First there was rice…
The fact that I’m Asian, living in a Westerner’s country and dating a western man (of Irish descent, no less!) is not lost upon my culinary awareness.
My oh my, “culinary awareness” indeed. What an obnoxious word! Will someone come over here and slap me hard, please?
Being Asian, rice or noodle (not instant ones!) was always the staple. If you don’t eat either one for one day, you feel like you’ve never eaten at all. Rice and noodles was the be all and end all.
And then there was bread… 
Bread was just something you came across to make sandwich or toast. You do eat bread in Malaysian, you just don’t really eat bread that much. To put it into perspective, we eat breads as often as non-Asian eat rice. Not to say that you have never eat rice, right? Or that you rarely eat rice. It’s just not…you. Not staple.
Get what I mean?
My first exposure to heavy bread use was during the Paniyiri, a Greek festival. I oohhed and aaahhed in ecstacy at the honeyed bread. The trick to getting free breads is to charm the pants of Greek grandmas and grandpas. I came armed with two Greek friends, and who wouldn’t melt at the sight of a little Asian penguin wolfing down your traditional food in ecstasy? I even attempted to learn the name of all the breads, and showed a genuine interest on what was in it. Within a few stalls, I could guess in a bite what was in the bread. And boy oh boy, was I vocal about my guess. If I was right, they are charmed with my effort and give me free breads. If I was wrong, they are charmed with my attempt, correct me and still give me free breads. I would point to one stall and tell them in ecstasy, “from this kind man I got this and this” and showed them my wins in the paper bags. Then they will go, “Aaah, but he/she haven’t gave you this one to taste!” and so I scored another one or two free breads.
I tell you, old grandmas and grandpas really do love me. I was like a little girl in Willie Wonka’s factory. Food all around me, the smell of bread and the smell of honey…it was enough to make me drunk.
That day I got loads of breads that should have lasted me through the week. Did it? Of course not. I kept on eating them every other hour. Suffice to say that I was packed with enough for a week and I finished it within two days.
Hey. I’m a growing girl!
When I started working in a bakery, I was faced with a whole different bread scenarios and that sped up my culinary education faster. Ciabatta, panini, pana de casa, focaccia…back home I would have never knew this existed. We didn’t even have bread rolls except for long rolls and hamburger rolls. Heck, I didn’t even know they were call “rolls”!
That’s why I love my work so much. Kitchen is a big love of mine, so being able to work in an environment where my kitchen knowledge just expands gives me real, great joy. I especially love it when customers come in and tell me what they are going to do with the bread for dinner that night. I learn a lot from them. I discover bread uses that I have always been ignorant about. I know how to make croutons now, for example. Not that I ever wanted to make them, but knowing how is useful, I guess.
I’m heading to work tomorrow afternoon…and although sometimes you can get sick of being surrounded with breads, it’s just temporary.
P.S: Beware of coming food posts…Hero’s absence throw me headlong into tastebugs adventure!
Filed under: Food
