Meggie Chef

I will never forget the first time I opened a good bottle of sesame oil. The aroma: sweet nutty. I am so convinced that the smell of sesame oil is divine. I love it, I could smell it for hours. I know some people would hate it. I even remember joking with my mates how nice it would be if there was a perfume made out of it. Or maybe that was not a joke? =) Last night, I found myself sniffing my fingers after chopping a bulb of garlic for my roast pork. The smell of garlic relaxes me and reminds me of home. It also makes me uber hungry. Is there something wrong with me? I surely know that I am not on crack.

Whatever that has to do with food delights me more than anything else I know. Apart from cooking good food, another obsession lies on restaurant dining. A typical weekend afternoon would be struggling to pick a restaurant for dinner with friends or associates. These are moments when my brain exerts so much effort. You see, I am a very flexible eater. I can eat almost anything as long as it is not too sour. I almost never want to repeat a restaurant unless it is too good or I need comfort.

During this clamor, my friend and I would end up driving all over for the sake of choosing that best restaurant for the night. It has to be great and it has to satisfy the urge. What to order? This is another story. I always go for specifics that I have never tried before. My friend and I would agree not to order much but we end up doing so. Just to make sure that we have a a real taste of what the restaurant has to offer. I do not believe much that food has to come with a great drink. I aplogise for that. I know the cliche that good food should come with good wine or a pairing. Water is the best accopaniment for my food because it does not conceal the essence of food. I prefer to have my nice glass of wine after the mains. End of story.

Consistently, the choice would be a fine dining restauant. Of course there will be days when it should be just plain comfort food. There is no better way to be comforted than eating in an authentic chinese restaurant with my dim sum and MSG fried rice. It happens mostly after a vodka night out and before retiring to bed. It could be Indian or Mediterranean. It could be buffet as well. Please do not let me explain how I eat all I can. Apart from stuffing myself, my plate would look like an artists pallete board. I have to have a little of everything. It is a must!

I think that I will never in my life express exactly how I feel about food. Even if I write for hours about it, it will never be enough. I do not even want to start how I drool when I watch cooking shows. Eating at home and cooking at home electrifies me as well.

I feel so blessed for acquiring this talent for cooking and expertise in eating. It is a real obsession for food. I thank God for it. Without food, I will not just be starving, I will not have a vocation at all. My sense of being depends on food. This is the reality.

I know I am not a writer. Everyday I have so many thoughts and ideas on what to write but when I open my tumblr, I end up looking at the ceiling. I guess I am just washed up and stressed with work lately which make my brain cells hibernate. I hope that is not true. Good writing skills besides good eating skills run in the family and I should adhere with this.

Next post would be, to eat there or not to eat there, that is the obsession. There I took a note so I will not forget. I hope I write it soon. For now, I have to get a shut eye for another kitchen work in the next 8 hours. Cheers!

After several achievements in the culinary scene as a student, I finally graduated. It was a December then, I was itching for January to come and start working. I did not know where to go then, all I knew was that I had to work at the best restaurant in town with a very good chef and it had to specialize in french food. Proud enough, I landed as an apprentice at an exceptional french restaurant with one of the best chefs in the industry. I was speechless when I saw the food for the first time. It was how food should be. Precisely and artfully prepared. I was proud to be a part of the team. It should always be like that. There should be pride in wherever you are and whatever you do. Skills developed and so did the undying pursuit to be at the best restaurant all the time.

The next restaurant was a great one as well, a new chef who had so much trust in me that it made me feel nuts before service time. Do you know this feeling when you have checked a hundred times but you still keep on checking for f**k sake. I always feel that I will never be ready for service. I think that this is a common ground for all chefs. I never want to dissapoint a head chef. When it happens, I feel sick. I aim for perfection. This is what cooking is about. They say that there is no such thing as perfect but there is in the cooking world. Trust me on that.

The last best restaurant before I left my native land was at that time I consider, the best restaurant in the country. I worked with the mentor of mentors. It was fantastic. A brigade of chefs working together as one. It was the most remarkable year of my culinary life, so far.

It was heartbreaking to leave but I had to leave the country because at that time, I felt that it was the perfect time to pursue this flair in a different country. United Kingdom here I come!

Yes I am talking about the quote down there that says, ”There is no love sincerer than the love of food”. I am, with all honesty obsessed with food. It is way beyond being a chef. I dream about it. I fantasize about it. If I keep on illuminating how I feel about food, you will think I am on crack. At some point in our lives, people tell us that we are on crack if they find us funny, outrageous, weird or whatever. These are the people who will never understand you. So yes, tell me I am on crack. I will continue anyway. This love for food started when I was less than ten years old, an era when puberty has not taken its toll. It was when my mom gave me a thin baking book for my birthday. I flipped through the pages, (dissapointed that it did not smell of chocolate) told myself that this will not be too difficult, after all, we had a new oven.

Chocolate chip cookies was the humble beginning. Everyone who tried it loved it and I was happy about it. My parents even craved for it. My mom literally kept it in her room and woke up in the middle of the night to snack on it. I even made money out of it. From chocolate crinkles that I made with my sister, to cinnamon rolls, pies and even cakes, it was great. Of course there were frustrations, the chocolate eclairs which i piped and did not expand in the oven. I was down on my knees, staring at the oven with my hands clamped and eyes closed, praying that it will get bigger. Soon after, I bought my own cook books and annoyed our kitchen help at home.

This was the humble beginning. I remember telling myself that this is my life, food is my life. I live to eat and not the other way around. The love and respect for food. This is the humble beginning that paved my way to the culinary scene.