Aussie cooking

When my brother called me recently, one of the first things he asked was: “So what are you all eating?” A most valid question. Considering that instant noodles are my forte. (I did cook instant noodles for our first meal here, in Sydney) 

KK has been doing all the cooking. The one time I tried to cook here – a fried noodle dish – I cut up all the ingredients beautifully, set them in their plates and then stared. I had to think about whether to throw in bacon or the carrots first. In the end, I waited for him to put ladle to the pan. 

I’m ashamed to say, he is a much better, or rather, a much more comfortable cook than I am. He’s not a great cook, no Iron Chef here. But he manages to make do with whatever is available and concoct edible and basic stuff. Here he’s doing up chicken soup.

I’m once again most ashamed to say, soup was a mystery to me. I had no idea what or how to make soup. Night after night, thanks to my parents and the maid, scrumptious Cantonese soups (the kind with herbs and wolfberries) have been presented to me since I was born but I have never tried making soup myself. Never. 

I wanted to practise before I left but there was so much to do and this was the last thing on my mind. When KK produced this soup, for dinner on a freezing cold day, it was exactly what we needed. 

And KK has very kindly told me, that cooking is not something that has to be taught. It’s, in many ways, common sense and creativity. If I can eat, I can cook. For the benefit of the concerned family members, we have been eating lots of chicken, as we have been told Australian pork tastes weird, beef is not something we eat and fish is a bit too challenging at the moment. More food pictures.

Fried chicken with steamed broccoli and mushroom and potato

Fried chicken wings with pak choy and rice Day has been eating reasonably well. Another plus is he has no nonsense to feast on. His diet is completely under my control. No haw flakes, no preserved fruits, no sweets. There is nothing in the kitchen for him to be happy about. 

And oh, at first, he found it puzzling that we had to cook, since food appeared miraculously on the table back home. But now he knows, he likes watching his papa cook and everytime food is served, he says “Thank you papa for cooking.”