I made a sandwich because I really wanted to eat Doritos.
Roasted chicken, turkey, havarti, red onion, sliced tomatos, romaine hearts, honey mustard, olive oil. On a toasted multi grain cibatta.
Sandwiches must be one of the first things I learned how to make as a kid. No knife or sharp objects needed. Void of the stove or any other dangerous appliances. Bread and whatever you want in the middle — pb&j, cream cheese, pb&honey, pb&banana or the assortment of meat. You know, kid flavours that didn’t involve the can opener. We used a butter spreader, rounded and kid safe, too.
The second thing I learned was how to make egg products. Fried egg, scrambled egg, fried rice with egg, omelets (this masters with age). All of the above requires meticulous timing and knowing when to use low heat or blasting it for a crisp exterior a la broiler effect.
After I overcame the big blue fire from the gas stove, I remember accidentally slicing my finger. I was frightened. Traumatized.
Now when I cook, my mind is fully present. I’m there and only there, occasionally with some other thoughts. Life things.
& my collection of thoughts. So for today:
希望真實的我， 任性的我，努力的我，會遇到 － 我的伯樂
Sorry, Google translate ain’t got your back. Lost in translation and it feels so good. Bon appetit and itadkimasu.