I never have to fear that I would go hungry, thanks to my dear husband, M, who can cook really well. He’s a very intuitive cook who doesn’t need a recipe, and he makes magic out of the simplest ingredients we have at home. Name him a dish, and he whips it up for you and makes it look so effortless, it annoys me. Take for example, once, I was craving for chilli crab, but we didn’t have crab at home, so what did he do? He made a chilli crab-esque sauce to go with chicken, and the flavours went surprisingly well, and man, that sauce was authentic! And what about the spot-on-first-attempt fish & chips that he made? I don’t know how he does it, but he does.
We’re quite the opposite. I’m much better at baking, and I thrive on tweaking, analysing, more tweaking, which is probably why I chose to do a bloody degree with 178% research component, although I would very much prefer to make baking a career (if my baked goods are delish enough to sell…). It’s good that we function differently though, he keeps me burping with good meals, I seal his meal deals with dessert.
Anyways, I had the privilege of having my hubby’s braised pork belly a month ago, and oh gaawwwd, it’s the best I’ve ever had. Trumps my mum’s (sorry mummy!), and those at restaurants. Succulent, tender, packed full of flavour, and it went so well with the Chinese buns and lettuce we bought. Home is where the heart is, and my heart is with my hubby, the amazing chef. Again, no recipes for this because argh, he doesn’t use any!!