There was some fashion do in Colombo last evening and my wife got a free ticket. Thousands of miles and some time zones away from Paradise, I was bored staring at a computer screen that had a dimmed screen with a message that read “User Not Online.” Of course I knew she was not online, but sometimes, you just want to click the dial button for the heck of it. I think it is very manly to keep trying such things – like pressing the elevator button that is already pressed, knowing that’s already pressed by the man standing right in front of you.
Men do weird stuff like that, while women would just shut the computer and walk away to do their nails, or something much more fascinating – like yapping about Monica Bellucci’s cleavage with their besties.
So I was bored. And homesick.
I was hungry.
I was too lazy to drive-through my usual last resort in nourishment – and sustenance – the place where a clown sits in the front bench. I’m sick of the big macs, the royales and the big tasty ones. I usually buy a whole meal, pour the cola down the kitchen sink, eat the fries and forget the burger: two sachets of ketchup mixed with one sachet of mayo makes an amazing dip for the fries. By the way, I haven’t seen them serving mayo at McDonalds in paradise - have you?
Anyhow. So I was hungry. Men come from a hunting and camping background – so I followed my instincts and decided to hunt for my prey, right within the perimeter of my kitchen. Mind you my humble abode is not a mansion with a huge kitchen that houses an army – its just a single bedroom joint where kitchen accommodates just one person. Not more, not less. While rummaging and foraging, I found an old can of corned beef, a quarter of a cabbage; and I knew there was some leftover rice in the fridge from the afternoon. So, I chopped-up some onions, garlic, and the cabbage that had been living in my fridge for a while. One more week and I would have had to adopt the cabbage or christen it with a suitable name.
Moments later, the lights were turned off, some candles were lit and yours truly was cooking a romantic meal for one, to the tune of Nina Simone and her Tomato Collection.
It was rather a quick one, but was much better than the pizzas, burgers and the localized Indian food available around the corner. I couldn’t say otherwise, for obvious reasons.
Enjoyed my meal all alone, while watching some silly movie that I didn’t even pay much attention to. It would have been fantastic if I had a bottle of wine and some female company, but sometimes, life doesn’t let you enjoy the luxuries every single day of your life.
So this morning, while chatting to my charming wife, I shared my culinary adventure with her.
“What kind of a meal was that..?” was her prompt response, followed by a hearty laugh, and I am still wondering what’s wrong with eating corned beef and cabbage à la Sri Lankan style, with some rice.
I am not at all disheartened by the reaction from the Minister of Domestic Affairs, I’m going to sell the recipe to Harpo’s or Barefoot as some fusion food – all I need is a fancy name that sells itself. :)