Thursday, May 01, 2008



There is no denying it... I love food. The best food is made from my mother's hands. Sweet fatty pork belly, fresh water cress soup, beef brisket curry... mmm... her fatty pork is so soft and tender, with a hint of chewiness - that only time and careful monitoring can create.

Cooking, is science. It's less of a mystery if you can break it down into proteins and fats, and how they react to heat. I love being around the prickly heat of a hot pan with fresh oil, then loaded with garlic. I love watching sugar turn into a black color when being prepared for a sauce. I love the scent of baked chicken, the skin crisping under the hot broiler.

I've been spoiled. My mom is a fantastic cook. I've been brought up to eat the best of the best. Freshest ingredients, and a 4-5 course meal every day. Soup that had been simmered all day, and crisp green vegetables so appetizing that even a child could not say no.

What I've learned about cooking, is that the science can only take you so far. How do you measure a pinch, a bit, a dusting? How do you describe taste, flavour, the look? The more you cook, the more adept you become and 'feeling'... and feeling is what I do best. I love making a soup, and adding salt and doing a taste and tasting perfection. I love eating it the next day, and being reminded just how good it is. I love knowing that... I'm getting better, and am getting to understand just what a pinch, a bit and a dusting actually means.

I love food, and our relationship continues to grow stronger. Now I'm off to devour my fatty pork. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

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