Warning: This Is Non Halal, Not Kosher and Definitely Not Vegetarian

As the remaining daylight fades away, I gaze at the rain falling, listen to the wind blowing.  I try to remember when the last time I took a day off was but cannot.  I check my payslip and realise I am the only person left in my office who has a perfect zero sick day record for the calender year. 

I feel exhausted and cannot confirm whether I have a fever.  My brain is struggling to even entertain the idea of paying someone else to cook for me.  I badly need comfort food.

I open the freezer.  Chicken drumsticks, duck marylands, a jumbo quail, sardine fillets, lamb shoulder.  Then I turn to the pork section.  Pig liver, bacon, rack of pork, spare ribs, speck.  I opt for the little bag of female pork belly I had cut up into slices and marinated before freezing.  Nothing like the classic marinade recipe of sesame oil, pepper and soy sauce (plus a touch of cornstarch for those who like their meat a bit more tender) to turn mere pork slices into stir-fry gold.

Right.  Defrost meat.  Soak and slice dried shiitake mushrooms, peel and julienne a carrot, julienne three Chinese cabbage leaves.  I am tempted to finely chop a knob of ginger, garlic and onion but instead choose to finely slice the white part of a scallion stalk.  Do I need peanuts?  Meh.

Boil water in a pot.  Heat up some oil in the wok.  Brown meat in oil, set aside.  Throw white scallion bits into resulting hot pork lard and oil, then carrots.  Stir around a bit.  Water boiling, time to cook discs of dried alkaline noodles from home, my favourite pasta.  Time to add the Chinese cabbage leaves and mushrooms into wok, using the mushroom soaking liquid to make sure the vegetables will not burn.  Wait a few minutes while dreaming about Grand-dad's pig stomach & white peppercorn soup, stewed pork belly in Chinese buns, Grandmother's braised pig trotters and Chris Badenoch's crispy roast pig's head (will that man open the restaurant already?!).  Check, looks good, time to add the noodles and pork back in, toss to mix, add soy sauce and the chopped up green part of that scallion stalk, toss some more.

Serve in big white bowl with crispy fried shallots and settle into bean bag & Top Gear while the pig liver, ginger & Chinese wine soup is heating up in the microwave for afterwards.

Mmm pork...##

Baguette Musings

"Merci"

"Merci, Salute"

As the owner continued barking orders to the help in French, I glanced at the queue for waffles.  I would love a fresh waffle with honey but not while both my hands were clutching tightly onto something else.

As I walked into the underground tunnel, I sank my teeth into the roast beef, lettuce and tomato baguette with dill pickles and Dijonnaise.  The golden-brown bread was crunchy, the roast beef a touch dry, the dill pickles sour-sweet enough to temper the mustard-spice coming from the Dijonnaise.  I was reminded of the chewy pale Dench bread that Earl's Canteen offers, and that incredibly crispy roast pork rind that came with its now-famous juicy pork belly baguette with apple and fennel coleslaw.  Should the filling of a baguette be better than the bread itself?  I did wonder.

I was dropping crumbs and the odd bit of tomato everywhere as I looked into the shop windows in the underground.  Not that I was worried about losing my way around in this now-familiar underground shopping haven.  If only I can actually afford one of those fantastic pieces...

I paused to grab an Ethiopian Yirgacheffe espresso at Cup of Truth.  It seemed rather fitting, carrying a red messenger bag, holding onto a paper bag with a half-eaten French baguette in one hand while sniffing and then quickly drinking a good short black in the other.  A smile and wave to the barista, and off I went into the sunlight.  Back to the baguette. 

By the river, the crumbs had stopped falling off but there went a good slice of tomato for the birds.  As  I passed by the spot underneath the pedestrian bridge where the Ghostrider first uses his Penance Stare in the 2006 film, I thought about the few baguettes I had during my limited time in Paris.  They were basic, nothing flashy, and certainly I had to remind the staff more than one time to remember the dill pickles.  I was always bemused by their stunned looks then.  They must really think that people who do not speak French therefore do not eat dill pickles.  I wonder what they would have thought of the queue on Centre Place for the four-dollar petit baguettes filled with smoked salmon salmon red onions and capers, roast chicken lettuce and mayonnaise, ham cheese and tomato etcetera.  Of course, not for me the petit baguette. I much rather pay for a proper full baguette, the kind that tells you how freshly baked baguette is meant to taste and smell like every time you grab a bite.

Scrunching up the now-empty bag, I see the office worker crowd packing up its BBQ mess by the giant pigeon house and the waiter idling by the new crepe place on the riverbank.  I am rather full, really, so no French crepes for me either today.   Besides, work awaits.  The kind where an understanding of France, the French language or the French cuisine is not required. :) ##