Photo by bookjunkie
A song was playing in my head and I was reminded of a familiar list. 1. Raindrops on roses – I dream of pink ones. 2. Whiskers on kittens – I’m not a cat person but who can resist kittens. 3. Bright Copper Kettles. That would appeal to me and look perfect in a modern kitchen. Here’s where the list looses me a little. Warm Woolen Mittens? I am already melting in Singapore. Just the thought makes me feel hot. Brown Paper Packages Tied up in String? Did they have to stinge on pretty wrapping paper? I know. I am being a total pain. Although to my credit, at five, I longed for Julie Andrews to dance with me in my bedroom, make me curtain dresses and teach me Do Re Mi.
I have heard the song a countless number of time but never thought deeply about my actual favourite things. Perhaps I can come up with a more Asian equatorial version where girls wear T-shirts and not white dresses with blue satin sashes and we don’t have silver white winters that melt into spring.
My favourite things, Asian, would include a heavy downpour in the middle of the day, when you’re snuggly safe and dry at home. First you look out the window to see that the sky has become a beautiful grey with smoky clouds about to burst. Next a sudden patter will soon becomes a splashing of rain. The rain bounces off the concrete and beats into puddles on the grass. The rain mercifully transforms a harsh hot day into a cool forgiving one. It’s the best time to take a nap as you hear the patter of the rain and the soft rumbling of thunder. Even an insomniac will be lulled to sleep. Lighting and thunder, not so scary. An almost weekly occurrence at the equator and welcomed when it announces the rain. Another favourite thing is the sweet scent of the air after the rain with the cool air lingering.
What would be great on a rainy day? A hot bowl of soup of course. I have a preference for a bowl of Ramen with chicken broth. The noodles firm in texture with a chewy handmade quality. A egg boiled to perfection then cooled at just the right temperature while it is seeped in tea. When sliced it reveals the delectably sticky orange yolk with is just the perfect side of runny. I think it’s best to eat with wooden chopsticks. It seems almost profane to stab at lovingly prepared noodles with a fork, let alone its metal taste. Chopsticks lend an elegance to the meal with the delicate lifting of strands of noodles to your mouth.
