Wind In My Head: My Little Refridgerator's All Grown Up.
Wind In My Head
Thursday, July 29, 2004
My Little Refridgerator's All Grown Up.
Last night, I went to see my mom because she had her other eye operated on. I'm told that it's routine for people her age to go for cataract surgery. Anyway, I go with the intention of saying hi to her and disappearing seeing that I was totally exhausted from watching 15 of Singapore's best woo and court our favour, trying to convince us that they deserve a spot on the national team.But it was not to be so.
There were these suspicious looking styrofoam boxes near the door, reminding me that I actually wanted to stay away from the house since my very loud, big haired, speaks only Cantonese aunt was down from NZ. Anyway, she came bearing gifts of meats. Well, actually a whole animal carcass. There were 2 legs of lamb, 2 rolls of sirloin, weighing up to 10kg and a hunk of roast beef. Anyway, seeing that my mother does not have an industrial restaurant sized freezer, she needed to borrow our freezer but insisted on us cooking the leg of lamb this weekend since it had actually started defrosting.
So, we heave one of the boxes home and fill our tiny fit for two people who don't eat in much freezer with meat of dead cow. The leg of lamb was a little more tricky. We had to cook it and we didn't know how. So, frantic phonecalls were made to the only chef we know for instructions of how to cook the ginormous leg of dead baby goat.
Anyhow, we were told to marinate it and Dan looked slightly ill as he compared the experience of marinating it with olive oil to giving a massage to a really cold thigh- I think nacrophilia came to mind.
And then the challenge of putting it in the fridge. Out came two shelves of ham, jam, juice and a whole lot of sweets and in went the lamb. All our junk food got squeezed into the top two shelves making it look cluttered. Then it dawned on me, my fridge looked like my mother's fridge, cluttered with bottles of strange unidentifiable liquids on the top shelves with breakfast type foods and raw food to be cooked at the bottom.
It made my fridge look all grown up but I wasn't too happy about it. I liked my fridge being filled with no real food. It reminds me of how we are not our parents. Now, my fridge is my mother's fridge, in every sense of the word since it holds all her meats and by extention of that warped but true logic, I am my mother.
Argh.
Ondine tossed this thought in at 13:36
7 thoughts...
-
At 4:50 pm
said... Necropihlia. And you call yourself a GP teacher. Shame on you! 8p
-
At 6:52 pm
said...
You know, you remind of Leong Ching, whose writing I sorely miss.
-
At 8:15 pm
Ondine said... Sorry. Confused it with some character from Diablo 2 but then again, I've just been told I got that wrong too. Time to find a new profession where my ability to spell necrophilia isn't crucial. :)
-
At 6:52 pm
said...
If it is what I think it is, and if memory serves me correctly, the bone-farming bugger is called NECROmancer.
-
At 11:49 pm
said...
... are you inclined to vegetarianism?
-
At 12:06 am
Ondine said...
I KNOW it's the NECROmancer, that's why I said I got that wrong too. And no, I'm not vegetarian or into vegetarianism. Like meat too much.
-
At 1:08 am
said...
My bad. Incidentally, I love meat too.