I watched Bizarre Food yesterday. As a family we love it. We love him grossing us out… he he… Anyway yesterday he was in Korea and he said the beef soup he was eating reminds him of his mom’s pot roast.
I had always been an advocate of mums to cook because a lot of things that associate with food take me home. The sound of the pestle and mortar reminds me of home, the smell of curry and sambal reminds me of home, the sight of sayur kobis masak lemak reminds me of home. And all these reminder of home makes me happy, and warm and I feel loved.
All these reminders of home would make me see my mother in various stages of her age. When she was younger when she would cook in stylish trousers with aprons tied to her back. Her in kain batik, a bit older with her curly hair in a neat bob with an apron tied to her back. Then her now, much older with loose trousers and baggy t-shirts or embroidered blouses still there, standing in front of the stove, cooking for her children. Apron a permanent fixture.
Recently I got upset with her. She had wanted to cook rendang for me to buka. Around 5 she called to say that she can’t make the rendang after all as she had just returned home after one whole day at her shop. Can I just make ayam masak kicap instead, she asked.
“Mum… you sound tired, Mum. Don’t cook. I’ll be fine, I can just eat outside…” Said I.
“No… no…. Makcik Idah took out the chicken already, so I can just cook now. Just want to ask if ayam kicap is okay for you ?”
“Mum… you are tired, please go upstairs and rest. Please don’t cook…”
“No lah…. I still have to cook anyway. Mummy masak aje lah …”
“Mum ! Why you bother ? I will eat outside !” I was so rude. She sounded tired, and I mean well. I just want her to rest.
“Takpelah… the food outside is not nice lah A…. You can eat here or just pack the food bawak balik. If you don’t want pun tak apa, I will still have to cook….”
Regret and exasperation mixed.
“Mum… why can’t you just ask Makcik Idah to cook… Kan senang….”
“Alah… budak-budak won’t eat if she cooks. Alah senang aje, she has prepared everything, I just cook… I don’t have to do anything….”
With that she bid a hasty goodbye and I sat on my chair, stewing with worry and regret and frustration.
When I go home and I mean my home with my family in tow just before adzan, there were fishball soup and ayam kicap and sayur kobis goreng and bubur kacang.
She was so happy to see us, her face lit up.
She sat with us, made the drinks, pushing food to my husband and my kids and talked a mile a minute.
The food was good and I went home a much chastised daughter. But I just don’t want her to trouble herself. That is all. But she knows eating her food makes us happy. Even my husband sometimes asks if Mummy is cooking anything that day.
So again, food reminds me of home. The sight of chocolate eclairs and cream puffs reminds me of my mother bending to pipe the pastry. Puris and murtabak reminds me of her with her rolling pin, cross-legged on the kitchen floor with her pastry table. Bubur gandum reminds me of happy afternoons with my siblings as she walked past us, busy doing whatever a mum has to do.
So a mother has to cook. It doesn’t matter if you suck at it because your kids won’t know, won’t care plus, their taste bud is developed by you. Whatever you cook would come out amazing because they are used to your brand of cooking.
Adik and Abang love it when I cook. “You are a good cook, Mummy !” Adik would say every time and I mean every time she ate anything done by me. Bukannya sedap sangat pun but she is used to it.
Like when I was pregnant with Adik, Kak Jo the cleaner at my first outfit asked her mom to make some pecal for me. She oooh-ed and aaah-ed her mom’s kuah pecal so much that the sight of the tupperware with the much raved about kuah pecal in it made me want to swoon.
Anyway, Kak Jo was the first to take a bite and she closed her eyes, and went ummmm….. in ecstasy. I quickly took a bite and … it sucks. Because makcik tu letak belacan and I dah tergigit belacan yang tak hancuq. Ok, never mind. Washed my mouth and took a belacan free bite but I failed to be swayed by its beauty. Because to me the beauty isn’t there. Nak kata tak sedap, tidak lah pulak but I have had better. Namely my mum’s.
Disappointed, I complained to my mom. She laughed. “Memang lah dia suka mak dia masak… Dia dah biasa. Kalau dia makan Mummy punya pun, I am sure she will say not as good as mak dia punya.” Never ! I said and my mom just laughed.
So …. What is the point of all this ? Masak lah… Hancus macamana pun anak-anak need the memories. Surely you can manage fried eggs ?
Macam pandai aku ni… he he… To each his/her own lah kan… ?
PS : My pot roast is very dry. How can that be ? 8 hours of roasting in the pot and it came out dry… Any ideas ?
I had always been an advocate of mums to cook because a lot of things that associate with food take me home. The sound of the pestle and mortar reminds me of home, the smell of curry and sambal reminds me of home, the sight of sayur kobis masak lemak reminds me of home. And all these reminder of home makes me happy, and warm and I feel loved.
All these reminders of home would make me see my mother in various stages of her age. When she was younger when she would cook in stylish trousers with aprons tied to her back. Her in kain batik, a bit older with her curly hair in a neat bob with an apron tied to her back. Then her now, much older with loose trousers and baggy t-shirts or embroidered blouses still there, standing in front of the stove, cooking for her children. Apron a permanent fixture.
Recently I got upset with her. She had wanted to cook rendang for me to buka. Around 5 she called to say that she can’t make the rendang after all as she had just returned home after one whole day at her shop. Can I just make ayam masak kicap instead, she asked.
“Mum… you sound tired, Mum. Don’t cook. I’ll be fine, I can just eat outside…” Said I.
“No… no…. Makcik Idah took out the chicken already, so I can just cook now. Just want to ask if ayam kicap is okay for you ?”
“Mum… you are tired, please go upstairs and rest. Please don’t cook…”
“No lah…. I still have to cook anyway. Mummy masak aje lah …”
“Mum ! Why you bother ? I will eat outside !” I was so rude. She sounded tired, and I mean well. I just want her to rest.
“Takpelah… the food outside is not nice lah A…. You can eat here or just pack the food bawak balik. If you don’t want pun tak apa, I will still have to cook….”
Regret and exasperation mixed.
“Mum… why can’t you just ask Makcik Idah to cook… Kan senang….”
“Alah… budak-budak won’t eat if she cooks. Alah senang aje, she has prepared everything, I just cook… I don’t have to do anything….”
With that she bid a hasty goodbye and I sat on my chair, stewing with worry and regret and frustration.
When I go home and I mean my home with my family in tow just before adzan, there were fishball soup and ayam kicap and sayur kobis goreng and bubur kacang.
She was so happy to see us, her face lit up.
She sat with us, made the drinks, pushing food to my husband and my kids and talked a mile a minute.
The food was good and I went home a much chastised daughter. But I just don’t want her to trouble herself. That is all. But she knows eating her food makes us happy. Even my husband sometimes asks if Mummy is cooking anything that day.
So again, food reminds me of home. The sight of chocolate eclairs and cream puffs reminds me of my mother bending to pipe the pastry. Puris and murtabak reminds me of her with her rolling pin, cross-legged on the kitchen floor with her pastry table. Bubur gandum reminds me of happy afternoons with my siblings as she walked past us, busy doing whatever a mum has to do.
So a mother has to cook. It doesn’t matter if you suck at it because your kids won’t know, won’t care plus, their taste bud is developed by you. Whatever you cook would come out amazing because they are used to your brand of cooking.
Adik and Abang love it when I cook. “You are a good cook, Mummy !” Adik would say every time and I mean every time she ate anything done by me. Bukannya sedap sangat pun but she is used to it.
Like when I was pregnant with Adik, Kak Jo the cleaner at my first outfit asked her mom to make some pecal for me. She oooh-ed and aaah-ed her mom’s kuah pecal so much that the sight of the tupperware with the much raved about kuah pecal in it made me want to swoon.
Anyway, Kak Jo was the first to take a bite and she closed her eyes, and went ummmm….. in ecstasy. I quickly took a bite and … it sucks. Because makcik tu letak belacan and I dah tergigit belacan yang tak hancuq. Ok, never mind. Washed my mouth and took a belacan free bite but I failed to be swayed by its beauty. Because to me the beauty isn’t there. Nak kata tak sedap, tidak lah pulak but I have had better. Namely my mum’s.
Disappointed, I complained to my mom. She laughed. “Memang lah dia suka mak dia masak… Dia dah biasa. Kalau dia makan Mummy punya pun, I am sure she will say not as good as mak dia punya.” Never ! I said and my mom just laughed.
So …. What is the point of all this ? Masak lah… Hancus macamana pun anak-anak need the memories. Surely you can manage fried eggs ?
Macam pandai aku ni… he he… To each his/her own lah kan… ?
PS : My pot roast is very dry. How can that be ? 8 hours of roasting in the pot and it came out dry… Any ideas ?
.
PS : Tak berterima kasih langsung kat mak Kak Jo... Sorry makcik...
10 comments:
so true la myra. aku jarang ngat masak. tapi sekali masak tu habis licin je anak2 makan.
haishh!!!
mode insaf sekejap.
so about timelah ikut laki pi uk nih. setahun nak kena masak nih!
pengsann!!!
:P
Myra,
Pot roast takpa, jgn dia kata pork roast, muntah ijau kat situ, tgk dak Anthony Bordaine makan teluq lembu kat mana tah????? Allah hu akbar.
Ur mom and mine buleh buat persatuan ibu2 yg mendapat kepuasan thru penyiksaan diri sendiri, hedonist ka pa.
My mom anak 4, campuq hasben sendiri, campuq menantu 3 ketui,
Buka puasa time, or raya time dia boleh pulun masak everybody's favourite. Serupa restoran. Walaupun lutut pun longgaq dah, penat ketaq2, haru sungguh. But no point stopping them la I guess, they enjoy it.
Myself, anak2 i pun slalu puji bila i masak, lagi sedap dari restoran punya, tu dia, depa punya auta beli jiwa ok.Betui la masakan mak sendiri kan. Kita boleh ka jadi mcm mak kita when our kids dah besaq pnjg???? I takut sok, I cakap "nak suh mummy masak? kem salam, pi makan kedai la senang, mommy nak pi pocho-pocho ni ngan aunty Myra , buleh?????
Betul sgt2 Ala.
My mom masak sesekali aje but when she cooks, it is always sgt sedap to me. On weekends when I (only) cooks, Ayesha would go "sedap sgt la Mama masak ni!" while her father tak cakap apa tapi tambah 2-3 kali sampai lincin.
He he... betul. Masa ni lah nak cuba pelbagai resepi.
Ya.. tak kisahlah seminggu sekali pun tapi anak2 rasa air tangan kita kan ?
OMG you are so lucky mak hang sgt enjoy masak utk anak2. hmm.. wont elaborate much about that.. hmmmm..
tapi btui la.. aku yg tak pandai masak ni pun, balqis sgt suka klu aku masak.. buat sandwich telur bodo2 pun dia kata sedap sgt sampai menjilat jari! muekekeke..
kena rajin masak nieh!
aku masak weekdays...licin..
wife masak weekend...licin jugak..
apa maknanya tuh???
aku seorang obes...hahahaha
Sheik belum lagi...
DR.. awat ur comment tak masuk my e-mail ? I baru nampak sat tadi masa masuk dashboard...
DR... mak2 ni mmg terer na... Kadang2 I rasa depa rasa nak tangkap kita balik dgn masakan depa.. Mcm itu saja yg boleh panggil kita balik rumah...
Pastu kan I suka pi pocho2 ! Ada jugak kawan nak pi di hari tua... Ha ha
Konot... hang punya pun baru masuk.. awat no ?
Kesian buadak2 kan ? Kita nak balik rumah masak tapi boss suruh dok office lagi... Macamana kan ? Boleh tak govt buat law tak bagi pekerja duduk office after 6 pm ?
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