Contrary to my own belief, I am not that homesick. I was, to be honest, in the first few months, but nowadays, things are alright, much to my own surprise. I am no longer dreaming of home and family members dying. And I don't think of my mama's cooking that much now. Not because I've found someone who can cook better, no one would, but just that, I know I'll be fine until I'm home again.
And speaking about cooking, I know for a fact that I can't cook. More often than not, I detest my own cooking. That is as honest I can get. Although I pretended to enjoy cooking and tried several things, let's face it, I can never get the taste right, whatever it is. My spaghetti tastes half as it should be, my kuay teow was reduced to white shredded trails, and my nasi goreng doesn't live up to anyone's expectation (if there's any at all). The only reason I (sometimes) cook is that I don't have better things to do, at that moment in time. And yes, cooking works as a stress-reliever too. And though everyone does spill out the obligatory compliments when they eat and finish up whatever it is that I cook, I know that they'd prefer I didn't, in the first place. Or maybe, I just don't like what I cook, as simple as that. But when it comes to someone else's, my appetite skyrockets like there's no tomorrow. Especially if it's mama's or adik's. Oh wait, but I do have some exceptions as well, though. I like my own pudding and teh o, if you ask to name a few. And that's basically it.
Do you love cooking? I'd love to taste it some time.
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