I don’t even recall how it began or why this happened.
At an izakaya we talked about relationships, career, astrology, his buddy and my bestie, but it was him who talked mostly, and I listened most of time, sharing my two cents and experience when the moment was right. And, he was an acquaintance who I just met. We shared an evening and some overpriced small plates.
She shared her childhood over banh mi and coffee which was overly bitter – constant moving home, loneliness, sense of abandonment, a need of validation, struggle as an artist. We continued the discussion on alternative healing, energy, astrology, overrated cafés and rental in Hong Kong over canelés and madeleines. It was the first time we actually sat down and talked face to face, so I recalled. A few mores of such have followed since.
Somehow my introverted quality and notorious unfriendly face I was born with has been inviting people I know, do not know so well, and even newly met to open up. Maybe it is easier to talk to a stranger who does not cross paths in real life? I am a good listener, that I know. Yet it is still amusing to me that people would come to me to talk, and food always plays a substantial role in it every time.
We explored cafés and bistros, old and new, but dining at my place is not uncommon either. I tried to cook whatever dishes they desire, or they let it be my call, like omakase. In daytime, we usually had my homemade sourdough toast blanketed with buttery scrambled eggs. Rustic, unadorned sponge cake with vanilla Chantilly, plus a cup of good French tea could never go wrong. It could also be a full course of homey Cantonese dinner with a meat dish, vegetable dish, steamed fish, and rich soup simmered for an afternoon. Sometimes, it is a simple bowl of silky congee where you could not see a single grain of rice in it after hours of boiling on stove. I would cook anything them; mix and match as we please and the dishes do not necessarily have to go together as long as they enjoy the food.
Over the dinner table they would talk about anything. Resonance seemed to be the common thread that wove through these intimate conversations. As we shared our stories and thoughts, there was a palpable connection that went beyond mere words. It was as if our souls were resonating with each other, finding solace and understanding in the midst of our shared vulnerabilities in humanity.
Food became the conduit for this reverberation, stirring memories and emotions. Sharing soulful food has become a way to nourish our minds. It was a reminder that human connectedness could be found in the simplest of gestures, like sharing a meal. The izakaya, the banh mi shop, the cafes, and the dining table at my place turned into sanctuaries, where we could reveal our true selves. In those moments, it didn’t matter if we were strangers or acquaintances; what mattered was the shared experience of being seen and heard.
Through these encounters, I deeply feel that there is a profound beauty in the power of human connection. We all have stories to tell, experiences to share, and wisdom to impart. And when we come together with open hearts and minds, we create a space where empathy and understanding can flourish.
I hope, out of my wildest dream, one day I can create a space one that transcends boundaries, where people I know and those I have yet to meet can come to savour any food they desire, one person at a time. Within these walls, I would prepare the food that caters to their deepest cravings, while they open up with their stories and thoughts, and feel deeply relieved when leaving the space. In this vast and chaotic world, some people are born to be a hero saving the world; however, as someone without superpower, I hope to be an ordinary person that you feel comfortable to spend a dinner with and tell me your constellation of stories.
Ingredients: Chicken thigh meat 130g Eggplant 120g Salt koji 1 teaspoon Cornflour 1 big heap spoon Spicy Douban Sauce 1 teaspoon Cornflower slurry 1 tablespoon Oil ¾ cup
Steps:
Pat dry the chicken, cut it into bite size, mix it with salt koji and marinate for 30 minutes.
Wash and dry the eggplants, cut both ends and roll cut it.
Pour the oil in a pan, filling it to 1 cm deep. Heat up the oil over medium heat and put the eggplants in. When the sides facing down turn golden, turn it over. Take the eggplants out when they turn golden on all sides.
While deep-frying the eggplants, coat the chicken with cornflour. After the eggplants are taken out, put the chicken in, and deep fry it over medium heat. When the sides facing down turn golden, turn it over. Take the chicken out when they turn golden on all sides.
Empty the pan, put the eggplant and chicken back to the pan, add the Douban sauce and give it a quick stir. Add the slurry and stir fry until every piece of the food are evenly coated. As the spiciness and saltiness of Douban sauce varies from brand to brand, adjust the portions to your liking.
Tomato and Egg Stir Fry
Ingredients: Tomato 300g Egg 2 pieces Raw cane sugar slab 5g Salt To taste Ginger 2 slices Ketchup 1 tablespoon Cornflour slurry 1 tablespoon Diced spring onion To taste Cooked Rice 1 bowl
Steps:
Wash the tomatoes and cut them into 8 wedges each.
Add oil to the pan, heat it up over medium heat, fully beaten the eggs and pour the egg into the pan. Cooking it to a thick and fluffy till 70% done. Set it aside.
Put the ginger into the hot pan. When you smell the ginger fragrance, add the tomato and give it the stiry. Add the sugar, lower the heat and cooking it for a while with the lid on. When the sugar is melted, give the tomato a stir and remove the ginger slices. When the tomato is cooked to mushy, add the ketchup and season with salt. Add the egg back in and give it a quick and gentle mix. Add the slurry and cook till the sauce is thickened. Pour the tomato and egg onto a bowl of hot rice, sprinkle some spring onion if you wish.
Miso Soup
Ingredients: Dashi 500ml （Refer to this for recipe） Onion 100g Carrot 25g Turnip 25 g Shimeji Mushroom 25g White Miso Paste 1 tablespoon
Steps:
Slice the onion, and thickly shred the carrot and turnip. Put them into the dashi and cook for 15 minutes until they turn soft. Put the shimeji in and cook for 2 more minutes.
Turn off the heat and mix in the miso paste until the paste completely melts.
Jo Liu
It’s raining outside, crisp and bleak. Three chubby sparrows took shelter on my balcony and I gave them the baguette bits left on my breakfast plate but they flew away. I stayed in, played Damien Rice on vinyl and made apple crumble. Repeat.
