Food For Thought
I missed Jaya, Jen and Carrie when we went out to yum cha at Regal today. Sorely. It was the first time we'd gone out for dim sum since Jaya's farewell dim sum lunch at Eastern Sunrise earlier in June.
It was like those song lyrics about the ghost of someone you miss haunting certain places around town; so that wherever you go, wherever you turn, you'd see them, or the two of you together, and then be blinded by the visions of those happy times you had, which are now all only fragmented memories - some of which you aren't even sure are real or imagined.
So I sat in the restaurant remembering the tables our group had sat at in the past, and every time a waitress waltzed to our table with her tray of dim sum, I'd remember who loved what, who would insist on having what, and who didn't care for what.
As the three of us ate, Aileen and I talked a lot about our past yum cha sessions, filling Diana in on the us girls' yum cha sessions in the past year she'd been away. We remembered the quirks and virtues of the waitresses at the two restaurants we frequented, how we often needed strong-arm tactics to keep Jen away from her beloved chilli oil (she never could resist it; she'd be complaining about her pimples and asking for more chilli oil in the same breath), how Jen would always want century-egg congee, how Jaya loved her spring-rolls (and could list the merits of spring-rolls from various restaurants around town), and how we'd never ever let Carrie be within reaching distance of a teapot (because she was a magic sponge that could never be fully saturated when it came to liquids).
It seems that a lot of my memories of the girls were centered around food - prolly because nearly every time we got together, it was because of food: pot-lucks, birthday celebrations, somebody trying out a new recipe, etc.
I mused aloud about how funny it was that so many types of food remind me of Jaya, and Aileen, who'd almost been conjoined to Jaya, wryly commented, "Every time I eat, I think of Jaya."
It could've been worse, I suppose.
For me, eating is comforting. I may miss them every time I see a certain dish, but at least I'll be comforted with every bite and mouthful, and I'll remember ...
So, really - it could've been worse.
It was like those song lyrics about the ghost of someone you miss haunting certain places around town; so that wherever you go, wherever you turn, you'd see them, or the two of you together, and then be blinded by the visions of those happy times you had, which are now all only fragmented memories - some of which you aren't even sure are real or imagined.
So I sat in the restaurant remembering the tables our group had sat at in the past, and every time a waitress waltzed to our table with her tray of dim sum, I'd remember who loved what, who would insist on having what, and who didn't care for what.
As the three of us ate, Aileen and I talked a lot about our past yum cha sessions, filling Diana in on the us girls' yum cha sessions in the past year she'd been away. We remembered the quirks and virtues of the waitresses at the two restaurants we frequented, how we often needed strong-arm tactics to keep Jen away from her beloved chilli oil (she never could resist it; she'd be complaining about her pimples and asking for more chilli oil in the same breath), how Jen would always want century-egg congee, how Jaya loved her spring-rolls (and could list the merits of spring-rolls from various restaurants around town), and how we'd never ever let Carrie be within reaching distance of a teapot (because she was a magic sponge that could never be fully saturated when it came to liquids).
It seems that a lot of my memories of the girls were centered around food - prolly because nearly every time we got together, it was because of food: pot-lucks, birthday celebrations, somebody trying out a new recipe, etc.
I mused aloud about how funny it was that so many types of food remind me of Jaya, and Aileen, who'd almost been conjoined to Jaya, wryly commented, "Every time I eat, I think of Jaya."
It could've been worse, I suppose.
For me, eating is comforting. I may miss them every time I see a certain dish, but at least I'll be comforted with every bite and mouthful, and I'll remember ...
So, really - it could've been worse.
posted by s at 22:42
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home