Food memories

Growing up in a food loving Peranakan family, I have always been just a little bit food obsessed. My yearly family calendar is dotted with events surrounding food, such as Chinese New Year, the yearly National Day lunch that mummy single handedly accomplishes with lots of compliments and admiration from those invited, and the Christmas and New Year feast at my cousin's place. My earliest memories are images of my mother and grandmother chopping up vegetables and frying all the colours of the rainbow in a hot wok, the sounds of mummy's trusty kenwood fluffing up egg whites for her signature chiffon cake, and delicious food smells (particularly the fragrance of frying rempah or sambal belachan) wafting out from the kitchen.

When I was younger, more idealistic and fiercely feminist, I took the side of the bra burning feminists (not literally) and rejected the traditional female role as the nurturer and home maker. Hence, I never did take hold of the opportunity to learn first hand from the masters of the kitchen, a decision I regret today. My interest in cooking to preserve cultures,excite the senses and nourish the body only developed later in life when I started working. Being in a mindless 9 to 5 environment with a daily nightmarish journey on the public transport that was operating at a 100 times over its capacity (in my dramatised mind) made me seek out alternative hobbies to make life less dreary. So I began baking, experimenting with bread because I fell in love with the hard European types when I was in the continent during a semester exchange programme.

After packing my bags for a move to yet another continent for further studies and a career switch, I found myself longing for more time in the kitchen, recreating familiar recipes. I guess my homesickness manifested in the longing for food that was more readily available back home. While I am thankful to be in a place where  farmers markets are aplenty and people are as conscious about sustainable farming and cooking according to the seasonal produce available, I still hanker for the colourful and bustling streets of South East Asia where food is available at every corner and at any time of the day. Cannot wait to be home next week, even if it is only a short trip! 

Shirred eggs on a beautiful Sunday morning

*Today, I will be interrupting my consecutive posts on my family trip to Europe with a post on food.*

Breakfast is a happy occasion for me because my stomach really looks forward to it after the night's fast. 

Mummy recently told me a story involving my tiny toddler self and a sugar plum. Apparently I was happily (and violently) sucking on it and she had wanted to remove it to peel off more skin and prevent me from swollowing the entire fruit, and I screamed in protest. Guess my deadly sin is really gluttony. 

Stories aside, I put together a quick and easy breakfast of shirred eggs on this beautiful Sunday morning and thought of sharing it (anything involving ramekins and oven baked eggs make me salivate). 

First, chop up two tomatoes and an onion into cubes while heating up a mix of olive oil and butter on the stove. Then cook the chopped veggies till soft. Add chopped basil, salt and pepper to taste. 

Next, oil the ramekins and pour the cooked items, filling about 1/3 of the pots. Crack a egg into each ramekin and pour a little more of the cooked mixture in. 

Shove ramekins into oven till eggs are done (about 15 minutes). 

Eat with toasted bread. Yum tums.