they blended beautifully

into the chicken soup.

“Sometimes apple, sometimes pear.”

I repeated her words,

word-for-word,

in her dialect.

_____________________________________________________________

Morning 27

8-hour Chicken Veggie Soup with Bonito

Eight quiet hours.

But I couldn’t sleep a wink till morning.

This time, for a happy reason.

I went up and down the kitchen,

carelessly,

loudly,

impatient.

Umami steam.

Golden chicken oil floating.

Mushy-edged root veggies bopping.

Collagenous chicken feet,

their joints loosened.

A bowl of this is precious.

Oh! My slow-cooked chicken soup!

Sprinkled some bonito shavings,

And closed the glass lid

of my slow cooker.

_____________________________________________________________

Morning 28

Slow Cooked Beef Bone Soup, Meat Balls, and Watercress.

There’s magic in beef bone soup.

It introduced me to Ma’s slow cooker,

It fully recovers our HP/MP.

Funny,

I once cooked beef

and broke a brand-new pressure cooker.

Perhaps I wasn’t fated

to cook it this way.

She had been simmering on Low

since before midnight.

By morning,

the aroma had greeted the house.

Thirty minutes before those little feet

came stomping down

the soft wooden stairs.

Sneakily,

I hid a bunch of watercress

behind the meatballs.

_____________________________________________________________

Morning 29

Kua Chai Pui— Umami Rice with Bitter Mustard Greens, Scallops & Super Cold Ice Water

Ten a.m.

An inherited taste.

Not for everyone’s palate

but it carried my ancestors with it.

Wilted bitter mustard.

Chunks of its stalk.

Long, stringy pieces of shredded leaves

Folded gently into

barley and white rice.

Deep umami from scallops

and powdered dried ebi shrimp.

Closed the rice cooker once more,

letting the steam complete its final touch

Ice-cold water,

a big no-no from my aunties.

Yet I poured into my favorite crystal cup.

_____________________________________________________________