Something my mum talk about last weekend made me realized something. My passion for cooking. Yes, I am a culinarian for years now, engage with cooking almost every single day, but the fire, my once fiery passion in cooking is not there. It's like, I'm just doing it for the sake of my job and for the benefits of my students. God, where is 'that love' that buried deep in myself since I was just a little girl? It almost made me cry when my mum said that she couldn't forget the deliciousness of 'kueh pau' that I made when I was just in primary school. Among so many things that I cooked for my family, that was one small insignificant things that she can't forget. I am so touched at heart. She said that what was so special about it is the filling. The filling that I accidentally invented out of boredom after coming back from school. I remember that my dad didn't believed I made it myself that he kept asking where I bought it from. Maybe becau
Reality comes from a small fantasy