A Perfect Dream

08/07: Dinner

As a typical single person who has lived most of my life alone, dinners usually means fast takeaways, instant noodles or microwave packs. Most of the time, especially on weekdays, dinner means a few pints of beer washed down with a Guinness or a few glasses of whisky soda.

In the recent years, in a futile attempt to lead a more 'normal' life, I decided that I will make it a point to have a good dinner every sunday. You can call it a celebration of the end of a good weekend, or an inoculation to dampen the incoming monday blues. Somehow as I get older, weekends seem shorter and I get more desperate to make use of it to spend more time with the loved one.

So what constitutes a good sunday dinner? On a good day, when I am in the mood to cook, a couple of stir-fried meats, vegetables(usually cabbage) and one form of chicken soup. This combination might not mean much to most folks who live with their parents, thus never had to worry about dinner. I remember the days, years ago, when I was so broke that I had to survive on a packet of instant noodles a day. And I am determined not to let those hungry days haunt me again.

The 2 key components in a self-cooked, 'good' meal, to me are rice and chicken soup. Rice. I love the warm scent of freshly cooked rice. Somehow it evokes the sense of family, love and belonging. Chicken soup. Be it one of the various herbal forms or even chicken curry(even though chicken curry is technically not a soup), somehow always perks me up when I am down.

During the times when I was not in the mood for cooking, I would take a slow stroll to the nearby 'zhu chao' stall to buy some chinese takeaways consisting of similar dishes, but usually with more seafood(I am still learning how to cook seafood properly). I would usually buy in a portion for two, with 2 packs of white rice, and come home happily to enjoy the meal with the loved one.

With the recent turn of events, I am still desperately attempting to have this good dinner every sunday. I am still cooking for 2 or 'dabao' for 2 from the 'zhu chao' stall. Of course I can't finish the meal alone. The remaining food goes into the fridge for the weekdays when I come home drunk and hungry.

Last sunday, it was pouring heavily in the evening. Somehow it got me very angry with the heavens for trying to wreck my plans for a good dinner. I was determined not to stay in and be satisfied with instant noodles. It was good dinner'day. And instant noodles has no place on the dinning table on GOOD DINNER day. I left the house with an umbrella, and came home half-drenched with the piping hot usuals from the 'zhu chao' stall. I stared at the heavens with a smirk on my face, telling them up there that there is no way they can prevent me from my good dinner, on good dinner day.

As I tucked into my good dinner, a part of me realised, that I am just a stubborn old man trying desperately to stick to a routine while the rest of my world is falling apart.