DONT'T WORRY, EAT HAPPY!

Like biriani, a good claypot rice must be savoured. Unlike biriani, it does not take neurosis and a whole lot of spices, voodoo, and labourious dingbattery to prepare. So it's better. One can order it and receive it same day. A plan of action, correct timing, efficiency. As well as a satisfying early dinner. Seeing as I had not eaten yet, and it was darn tasty, I enjoyed every bite. Preserved meats claypot rice (臘味煲仔飯 'laap mei pou jai faan').
Tender yauchoi stalks on top for colour and balance.

But I enjoyed my hot milk tea more, seeing as I had seen it prepared. Decanting, soggy sock squeezing, repouring through the sock, re-squeezing, and again. The waitress was working by herself (normally there are at least three ladies there), most ably morally supported by the grandfather sitting at his corner table keeping an eye on the door, and after he left an uncle with a cell phone and no interest in the small courtesy plate of chicken a kitchen auntie had given him. A group endeavor. The waitress was a whirl of activity. Everybody got ordered and served on time, the milk tea was finally ready, and came just when I wanted it.

It was darn good milk tea. Excellent.
An intense zen-like moment.

Happiness.


The smoke afterwards carried me through the horrible cold outside, plus up and down slopes on the way home. Should dress warmer, put away the summer coat. The weather has changed. When the cold affects me, non-level streets take longer and hurt more.
A pipe dispells the surreality and keeps me grounded, so to speak.


Autumn and winter are the ideal time for preserved meats casseroles or clay pot rice.
Comforting. The supper for the ages, a taste from the past.
Perfect with sambal. Of course.



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