Baking

I love baking.  Unfortunately I cannot bake because I cannot eat what I bake, since I have to go on a diet, ingredients are expensive, and it is wastage not to eat what I bake.  Many limitations.  But I love to bake.

I started to bake when I was in Std 4.  I would peruse my mother's recipe book endlessly, just drooling over the captivating delicious pictures of all sorts of cakes, biscuits and pies.  I still remember the day I baked my first cake. Honey cake.  It turned out well.  I dare say so because even when my mum scolded me for actually baking a cake and not just imaginary baking when I play house, she had served some to my tuition teacher, Miss Procter. Miss Procter said that it was a good cake. For a 10 year old.  Then I was banned from baking.

When I moved back to KL, my baking utensils were among the selected things I brought back here. Other than my Arab books, my English books and my sewing machine. My few 'harta'.

Hajar has taken over the baking.  And if I let myself, I can start baking too. But baking but not eating is too difficult.

There is this cute bakery in the neighbourhood called Lil' Haven.  I befriended the owner, Su and have gone to buy her cakes many times, telling her how much I like her bakery, for her to keep it going and recommended my family and friends to buy from her.  We can eat there too. And if there is a vacancy at her shop, yours truly will be the first to apply.

Mother daughter cronicles.

Reading Amy Tan's book is one emotional journey.  The main theme of her books is mother and daughter relationship which tells us about her probably most greatest influence in her llife, her mum.

I identify with stories like this.  It touches many many chords in me.  That I end up so wretched.  Amy Tan is brilliant, just like Adeline Mah, two great chinese writers that have found their way dealing with their lives and their pains, hence their bestseller books.

I do not have that great talent in language to write like them.  But at  my level, write I shall because these itchy finger are real.  If Amy Tan says, writing keeps her from going crazy, well, writing simply makes me happy.

Mother daughter.  This runs deep. Me and me mum. My mother and I. Now the girls and I.  Life do not wish for other type of challanges for me other than what comes under this subject.  I are not getting away from this all grand-scale  knots or ties or binds . Ever ever.

Then again, for all that we went through, deep down, where it is pure and true, one thing rings, we are one, right till the end.

The last day for my mother, we were all at the intensive care in USM, Kubang Kerian. I was there for already many days.  Family, relatives and friends came to visit.  Mami was getting weaker and weaker, drawing further and further.  In the afternoon, those who were close to her, whom I know in their hearts wants to be with her at that critical time, went home for lunch and would come back after that, was never meant to be.

I had to see them out since the elderly ones were quite lost in the hospital corridors.  As I saw them out of the gate for visiting hours, I really heard my mum calling me in my heart.  It says, "come quick, I am leaving".  So clear.  I ran.

A few of us were still there. For many hours, she had been oblivious to those around her or what is going on.  Somehow Mami turned to my direction.  Signaled me to come close to read the kalimah.  Of all people, she called me, the offspring she scolded and scrowled at the most.  The one she never showed any sign of approval. The one she always 'put down'.

I read the kalimah even after she had breathed her last breath and closed her eyes.  I wanted to read it all the way up there.

That is how it is.  Underneath all the miserable memories, beyond what lies on the surface, whatever said and done, the bind never broke.

cubaan membunuh kucing. MEOOOWWW

hye ma, ecah, hajar and people!! tgk ni kucim ni pandai blakon! homaigod!

Walnuts

When my cousin, Faridah aka Ribut, came back from her Christmas Holidays with her in-laws in France, one of the things she brought back for me (for watering her plants) was walnuts.

There was a basket full of walnuts in the shells  in her house. She told me her French friend collected the nuts that had fallen from the walnut tree.  Wah!!!! Walnut tree!!! Here,  we get this expensive ingredient from the shop selling baking stuff.

As usual, I eat them sparingly, making sure everyone gets to taste them.  Forcing Mimi to eat more since walnuts are known as brain food and her exams are coming.  If anything,  it looks like brains.

But today, we tried a new recipe.  It turned out delicious.  Walnut Chicken.

First, cut the chicken into bite size fillets, no bones.

Fry garlic and ginger until fragrant. Add dried chillies which are cut about 2 cms. When fragrant, add the chicken fillets. Stir. Add soya sauce.  Cook some more. Add oyster sauce. Add big onion that are sliced into  wedges. Add chopped walnuts.  Add salt and sugar. Cook until slightly dry.  Hmm...Yummy.

There are  a few more  precious walnuts.  Maybe I will  make a carrot cake....

How I held up a line at Carrefour, Mid Valley

A good thing happened to me yesterday. We were shopping for the house and for our cookie orders.  It came up to quite alot.

So as I put my load at the cashier's counter, this nice cashier went out of his way to entitle me for 2 new year voucher which I actually did not know about.  I don't really read their catalogues, you see.  (I will from now).

For purchase up to RM268, you will get RM35 gift voucher, and for RM128, you will bet a RM15 gift voucher. He punched half of my things first, and asked me to pay the first portion and get the voucher.  Then he realised he  had to take away from the first portion,  in order to make up for the second portion and left the counter to call his supervisor  to unlock the cash register to amend the purchase.  After a few minutes, the supervisor came and the cashier took out paid things from my trolley.  Hajar was confused by all that is happening and slowly reversed to get away. Customers were leaving the line we were in. New ones came and asked, 'counter close ah?' The cashier was too focus to answer. Awkwardness was starting to creep in on me.

Punching the second portion, he said, 'tak cukup la kak'.  I called Hajar and said, 'Ja, cepat ambik Bliss tu dua', pointing at the chiller near by. She did.  Still not enough.  'Ja, ambik la yang Ja nak beli tadi tu". (meaning the bra that she put back) Not happy she went anyway. Many minutes passed.  Still not enough! Short of RM8. But we have coins! I started to rummage my purse and Hajar's purse for the coins, counting and panicking at the same time.  Oh boy, Oh boy.  The line was getting longer. They were rolling their eyes and giving me funny looks.  The next in line customer was getting impatient but was sharp enough to notice the problem.  I was running out of money! Major awkwardness. I was flustering underneath.

Then he said, 'punch my orange drink', participating in this 'race' of ours. We made it to the $128.  'I get lychee one you know'. I said okay and went to the service centre to collect my vouchers worth RM50. 50!!!! Can buy anything for RM50! Thats alot!

All this over,  lychee given to nice Chinese gentleman, tormented Hajar asked me, "Maaaaa, ma buat ape ni?' Still not getting the full picture of what happened. "Malu tau, kena pegi ambik bra'. I sympathised with her, knowing how easily she gets embarrassed.

"I was just seeing that the cashier got what he planned to do", I told Hajar." He went out of his way to get us 2 vouchers and I wanted to make sure he succeeded.  Kesian dia". Hajar was not convinced. " Betooooolll."

Its true, actually.  I was so taken by his nice gesture, that I endured the unbearable awkwardness holding up the line.  The voucher was second.

Its a good year.

A good response

The fear that no one would like our product was proven wrong.  They bought our goods, liked it and came back again.  I was overjoyed.  Is this really happening to us? Is there actually a market for our cookies and food? Is there a teeny weeny chance for this teeny weeny business to grow? It has been so long I felt this way that it felt strange.

For things not to go wrong as they usually do.

My dream is to be able to make an income and not to be a burden to others, by doing something we like. My cooking is fine for my family but to make people part with their money for it, I don't think so.  But, Hajar's cooking, yes, they would.

Sitting behind the 3' x 8' table, drapped with a compulsory maroon table cloth which I sewn myself, we display our durian cream puff, roti jala, chocolate chip cookies, chocolate chip and raisins and our latest, shortbread. And the fun begins. hihi.

My world open to meeting fellow flea marketeers,  all kinds of people and the world of commerce.

I love the wide array of things sold there. Very interesting and full of surprises and delights.  From clothes to food to plants to antiques. Antiques of pictures, vintage items, bric-a- brac, crockeries that would remind you  of your grandmothers' houses and collectors items of all sorts.

I got to know Kakak Hot Lagsane, Abang carrot cake, Adik chocolate, Abang t-shirt korea.  Yesterday Adik biskut conflakes asked me if it is Aishah, who was selling with me, the daughter who does the cooking.  He remembered my story. The mum. I am not invisible like I usually am to people.

Acceptance.

Alhamdulillah, Syukrulillah. I have to pinch myself.

new, new, new

A new home, a new business, a new surrounding but an old me.

As a child I had been painfully shy. I lack confidence and my self-esteem is dangerously low.  As I grew older and started reading, I read alot of self-help books and slowly cultivated my own remedies to overcome my shyness.  I remember when I was in school, my class teacher, Puan Habsah would try to get me out of my shell.  She would make me sing and talk in front of the class, I would whisper the song and she would say, "Kuat sikit, Noris, tak dengar".  She told my mum "dia pemalu sangat" and did not give up to make me go out to the front.  Alas, it worked but little.  What actually gave the boost of confidence was her liking my 'matured' handwriting.  She would ask me to copy the class's names on her register book. Her real register book!  hihi.

With my self-esteem still a problem,  how do I go to sell Hajar's cookies to the public?.  I had all sorts of feelings. Apprehension, fear of failure, shy with no experience in selling,  So I sat down and did some reality check.  What is the real thing?  Is my product good, yes. Is the price right? Yes.  Is the location right? Yes. What can the worse happen? No sales.  What will happen if people do not buy? Sad. Used to sad.  And if I fail? Used to that, too. 


Ready for anything and with a bucket full of doas I enter a new world in Amcorp Mall, Petaling Jaya.

Timur Field, A&W and Taman Jaya, do you remember me. Oh,how well I know the days of yesterday.

GG oven is off the ground

Before this, when I write about someone or something, I will put it under the best light and go from there.  It is not that every is fine and dandy, for the matter, everything is far from dandy.  But what is the point of telling the flaws and weaknesses of other people in this blog.  Not that by doing so it can change them.  And it does not seem fair to write bad things about others and  not do the same with your own self.

Like I said, for a long time, everything was far from fine.  This world is full of crap.  But who am I to judge, I am crappy too.

With Hajar not at the best point of her life, Allah is giving us rezeki from the product of her hands.  In my previous posts I had shared my vision  on having a small bakery and selling our foodies.  It has now became a reality.  Her cookies business is, if I may say so, promising. Syukur Alhamdulillah.

Will show you pictures soon.

Cats, birds and squirrels

Yup, I have home issues.  Moving alot from young till now is an indication of home  issues.  But you know, actually, it is also an indication of being not happy.  All my mum and I wanted was to come home.  Home to her was Kota Bharu and to me, Kuala Lumpur.  We went about one whole circle and back.  I thought it was me.  Well, it is me.  But not all me.  This actually happens, to many people. Finding home.  What was so illusive and felt like looking for a needle in a hay stack all this wide while had an easy answer.  Balik kampung.

I am now only one exit away from where I came from.

Before I live here, I passed here. That moment, my heart gave a leap.  But  I could not possibly stay here.  It is not in the plan.  The thought out plan. Well thought or not.

But I just had to come again, to see. And queitly I came. A few times.  One day, an extraordinary course of events happened.  My father, for the first time, understood my tiniest microscopic need.  With that one permission, he had untied me from my gruelling pattern and set me free.  After that,  I forgave him anything.  48 years of not really 'seeing' me  or 'caring'  is forgiven. He did one thing  crucial  after so long,  at the very end.  He let me come home to a place my late mother once hated. And only he could do that.

So here we are in this place where all of us are happy with.  We now have a lift. No more lunging heavy stuff 4 flights of stairs. Peace and quiet to study and sleep.  We have trees with birds and squirrels just across the balcony. Most of all, I can be myself.  For someone not so good with people, I do not have to be talk to everyone and not be miss-understood.  And my landlord is a decent man, not one out to take advantage of a single mothers at the end her wits with massive emotional baggages.. Syukur Alhamdulilah.

I am going into my 50s now.  Only to find the missing mosaics.  So important the pieces, because without them, all this would not make much sense.

Ok, I am off from Mimi's pretty room, to see the cats basking in the morning sun on the balcony, while I wait for the management office to open to get Mr Muthu to see the block in the sink.

Happy New Year!

As you can see, I have made a few changes this new year.  Something new would be nice after 2 years of blogging eventhough my readers are only a hand full. But I believe it is important to take care of something that you like doing and I like writing.  And with my intentions to make people smile and share a few knowledge and discoveries and experience is still very much intact, I am going 'orange' (layout colour) and show you a lioness.  It was over the other side in  her cage, but still, I am happy to have a lioness in my photo. For a bit of growl. That's  me and my simple pleasures.  And I have alot of simple pleasures since I did not go through much great pleasures in life.  Maybe if I did not bring myself to notice the simple pleasures there would not be any pleasure at all. hihi.  Then again, I am utterly grateful to Allah for whatever he has bestowed upon me. For He knows best what is good or bad for His slaves.

With Bismillahirohmanirohim, here I go.

When I first begin to blog, I was full of fear.  Fear that I would write nonsense. Fear of poor English or Malay. Fear of sounding dumb or out of line.  I think I have done all those in my post, but because writing comes  from somewhere deeper in me, I just kept on and on for the last few years.  I myself could not believe  that I wrote all that. hihi. Oh well, Nor-fish is here to stay.  Nak baca, baca. Tak nak, sudah. When I reread, in some post, maybe I sound like I am preaching, macam bagus je, when I myself is not so great.  But I still want you to think about it, laugh at me, but think about it.

I have so much to tell you.  About coming home.  About listening to your heart.  About everything finally seem to make sense.  About the truth that Allah says, Innama usri yusra. After hardship there is ease. About Allah will help our good intentions.  About every horse has its own field.

But for now,  I have this diversion. I am selling cookies.   I am now a cookie seller cum  blogger. Cute huh? Nor-cookie. And.... being a cookie seller, my world has became a bit more interesting.....