It's not like I'm a terrible cook...

I cooked dinner for the three Malaysian boys (who used to live) in the same hostel last Friday. A farewell dinner of some sort since they moved out on the following day. All three of them – Faizly a.k.a. Sabah, Hafiz a.k.a. Apid and Fahmi – moved to Saginuma, closer to their university, Tokodai. Nothing much really – five-spice chicken, chicken (bone) soup with potato and carrot and sweet & sour bull’s-eyes fried eggs.



I must confess that I was a bit worried about my cooking when it comes to serving those who are good cooks themselves or those who are used to good cook’s cooking. Sabah, being the son of a caterer is good in cooking while Apid is not too bad. I have never tasted his cooking, but I’ve heard that he comes from a family of good cook – his mom, aunts, granny… So, yes, while I really wanted to “raikan” the boys one last time before they said adieu to the hostel, I was a bit worried that they might find my cooking not that good. Fortunately, all three of them seemed to enjoy their food that night…

It’s not like I am a terrible cook. I can cook. But cooking is not something that I do for fun. I do it because I have to. Anis, the girl who used to live in the same dorm with me back in Leeds can testify how I preferred not to cook. I used to buy most of the food for both of us, and she used to cook them most of the time (if not all the time). Prior to living with Anis, I often survived more on fruits and bars of Twix or Kit-kat than on food I cooked. Even when I cooked – it would normally be either spaghetti (with ready-made sauce), rice (cooked using automatic rice cooker) and tomyam soup (just throw everything in a pot of boiling water plus the tomyam paste).

I seldom cooked at home, because most of the time either Mak or the helper would be cooking, so I just helped out with the preparation. But of course, I’ve learned to make some favourite dishes when I was in UK out of necessity, since there were no ‘ma-ple’ stalls selling laksa, nasi ayam, nasi lemak or mee bandung. And yes, I also improved my pudding-making skills when I was in UK. Hey, I even baked my own cake when I was there – but has never baked anything since 1998.

Even after I got married, I haven’t really been doing any real cooking except for a few occasions. Partly because I’ve been staying at either my parents’ house, my parents-in-law’s house or my uncle’s place. Partly because the mere smell of fried oil could sent me running to the toilet (to vomit) when I was pregnant. So, I’ve only recently started cooking again after my arrival in Tokyo.

Like I said earlier – I’m not a terrible cook. Judging from the (seemingly) honest praises I’d received for some dishes I’d made here in Tokyo, I suspect that I might have inherited some good ‘air tangan’ when it comes to cooking. My paternal grandma, Tok, used to be an excellent cook until about a decade ago when she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease.

But of course, I have a long way to go before becoming an accomplished cook. I’m more like a person who can toss everything into the pot and comes up with something tasteful (though not quite conventional dish).

Still I intend to be a good cook – even if not to the standard of my mother-in-law (a full time housewife who keeps her own hand-written cookbooks since the 60s or 70s) – at least someone who can perfect the skills of making hubby’s favorite dishes. Not that he has ever complained about my cooking (bless him for being sooooo accepting of my shortcomings), but Mak’s advice about winning a man’s heart through his stomach resounds at the back of my mind a bit loudly from time to time.

So, when I go back, I need to learn from my mother in-law and experiment with daging dendeng ala Rasah, masak lemak cili api ala Rembau, rendang maman… And yes, trying out recipes from here could never substitute a class with the real guru – hubby's mother…