rasakan, sapukan

Another revenue cycle has closed at work and a new one begins. I sense a lot of mentally tired and demotivated people around me – or maybe I’m just projecting my own emotions to other people. Next week’s 3 day reservoir engineering school should liven things up a bit workwise. I just wish my fellow attendees were funner 😉 . A LOT funner.

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Besides eating out at new places lately, I’ve also ventured into cooking at home more. OK, maybe adding a cup of water to a Brahim’s masak lemak sauce packet isn’t really cooking, but hey! it’s still standing over a hot stove. Haha. You see, Stinky’s been complaining that I never cook anything besides pastas and stir fries. He wanted more traditional fare like curries, masak lemaks and whatnots. I listened to him telling stories of his late granny’s cooking prowess and took notes. Enter Brahim’s range of instant sauces and a case of duck eggs.

So a couple nights ago, I chucked chopped chicken into a bubbling yellow concoction and waited 14 out of the 15 minutes instructed. I then carefully dropped 2 duck eggs to poach in the sauce. A minute oe two later we were drowning our brown rice in the rich yellow lemak sauce while carefully avoiding breaking the egg yolks till almost the end. We also had some stir fried sprouts to break the monotony of all that yellow. Stinky’s assessment: “Smells the same, tastes almost as good as the real thing!”

What can I say, duck eggs kick ass.

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3 Comments

Filed under food, work

3 responses to “rasakan, sapukan

  1. Pingback: Home Cooking » rasakan, sapukan

  2. I believe I have been doing the same thing ever since we moved into the new house. So far I’ve fried kuey teows (as you’ve tasted), cooked Malay, Indian and Chinese dishes, baked cookies and cakes, made meatloaves and baked pasta. All this I achieved with a protruding tummy…so I hope when the baby comes out she’ll be either a doctor or a scientist or a wonderful chef. Better yet…she can be a the doctor chef and make tons of money. Hahahaha!

  3. thegrouch

    wow. if i were ever preggers, i’d prolly be hormonal and make people’s lives miserable instead of cooking things.

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