it's paradoxically simultaneously therapeutic and exciting, and I think it's amazing to be able to create a dish with your own two hands, from scratch- seeing it from start to finish.
my dad was the one that got me into cooking. I wasn't really into it at first, but there's something about making a dish for someone to nourish their body and soul that feels so good. and it's so unregretfully infectious.
The Life & Times of
My Dad
Giving credit to where it's due-
to my first cooking teacher. whenever I'd come back home from school, I knew that I'd have oxtail soup or beef rendang waiting on the stove for me. New Orleans had damn good food, but home-cooked Indonesian food just can't be beat.
he never used measurements- always eyeballed everything, and his nasi goreng would always taste a little different every time.
no, you won't be getting any of his recipes here, or ever- they only live rent-free in my head (I'm not a sellout).
