Cooking
I’ve been cooking a lot recently, partly through the desire to economize since I’m not working, but also because I have the time and energy to cook. I missed cooking the sense of relaxation and disciplined process that goes about it, tinged with the creativity. I noted this evening that I’ve cooked for three girls in the space of two weeks - Hilary, Kit and Sharon.
For Hilary, I did a basic curry with ostrich meat which was interesting. It’s like beef but it’s apparently a lot healthier in terms of fat and cholesterol. For Kit, I decided to go a little more creative and try a variation of this Swedish my mother used to make called Puti Panne - basically diced potatoes and diced meat although I did a variation on that with Lap Cheung (Chinese sausage) and bacon.
At Sharon’s request I did a bolognese sauce. Simple enough (and again the Chinese sausage as a variation). It came out alright as it’s one of the first dishes I ever made when I moved away from home but the cooking became a little bit of disaster. Just when I started cooking the onions and bacon, a cup of hot broth spilled everywhere in the kitchen. It was in the process of cooling down and so when it spilled everywhere it just sort of solidified into a big mess in my kitchen. It was okay in that I could still pause the cooking process.
I thought the catastrophe was over once I cleared away the mess. Second disaster came right at the end, when I had the bolognese sauce simmering away, just cleaned everything else away and had butter garlic prawns grilling away in the oven. I obviously hadn’t put the cooking oil container away properly and it fell on my head when I opened the cupboard, spilling fresh cooking oil all over my kitchen. This was at 1955 when Sharon was due to arrive at 8.
Well, after cursing everything and everyone I know, I managed to clean all the oil up. It wasn’t the best cooking session I’ve had but I guess you’ll have those sort of days. I must say that I have a new found respect for my mother who always managed to get everything cooked and cleared away, table laid (properly) for six, managed to pick the right clothes to wear and still welcome the guests in a non-chalant “Dinner will be ready in a mo” sort of attitude.
I, of course, just bitched about slaving away in the disaster zone kitchen. Very welcoming indeed.
