In every meal there is a story

It was said, in a meal there is a story and every story there is a journey.

This is one loaded statement that can bring a foodie back to many happy places in the past because when there is food, there usually is love and family and friends. It makes you feel all fuzzy inside.

When we cook, it is not just love that gets into our dish, but like I wrote, a story and a journey.

The first dish I  actually cooked seriously was when I was around 16 years old, for my great-grandmother, Mok.

It was always the both of us in the house and she was so old that the house was permeated with ancient air and old stuff.  Old values, old teachings, antiques items like the 'gobek' and tepak sireh or betel leaves set, her worn out  'selendangs'  or scarves that smells like betel leaves that she would cover her head, even in the house. In the kitchen, brass pots with handles like ears  and brass ladles that would fetch a high price at the flea market today.

That day she was not feeling well, so I thought I'd do the cooking and had my heart on a crab dish.I guess I always did things that was beyond me, even now. I took a bus to the wet market, something I have not done before and felt quite lost when I arrived there, among the older folks that were coming and going with purpose and familiarity

I practically traipsed slowly on the wet smelly flour to find what I wanted.

It was a long way to the market and back but it was a new day for me with the crabs in my hand.

Mok taught me how to cook it and when we both sat and ate lunch, she did not comment much.  But Mok did not believe in complementing people because she said it would make them cocky.  So I never really knew how my crab dish fared that day.