I finally get it. Shite.

2011 came and went like the wind. It was the start of a new chapter for me – finishing up university, taking a first step out into the vast world as a young adult. It didn’t quite pan out the way I had initially planned it, and even when making the necessary adjustments, it didn’t even turn out the way I really hoped it to be. Felt, really, like I did a whole year of nothing.

Which is not entirely true.

As they say, the higher you set your expectations, the more disappointed you would be. Or at least, the higher the chance you would fail to appreciate the little things. In retrospect, I travelled, and I learnt a lot, even from my periods of doing-nothingness. A lot might have changed for me, but at least not when it comes to my belly – except those extra inches.

Besides my fairly epic trail through Korea in April by way of my belly (yes, and friends and sights, but my belly wins all – always), stuffing my face in Kuala Lumpur, Hong Kong, and Melbourne, I also stepped into a kitchen for the first time. Yes, a working kitchen. Yes, I was paid. No, there were no chef whites, there was no trace of fine dining in that establishment whatsoever, but it was valuable experience, and for someone who came in with skills of zilch, I learnt a lot of what it meant to work in the industry. While I chose to continue to walk down the path I have been treading on the past 6 years, I still look on at chef whites wistfully, and even watching people prep boxes of vegetables at the back of Quay’s kitchen, I was envious.

So when a chance came by, of course I took it.

A wedding in the country, followed by a big birthday celebration at a private residence (which, interestingly, was better equipped as an event venue’s kitchen than the wedding venue!), it was four days of crazy cooking madness. I was there as the replacement apprentice, so I did mostly just the prep work, but it was a great experience. I took away a memorable experience (Sitting down for a proper meal after 4 days of standing never felt quite so surreal), and a few lessons. I was gobsmacking shattered by the end of it, and it took me 2 days of bedtime to feel somewhat normal again, but if you asked me…

I would gladly do it all over again.

Wrapping up the year having this experience, taking away with me this photo (Well, the only one I would put up here), and most importantly, REMEMBERING to appreciate it as something valuable of 2011, makes the year feel less hollow. A reminder that while a lot of things don’t go your way, little things can come up to surprise you, and be a wonderful experience, moulding you  and pushing you towards your next step, or simply reminding you of where you are headed. It was a year of confusion, worry, stress fear, disappointment, surprise, and still, joys. I was blessed with much, even when I did not accomplish as much as I wanted. Could this be the typical coming-of-age scenario for a mid-twenty-something? Perhaps. Either ways, I’m taking what I can with me, positively – Or, at least, if you were to challenge me on that, they’re positive perspectives on my own terms.

So here’s to the coming year: While I don’t know if I may be in chef whites again, what other whites I may be in, may the year be once again filled with learning… And may it always be tasty.

2012 – BRING IT ON.

L-R: Kimchi packed in tight; Even my monster constainer was not big enough for this year's kimjang!

As I slice up my last bunch of kimchi and cleaned out my huge kimchi container, I felt conflicted.

(I just realised I have associated a feeling with slicing up kimchi. The immediate double-take and spontaneous ‘WHAT THE -bleep-?!?!’ follows.) [PG13]

The aforementioned conflict of emotions simply only referred to my excitement at finishing up my huge container of kimchi from this past pre-winter’s kimjang 김장 (When Korean households or entire families get together to make copious amounts of kimchi just before the cold of the winter to last them through the winter or even a whole year.) so that I can move on to making other types of kimchi which are characteristic to other seasons, but yet that means I won’t be having the standard kimchi for a little while. The standard kimchi which we all know by now is the one served at every Korean restaurant, the Chinese cabbage kimchi, also known as baechu kimchi 배추 김치, or even kimjang kimchi. Not so much that it is a favourite with people, it’s just the most, well, standard. You think kimchi, and squarish flat pieces of Chinese cabbage covered in wet red paste comes to mind, no?

Kimchi, really, has an interesting history. So interesting that I actually spent a free afternoon at the Korean Cultural Office‘s library reading about it. But here’s my attempt to summarise it: Pickling vegetables was the Koreans’ way to have their vegetable intake through the winter, when no fresh vegetables would grow. There were several types as there are today back in the early periods, made using different methods, but the red chilli powder was only introduced into Korean during the Joseon period, and since then has been used like crazy ever since. How it came to be Chinese cabbage kimchi as the standard kimchi we all know of, I still don’t know. Hm. Not a very useful book after all… But at least from the early days, the kimjang tradition prevailed.

L-R: Before; After. All of that shrunk till I could fit it all in just one basin!

I remember the first time I tried to make my kimjang kimchi. So fed up was I, paying $6 for 500g of kimchi that I would go through in a week (don’t judge me), that I decided to make it on my own. Not the mat kimchi 맛김치 (already chopped kimchi) way, but the traditional way of coating every leaf of your salted cabbages with your kimchi paste, then wrapping and packing. I started with one cabbage, and really had no clue which recipe to follow, so went with a combination of all that I have read (old habit). Thankfully it worked out well, tasted good according to my Korean friends, and we tucked into bossam 보쌈 (boiled belly pork) like the carnivores we are. And 2 years later, I am still doing the same, just about 6 times the original amount. I’ve done the whole kimjang thing even back in Singapore, where the weather was very inappropriate to the basis of kimjang, but it’s just becoming something I look forward to every time winter starts to come around in Sydney. It’s a full day of work, which leaves you utterly exhausted, but it’s.. fun. And because now I make enough to share with friends, and invite friends over to have kilos of bossam together, it becomes something fun to gather for, especially for my Korean friends who are away from home.

Bossam - Boiled pork belly

Of course, it earns you names like, ohm-ma 엄마 (mommy), or, -sigh-, ahjumma  아줌마, which means auntie. SO, if you’re female and want to make kimchi the traditional kimjang way, and especially when you’re not Korean, you might end up being called a Korean auntie. And this is where I sigh in defeatedness.

So now that my large kimchi container has been cleaned out and drying, it’s time to fill up that new-found fridge space with other types of kimchi!!! Oh, the Sister will not be happy to hear this…

P.S. See, if I had a dedicated kimchi refrigerator, I would never have to worry about not having my standard kimjang kimchi all year round because I can control the fermentation, I can have a greater variety at the dining table, AND it would not stink up the fridge…! Hm why do I feel like I’m hinting into a black hole…

This is what I call soft, fluffy, buttery heaven. With the aroma of coffee, of course.

It is none other than the ‘famous’ PappaRoti!! I shall explain the apostrophes: To me, it is famous. Why? Because its origins in Malaysia! And after not having it for years since it disappeared mysteriously from the other place I am from, lo and behold, I find it in – of all places –  Korea!! And it’s just one of those places that leads you by smell before you even see it. That strong, almost heady wafts of coffee and butter, makes your head spin and your mouth water.. And after following the scent like a hunting dog on a mission, I arrived in front of a PappaRoti store!! I believe it was one of those times I was proud to be Malaysian, despite having spent most of my years in Singapore. I didn’t actually take a picture while I was too busy stuffing my face in Korea (a tale for another time, children..), but PappaRoti seems to make its appearance mostly in the basement food areas in big shopping malls such as Lotte or Shinsegae (I lost track again which, exactly, terribly sorry with my absent-mindedness, but I WAS incredibly hungry each time, so all other thoughts get abandoned…). I did find a lot of Rotiboy shops though, perhaps the direct rival of PappaRoti in what they do, and I remember getting myself lost almost every morning for 5 days in a row at Myeongdong just so I could get my fix of that fluffy coffee buttery goodness..

Disclaimer: I do not know which came first (edit: RB 1998, PR 2003), what the real differences are, maybe perhaps the variety (RB wins) or size (PR wins), or they’re really just the same company..?! I could still be very wrong, so don’t take my word for it. I love both. I love coffee and butter. I love peace on earth. And I digress..

So anyway. Thrilled how the Singaporean/Malaysian stores are taking off in Korea (Ya Kun, Kopitiam, PappaRoti, Rotiboy), I was jumping for joy (quite literally) when I stumbled upon the PappaRoti store in Cabramatta. The Sister, Mother, and I, polished off 2, and it didn’t take long.

Oh, that sweet coffee aroma that infiltrates your nasal orifices, wafting up and triggering the brain to simply melt and succumb, and you ask for one, and hand over those round mini-hubcabs called coins. Then you hold it with trembling fingers, the warmth from that dome-shaped bun – fresh from the oven – radiating onto your face as you bring it closer to your  opening jaws.. Clamping down in one big bite, a satisfying, slight-crunch from the crisp coating of the bun, and the give of that fluffy soft bread, as that sweet coffee aroma explodes once again, combined with that luscious, undeniable smell of BUTTER…

I had a moment there. It was pretty damn awesome, really.

If you were at the Malaysia Festival held at Tumbalong Park just a couple of weekends ago, you would have been able to snag a few to taste for yourself its delights. I would have bought a truckload to stock up, but even heating it up with the oven or microwave the next day, it doesn’t really taste the same. I tried it the last time I bought a few from Kogarah, and maybe I wasn’t doing it right, but still think having it fresh out of the oven, as you receive it in the store, the best way to go. You can head out to the current outlets in Kogarah, Cabramatta, and Kingsford, if you’re in metropolitan Sydney. Insider’s info, though – There’s soon to be one coming near city folk in Central! -grin-

—

See PappaRoti’s current locations in Australia

Back to that chef. We ended up chatting a little about food, and besides the fact that I could communicate with him partially in Korean, he expressed how fascinating it was to see someone like me, who’s not in the food industry, to be so passionate about food. Of course, he had an interest in food, but he maintains that he entered the food industry for the main purpose of the career, and it was only then he learnt more and his passion grew. Hence, he just cannot believe how someone who could babble on, so very excitedly, about food, would not be involved with food day-to-day as an occupation as well. Perhaps he hasn’t met many food bloggers, or other people who love food avidly, be it dining or cooking at home. I am definitely not the only one. But his words did strike a chord with me.

It was something I began to hear quite often, in the last few years. “You seem to love food and cooking so much, why aren’t you in that industry?”, and other variants, from all different peoples. And perhaps it was at a time I was feeling jaded with aspects of my studies, and reassessing the career prospects of my chosen occupation, that I started ruminating about the possibilities of changing tracks. It felt dangerous even in my mind, and I was extremely cautious. But the more I thought about it, I knew I had to give it a try. I somehow managed to receive approval (Traditional Asian family, the dynamics and rules never change even when you’re greying) to give it a shot, and I did. It wasn’t entirely what I had hoped for, but it was a start, that first job in the kitchen. Being an all-day breakfast place, and open from morning till night, I remember falling straight to sleep every time I had a chance to half-sit on something. I had cuts and burns, and I still liked being in the kitchen, there was a touch of familiarity and excitement. I even got excited when the boxes of mushrooms came in for us to prep! But during that time, I also came into contact with some old friends who were working in an area associated with healthcare. I was reminded of why I chose healthcare in the first place, I was reminded of the demands of being a chef and the sacrifices it called for, and I learnt more about the food industry. When it was time to head back to Sydney, I finally decided that there were things I needed and wanted to do still, away from the food industry.

It wasn’t easy, especially when I know it gives me great joy, and to be reminded, by many who see that. I, too, aspire to be a great chef, on par with my favourites, as impossible as that sounds, but there are so many other things I feel like I need to do, want to do, that I can’t possibly be everything at the same time. But I’m not giving up on doing something with food entirely. I guess that’s the whole purpose of this. An outlet, I suppose. It’s not the same as getting into the kitchen and working with my hands, with food, but I guess that’s the great thing about food. There’s always a way to enjoy food, through eating it, cooking it, photographing it, or plainly talking or writing about it. The sad thing is my ever-expanding waistline…!

I will never forget something he said. ”If someone like you, was in a position like me, right now, I wonder what it would be like..” (in Korean) I wonder that, too. And that’s all for now, I can only simply wonder..