As much as I am an explorer when it comes to trying new cuisine, I’m not so much so when it comes to trying new restaurants. Whenever I’m in charge of choosing a place to dine, I would initially aim to try a new place, a place that I’ve always wanted to try. But almost always, after a while I would later on change my mind and go to the restaurants I’ve been to in the past and one that I know for sure would consistently give great service and serve me delicious food. To put in simply, I like to play it safe.
There’s something about the process of baking that entices me. One thing is that baking naturally forces me to live in the moment. I need to be aware of what I’m doing, following the recipe step by step in order to know what to do next. I also like how baking is an experiment and a transformative process. Like how the unique scent of sugar, egg and butter gradually reform to create an infusion of scents once creamed together. Or how the white sugar grain reacts with hot water and when heated to the right temperature, develops into a golden syrupy caramel. It’s really interesting, kind of like high school chemistry lab (not that I was very good at that). Only now it’s more fun since I’m allowed to both taste and experiment.
I think there’s something exciting about the idea of travelling the world that makes people agitated to hoist a backpack, drop everything and take a one-year trip around the globe. Perhaps it’s the thrill of becoming passive observer in an exotic new culture or of fleeing from the normality of everyday life. What do you guys think? For me, it’s the idea of both. I want the sense of anonymity in a foreign country where no one knows who I am and I can do whatever I want. But I also long for a short escape from any expectation, responsibility and just reality in general. I long for that sweet thought of freedom…
However, recently I came to think that maybe my urge to leave home and explore the world made me take for granted the beauty of my origin.