I just finished baking a cake with Mum. you see, my mother's very much a perfectionist, and she has her own specific ways of doing every single thing. but she still lets me help out when she's baking, and so far all these years she's never once discouraged me, even though I'm a klutz and the food never really turns out looking like those from the cookbook.
don't ask me why, but I swear I'm only clumsy when it comes to cooking.
Mum: okay fold the batter for me
me: (in the most pained look I could muster) Ma I can't do it. I don't think I'm good at folding
Mum: alah you. see how I do it
and she does it so professionally, moving her hands all about. in fact, I think if she were to close her eyes she'd be able to fold just as well. she'd look silly, but she'd still be good.
baking tonight reminds me of one pathetic incident that happened a few weeks ago. I was with Toots and Nuu and we were on our way to Toots' house. I excitedly told them I'd successfully made scrambled eggs that day all by myself, and then my friends laughed. I forgot about it for awhile. we reached the place, and then Toots served us lunch- beef ball noodles if I'm not wrong.
Toots: eh you all must eat k I cooked it you know
WAHLAU. I was just staring at my friend, thinking she must've been phenomenal to make something as complicated as beef ball noodles lah! seriously I think I had that oh-what-gives look on my face. we definitely have different talents. still not sure what mine is, but it's obviously not cooking. Betty Crocker and Martin Yan I am not, sigh.
by the way that chinese man is such a big liar. if Yan can cook, so can you my ass.
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