The weather over the weekend was terrible, to say the least. All plans over the weekend were shelved including attending a friend’s birthday party at East Coast. Considering that i was really looking forward to getting out for a walk, the rain was a bummer.
But because of the rain, I found time to brush up on my culinary efforts. Notice I mentioned efforts and not skills because of the obvious.
Old boy once taught me the joys of pork fat melting onto a pan of potatoes and sprinkled with lots of oregano. The last time he cooked it for us, it left me with tears in my eyes because of the sweetness of the potatoes and the tenderness of the meat. I tried the same with a cut of rib-eye that was marinated with lime, soya sauce, cooking wine, and black pepper previously.
Somehow, searing the meat was like an ode to Old boy all over again. After all, that was how he was. Sweet and tender.
That was Saturday.
Sunday was spent mixing pasta with pesto sauce on Sunday for dinner. And yes, he taught me that as well. Cutting the long beans, carrots, corns, crab meat, bacons and mince meat was easy but the difficulty was coordinating the right amount of milk with the pesto sauce. I lost count of the number of times my tasting spoon dipped onto the pesto sauce.
I don’t really know if I was a good student, since I was banking on serendipity to guide me through but I guess the meals I cooked were decent enough.
Now, if only I can have an epiphany on how to make foie gras.
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Sumptuous, succulent and surprisingly, salty.
A company celebration brought us to Lawry’s at Paragon for lunch where we feasted on the physical and the aesthetics.
The interior of Lawry’s reminded one of the old English facade, with the high ceilings, classic cornices and the solid wallpaper decorations adorning the walls. Considering that the cheapest cut in the menu costs about S$59, i guess all of us would like to eat in a S$59 environment as well..
Now, back to the meat.
Most of us had the Lawry’s Cut (approximately 285g) and each prime cut comes with the spinning salad, mashed potates, choice of vegetables (either cream spinach or cream corn) and yorkshire pudding.
But because the meat was so tender and appetising, i was hungry 4 hours later.
Sigh, talk about hitting the sweet spot..
Anyway, if you’re interested, DBS card holders enjoy 1-for-1 on the ala carte menu during lunch so if you’re around the corner and a dbs cardholder, pop by and feast.
With each touch and stroke, his eyelids grew heavier. I stayed in a corner, running my fingers down the same spot, and watched his eyes close. Despite the pain, he remained silent and steadily, the breathing slowed to an inaudible pace.
The snores followed subsequently and the boy slept, peacefully unaware that I was (six feet) under the bed, crushed and pushed by his sheer strength.
But I laughed it off anyway.
And for the first time, in a very long time, I finally realised why I never had dreams of him. Because I don’t need dreams to tell me that he knew just how to make everything alright.
I’ve come to a stage of realisation that i cannot deal with it anymore. Not from an emotional point, a mental point, a physical point or a psychological point.
I am tired, resentful, hurt and withdrawn. I do not feel a sense of acknowledgment, a sense of relief or a sense of sensibility in my actions. I can’t sleep, i barely have my appetite, I’m popping pills and perhaps even drinking, every day.
This isn’t me but yet i am now.
And what lies beneath is a choice.
