Part of the reason I decided to come home was because Kak Us’s on a 3-week Raya leave.
Every time that happens, all hell would break loose in this house. You could practically see the tension in the air. It’s like the tension fog.
There’s no better way to express it: WE HATE DOMESTICITY.
Since I’ve been home, I’ve been doing house chores i.e fold clothes, wash the dishes, sweep the floor and……cook.
Nothing major since Kak Us had frozen a lot of her dishes before she left. All we have to do is pop them into the microwave and hit the start button. And take away food are gifts from heaven. Especially those with delivery.
But sometimes there’s no escaping it. Though I’ve done my fair share of cooking in India, I’m hardly a genius in the kitchen. If there’s ever an award for The Most Talentless Cook, I would have tripped myself running to grab the trophy.
Browsing the net for recipes for breakfast, I decided to make fried noodles. How hard could it be right? It’s probably like making packet instant noodles. Hardly worth a sweat.
So at the ungodly hour of 2 am (I couldn’t sleep), I was in the kitchen banging the pots and pans.
An hour later, I came out of the kitchen with this:
My brother took one look and commented,
“Ew that looks gross.”
Shuddup la you!
“It’s………….mi goreng basah.”
There’s mi hun basah and kuey tiaw basah. Surely there’s also mi goreng basah right??
Arghhh I hate cooking.