Pam in Taipei

Natural Disaster Jogs the Memory

I've just finished cooking tomato pasta in my neglected Taiwanese kitchen, after stabbing open a can of Heinz after buying it unthinkingly at the Wellcome (I have not kept my kitchen stocked! I have a bottle opener but no can opener). Long lines of non-cooks harried in the midst of their typhoon preparations, and a gaggle of people at the Blockbuster counter across the way, hoarding DVDs in expectation of the next 24 hours trapped inside their apartments. Cabbage hiked up to NT$50 as Nicky warned us many months ago. Sometimes it takes a natural disaster to force you to reclaim your life from the automated machine of our modern age.

It is not exactly gourmet I am cooking tonight (I own one pot and no cutting board, I had to be modest in my aspirations!), but it feels as though I am clutching a reclaimed friend as I bring a glass of red wine to my lips after eating something I've made with my own two hands, however simple. I realized one reason why I have so much more time on my hands here - I don't cook. It's too "convenient" to go out to eat. (Since when have I chosen convenience when it comes to food?) I berate myself as I remember the good ol' days in my Halifax apartment: racing Eva to the food prep, spending an entire evening on a whim to make roti paratha from scratch, daydreaming in class about a trip to the grocery store and what culinary inspiration might come of it, poring over Jamie Oliver tomes, drooling as much over the food as the man.

It feels good to slip into old shoes(what is it that I used to do? Who am I? Oh yes, I cook, and I write, now I am reminded, transfixed by the sheets of rain which rattle my glass doors dangerously). As I slurp spaghettini in my nightie and blog, I think, "Tomorrow's typhoon will be like wrapping myself in a warm blanket of snow".

posted by Pamplemousse @ 8:37 PM