Hi my name is Hannah, and while I may be the Grammar Police’s Commanding Officer, I am the latest member to enlist in the Anti-Pronunciation riot squad. When did my membership commence? Last week, when I was in a fine dining restaurant ordering my meal.
“What would you be having this evening, ma’am?” The eloquent waiter asked, notepad at the ready.
“For entre I’d like to order the scallops”.
“Excellent choice, the scah-lleps are very fresh”…. Oh no scallops like dollops, or scallops like gallops… have I been saying it incorrectly my entire life?
“For main I will order the basil crusted beef fillet with potato and shallot salad”
“One bay-zhil fih-lay with potato and shah-luht salad,” He repeated my words as he scribbled down my order…. Come on, ba-zhil, fih-lett and shuh-lot are perfectly acceptable too right?….
“And for my dessert, wow those macaroons sound amazing; what filling do you recommend”
“Yes the mack-arh-rons are very popular here, especially the white chocolate and almond flavour”
….I ain’t got time for this. Bring me my food.
Rate your ability with Chopsticks:
1- Does stabbing my food count?
2- I need to use both hands.
3- I can use them, as long as the objects are large and square
4- I can pick up more than 3 grains of rice with them
5- Samurai: soup consumption
If I had to rate my chopstick aptitude, I would probably give myself a big fat 0. The above scale is rendered inapplicable when it comes to me. In other words, I’m that one person at Yum Cha that will deny chopsticks and ask for a fork because I simply ain’t got time for ’em. Continue reading
Microwaves. They are a true blessing to cash-ridden university students and to culinarily-challenged singles around the globe. They are the pinnacle of convenience, and yet ironically, I ain’t got time for ’em. No, I am not Jamie Oliver. I do not profess to despise microwaves because of the starchy, fatty concoctions we place inside it. Microwaves are not entirely at fault here; they do not deserve to cop the blame for our expanding waistlines. But do you know what they should be accountable for? My second degree burns. That’s what.
When I’m in the kitchen, I act as if I’m the star of my own cooking show. I detail every aspect of the recipe to the tea
spoon for my non-existent fan base; describing the taste and texture of the fusion that’s magically bubbling away in my cauldron pot. To make it even more legitimate, I add a pinch of fancy jargon (‘balance of flavours’, ‘respect the ingredient’ and ‘the star of the dish’ are the most common), and showcase an endearing idiosyncrasy (my bum-shaking/head-bobbing/pan-stirring action) inspired by the likes of the great lisp of Jamie Oliver. Yep if Law school doesn’t work out, cooking is my plan b, followed closely by floristry.
I live in a city where the ‘S’ word is uttered on a daily basis. ‘F’ bombs have infiltrated everyday lingo, and at Uni, you may even hear the abhorrent ‘C’ word casually exchanged during conversations around the lunch table. Now before you become too repulsed to read on, I should inform you that I am talking about the NEW ‘S’, ‘F’ and ‘C’ words.
Superfood. Flaxseed. Chia.