"Do you realize," He commented in jest, "that you've been at it for nearly an hour?"
Earlier on, Dad were in the kitchen preparing dinner. Today is a free day for me; come to think of it, this week is a breeze (I only need to go back to Boon Lay only on Tuesday and Thursday)! I bounced to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. It was 3pm. He was by the sink, washing the veggies. I eyed the packages of frozen pork on the counter.
Dad has always been a wonderful cook. He would cook dinner before heading out for his evening shift work. This explains why, sometimes, I'll have a super early dinner at 4pm+ (well, the food is already there. Might as well eat. 早 吃 早 消 化。 Less fattening). How he manages and juggles both roles so well, I have no idea. For sure, it is taxing and tiring. Since I'm practically almost freed up from school, might as well put it to good use.
I took a pair of scissors, slitted open the packages, and emptied the contents into a clean bowl. "I'll jiak-par-lamg, ok? If it's nice, tell them that I'm the one who marinated it." I giggled, "If it turns out gross, it's you, ok?"
Squatting down, I opened the base cupboard. The eyes sweep across the different containers and bottles, while the brain mentally explored the contents in the refrigerator. Dad has always been a natural at cooking; he can put some weird ingredients together and, viola!
He just has this unknown talent in cooking; he has this magical touch. Momentarily, I wondered how would my marinate turn out. Normally, as a mediocre beginner, I would source out only recipes with raving reviews and try them out in my own leisure time. I don't have - yet - the expertise to solely go by the taste buds. Without a recipe to follow, I feel momentarily lost. This is a quite like a gamble. Concentrating, I wondered how well would the various combination of condiments compliment each other, while not being too overpowering.
Light soya bean. Sesame oil. Paprika pepper. Black pepper. White pepper. Sugar. Teriyaki sauce. The last choice of condiment - I admit - is purely out of curiosity sake and nothing else. Hey, if something had been done the same way thousands of time doesn't mean that it necessarily have to remain so all the time. Sometimes, a little change is refreshing and needed. It is good to be different.
I settled the bowl of marinated pork down on the dining table. Dad suggested, "Do it 水 饺 style. The meat filling seems to be alot. Won't be able to finish it all if it's done in wan tan style."
I deliberately plastered on a long-suffering look and whined. "I don't know la. Only wan tan style."
"Wah lau... So easy you also don't know?" He took a piece of flour cake and plonked a tablespoon of meat filling on top of it. "Like this lor, so easy." He folded it into half and proceeded to twist and pinch the corner.
"There! Ta-dah!" He lifted up his pork dumpling on his palm happily.
I pretended to evaluate his piece of work. "It looks ugly leh. Not like those restaurant ones." I decided, "I'll do it curry-puff style!"
And so I did. For the next hour. I made my virgin 水 饺; 30+ of them. While he fried some eggs and cooked a bowl of cai xin.
When he was done with the two dishes, I still had about 4/5th of meat fillings left. "You're such a slow-poke!" He teased.
"That's not fair! Yours is so simple, anyhow fold fold one; but mine is CURRY-PUFF style leh. Cannot compare!" I protested.
"Who asked you to make curry puffs."
"Looks more presentable and pretty, mah"
"Eat liao come out also the same thing, what."
"No lor," I lunged into a defense, "See ah... When you cook ah, must cook with the heart, you know? Cook with the HEART. Aiyooo..." Rubbish, I know, but I argued just for the fun of it.
A special a-la-carte plate of pork dumplings! 'Cos I prefer my dumplings steamed. Not boiled in some soup.
"You see, you see!" I beamed, "Pretty anot? Curry-puff style, leh!"
"Pretty also no use," Dad took a look and concluded grandly, "Mine is the authentic 水 饺. Yours are all curry puffs. The one that I made is the real one which look like the real 水 饺!!!"
Yeah, right, Dad. Try harder.
P.S. The meat marinate turned out great! =)
Earlier on, Dad were in the kitchen preparing dinner. Today is a free day for me; come to think of it, this week is a breeze (I only need to go back to Boon Lay only on Tuesday and Thursday)! I bounced to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. It was 3pm. He was by the sink, washing the veggies. I eyed the packages of frozen pork on the counter.
Dad has always been a wonderful cook. He would cook dinner before heading out for his evening shift work. This explains why, sometimes, I'll have a super early dinner at 4pm+ (well, the food is already there. Might as well eat. 早 吃 早 消 化。 Less fattening). How he manages and juggles both roles so well, I have no idea. For sure, it is taxing and tiring. Since I'm practically almost freed up from school, might as well put it to good use.
I took a pair of scissors, slitted open the packages, and emptied the contents into a clean bowl. "I'll jiak-par-lamg, ok? If it's nice, tell them that I'm the one who marinated it." I giggled, "If it turns out gross, it's you, ok?"
Squatting down, I opened the base cupboard. The eyes sweep across the different containers and bottles, while the brain mentally explored the contents in the refrigerator. Dad has always been a natural at cooking; he can put some weird ingredients together and, viola!
He just has this unknown talent in cooking; he has this magical touch. Momentarily, I wondered how would my marinate turn out. Normally, as a mediocre beginner, I would source out only recipes with raving reviews and try them out in my own leisure time. I don't have - yet - the expertise to solely go by the taste buds. Without a recipe to follow, I feel momentarily lost. This is a quite like a gamble. Concentrating, I wondered how well would the various combination of condiments compliment each other, while not being too overpowering.
Light soya bean. Sesame oil. Paprika pepper. Black pepper. White pepper. Sugar. Teriyaki sauce. The last choice of condiment - I admit - is purely out of curiosity sake and nothing else. Hey, if something had been done the same way thousands of time doesn't mean that it necessarily have to remain so all the time. Sometimes, a little change is refreshing and needed. It is good to be different.
I settled the bowl of marinated pork down on the dining table. Dad suggested, "Do it 水 饺 style. The meat filling seems to be alot. Won't be able to finish it all if it's done in wan tan style."
I deliberately plastered on a long-suffering look and whined. "I don't know la. Only wan tan style."
"Wah lau... So easy you also don't know?" He took a piece of flour cake and plonked a tablespoon of meat filling on top of it. "Like this lor, so easy." He folded it into half and proceeded to twist and pinch the corner.
"There! Ta-dah!" He lifted up his pork dumpling on his palm happily.
I pretended to evaluate his piece of work. "It looks ugly leh. Not like those restaurant ones." I decided, "I'll do it curry-puff style!"
And so I did. For the next hour. I made my virgin 水 饺; 30+ of them. While he fried some eggs and cooked a bowl of cai xin.
When he was done with the two dishes, I still had about 4/5th of meat fillings left. "You're such a slow-poke!" He teased.
"That's not fair! Yours is so simple, anyhow fold fold one; but mine is CURRY-PUFF style leh. Cannot compare!" I protested.
"Who asked you to make curry puffs."
"Looks more presentable and pretty, mah"
"Eat liao come out also the same thing, what."
"No lor," I lunged into a defense, "See ah... When you cook ah, must cook with the heart, you know? Cook with the HEART. Aiyooo..." Rubbish, I know, but I argued just for the fun of it.
A special a-la-carte plate of pork dumplings! 'Cos I prefer my dumplings steamed. Not boiled in some soup."You see, you see!" I beamed, "Pretty anot? Curry-puff style, leh!"
"Pretty also no use," Dad took a look and concluded grandly, "Mine is the authentic 水 饺. Yours are all curry puffs. The one that I made is the real one which look like the real 水 饺!!!"
P.S. The meat marinate turned out great! =)
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