I have a few friends in my life. When I say one of my hobby is running, I meant it literally and metaphorically. Not so many people are fond of friend that shows up and sprint down into a vortex of time travel and magnetic airfield of Lost once the going gets tough. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t leave friends when its their crunch time, I leave when its MY crunch time. I hide when Im scared or upset. I hide in my job or in my running or in both. But when things get really tough, I just hibernate, one time I actually considered taking up a job in Barbados or Tobago Island or something. Sorry, its off season right not but we will contact you when we have an opening . I don’t know if I am wishing that there would be a job on the peak season for me, cause that would mean my problems stretching out to the peak season of Barbados, which is half a year away at that time. I guess that's not good then Nonetheless, there are a few who will test your abilities in Hide and Seek. There are those few that would scrounge, call out your name after a swear, and a loving scream of where the hell are you. There are those few that knows why, and would not stop knocking and tearing down the wall which you disappear into. I have few. I have probably three. And this is an ode to them. Now, I cook rather than running. Yeah, I know not really the best diet decisions, but I still run literally so I guess it's still all right. But I don’t do my metaphoric hiding away, or I plan not to. Hence this.
I would rather disappear into a sorta culinary monologue of a British escapade. Because I don’t want to escape anymore. This is to the first of three. My college bestfriend who had lovingly picked me up everytime I fall into pieces with each false alarm for love. To my bestfriend who had patiently scoured England for the ghosts of me in 3 months. To my bestfriend who knows my soul and Sh*t and didn’t walk away. To my bestfriend who knows the darkest of my thoughts, and bleach it off with her sisterly reproach. To my bestfriend who forgave me for being me. I owe my new year to you. This is a tribute to you. To our sisterhood and our fights, to our had-beens, has –beens, and will-bes, to the boys who had hurt us and the men who will deserve us. To the family that we fought for, and the family that you made me part of. To college, and a very long life after it. To chupa chups and haagen dazs, and all the sugar in the world. To every single day that I have had a sister since I met you. Thank you. I love you my sister in life. You know who you are. Ex Ow Ex Ow. :) Come over and we’ll cook our troubles away.
To the other two, one had called me up every week for the last one year (her mom is not happy with the bill, nonetheless Aunty always says her sincere hello everytime, hence I love her family), and the other who had never left me as a friend since we were nine albeit everything that has happened in our lives. Cheers to friends who dont have a perishable date. to Friendships without a Best Before. To relationships without a deadline and a shelf life and to People who stood by you even though you used to cook like a five year old. worst than a Fiver, actually.
This soup is an ode to our dreams and our friendships. To travel and escapades, and to friends who will be there to ask how it was. To friends who support your odyssey and fight the battles that you cant bear. To friends who nourish and guide.
This is what I eat when I feel like I need an escape.
It's meant to be a beef stew, but my beef has abandoned me, at least in spirit. Could do well with some irish beef casserole cuts or sub tofu for vegetarian option. Pardon me playing with my food, didnt I forewarned you about my Culinary Age? Five, yeah good you remember. Till then :)