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2010-07-19
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We learn a lot from reading. Recently I've learned a phrase I have yet to know how to use -- "xxxxx called to me as I picked it up". "xxxxx" being some kind of food, and it hit me. The food itself doesn't speak any languages, but somehow it managed to 'called' to our attention. That's what writers do, they play with their language and makes it fun to read. Sometimes people like it, sometimes they don't. It's not a matter of humour, it's just the matter of how you take it. Only until a few weeks
This location in Happy Valley has always been a popular dining spot. It has everything, and yet by convenience I must stop by for Cheong Kee's specialties one afternoon. (I was in HV for work, and here I was, 30 minutes to kill) The MILK TEA (HOT) and a signature THICK TOAST (Butter and Sugar) can be simplest combination to make it big. The milk tea arrived in a rush. The staff had three milk teas in his hand, all boiling hot. The rimless glass trembled slightly as he edged across the floor. One of them landed in front of me, not spilling one drop. Bearing the promising smell of a hot brew, the milk tea was smooth, as I found 1 spoonful of granulated did the trick to offer enough sweetness to the tea itself. It slid down smoothly and easily.
The sight of the THICK TOAST stunned me into silence -- a white hunk of bread toasted on both sides, with the glamorous golden coat of butter victoriously slid across the lightly toasted surface. Upon the buttered layer was a thin blizzard of sparkling sugar sprinkled from edge to edge -- I felt as if the toast was speaking to me, calling my name in the simplest invitation -- "Bite Me!" It said. I looked at it for a second, followed by a comment from one of the staff -- "Eat, what are you waiting for, it's gonna get cold soon" before I could locate the source the person disappeared into the crowd yet again. I took out a quartered piece of thick toast and let my teeth sunk into it. They met the sugar-encrusted surface with resistance. Going deeper, the simple sweetness and the buttery richness is met by the pillowy softness of a perfect piece of white bread. And then, another bite, and another. It needed no welcome invitation from anyone to bite into a piece of toast. It came so naturally, as the sight of something so scrumptiously good proved to be too much of an indulgence not to consume it in due time. For all those times I convinced myself I could never finish that piece of toast, I proved myself wrong to engulf the piece within 5 minutes. For 5 whole minutes I allowed myself to realize that I could do just that, indulging into the simple pleasures that places like Cheong Kee can offer. And for 5 minutes, all my worries went away, diminishing into the thin air and into my stomach.
I paid the bill with residue butter and sugar in my hand, feeling slightly queasy with it, I wiped my mouth one last time, brushing off the stray sugar granules from my clothes and my bag. I walked out of the market feeling the unusually sunny afternoon, feeling every drop of golden sun landing onto my shoulders, shining my journey ahead.
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