Great chefs never cook

We humans are strange creatures. Lesser mammals don't care about the day of the week and go by the same routines every day. These routines usually involve great sex, lots of food and aimlessly relaxing in the sun, while pondering about when to start the next cycle of lots of sex and great food.

When I first came to Singapore I thought the locals had their act together: all great food places have a red light district attached. You will never read about these incredible places on the official Singapore tourism site: sipping their Kopi-O, Singaporeans would complain that popularity with foreigners would result in overcrowded places and would spoil it for the locals. Pretty weird since, like many other places in Singapore, the hard work in the red light districts is done by foreigners, since Singaporeans do not want to do the same job.

As usual things were also not so great as they appeared at first. Singaporean males tend to work long hours (just to be away from the wife) and their only moment of the week to enjoy life, the universe and the great nothingness is on sunday morning. That is the time when the wife takes the kids to the grandparents and goes to Orchard Road on a shopping spree. That happy state usually only lasts a few seconds until the hubby rolls over and detects the note with the long list of tasks the wife expects to be finished by the time she returns home.

Now I am just like any other regular guy and hope to blend in as much as possible. I really, really tried hard not to awake this sunday morning. My sub-consciousness had free roam during this semi-vegetative state. You certainly remember having these blissful feelings before someone tricked you in marriage.

I was not even wondering how I made it home last night, that concern was still at least three levels of consciousness away. In these treacherous abysses of my mind I found myself cooking naked for a large group of local Singaporean uncles and aunties. For some reason or another they were shouting insults in Mandarin at me. I found this weird since none of the real locals speak Mandarin nor do I understand it.

I got nearer to the state of being awake but was drawn deeper again by the calming voice of Gordon Ramsay explaining that he was "teached by the best and in return teached some of the best".

Being naked as chef apparently pushed the wrong buttons but just as everyone else I certainly think of myself as being the best. Gordon Ramsey making time for me seemed completely normal in the wicked universe that is my mind. More dark matter is to be found there than anywhere else in the rest of the universe. My sub-conscience spinned and sucked in every detail from Gordon Ramsay's Ultimate Cookery Course.

Hours later I was awake again and started wondering about how I got home last evening. The best way to get rid of these potential harmful thoughts is to completely ignore them and pretend yesterday did not happen. My Vodka stock was running low and I decided to go out and buy some of the essential stuff.

One hour later I found myself staring at the following spices and vegetables (please refer to the picture on top):

  • celery
  • coriander powder
  • cumin seeds
  • chilli powder
  • chillies (chilli paddies, big red chillies and dried chillies)
  • fennel seeds
  • ginger
  • lime
  • onions (large ones, peeled red ones, spring onions and green onions)
  • parsley
  • red peppers
  • sesame seeds
  • turmeric powder

Curse you, Gordon Ramsey! Every episode you are blabbing about the fact that you use only ingredients that are common to every kitchen. I was unwillingly brain-washed and my poor body went on automatic pilot and bought all these "common" ingredients that are missing from every sane man's kitchen!

Let me explain what other ingredients were available in my fridge:

  • ten eggs
  • one bottle of Vodka (nearly empty)
  • three bottles of Hoegaerden
  • one bottle of Belgian pickles (don't ask)
  • two bottles of cough syrop (I repeat, don't ask)
  • some stuff that would have made me win the Nobel prize when it became alive if I left it any longer in my fridge.

Here are the internals of my fridge:

None of your hundred "life-saving" recipes can be made with the stuff in my fridge combined with the ingredients I bought!

I suppose I can now cook the one omelet to rule all other omelets, but I could have made a pretty decent one with the ingredients that I already had in my fridge (no Eddy, I will not give you that recipe, it has been a family secret for many centuries).

Maybe, just maybe, by randomly tossing together all ingredients in a pan (my usual method of cooking) I can invent the one and only cure against a hangover of one too many Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters.

Wel, off to the Witbier cafe I suppose. I need to do some urgent fieldwork and find out how I got home yesterday.

Herman Stevens

Just some guy on the internet. Loves technology, diving, travelling, photography and Belgian Trappist beers.