"Fear of Frying"

"I'm not a naturally anxious person. I am not afraid of enclosed spaces, open spaces or public speaking. I have no fear of flying. Heights have never bothered me. I view all of God's creatures - dogs, rats, cats, snakes, spiders, stingrays and sharks - as friendly, at least until they try to bite me. I am not abnormally fearful of financial ruin, male pattern baldness, impotence, the inevitable onset of senility or the prospect of dying alone. But I am terrified of kitchens."

- as shared by Andrew Humphreys on the Gourmet Traveller


Although it is the heart of the home, the kitchen was not quite the arena for me as a kid. Apart from the author's gender and seeming courage on the issue of impotence, I don't think I differed much then from Andrew Humphreys, especially on the "male pattern baldness". Memoirs from childhood also remind me of involuntarily deflecting from that direction which leads to the kitchen, mainly on Mum's advice to spend afterschool hours doing the homework. Maybe she didn't see in me that kind of innate talent Nancy had for cooking. Later on though, I learn I was meant for something almost as important, kitchen-related and otherwise.

But I was never never far from being there. I was almost omnipresent when Nancy was high on experimental baking, to lick a spatula or finger wipe that sweet batter from the mixer whisks. I was also there for taste tests and equally significant moments in Mum's trial runs. I was big on adjectives then, so a compliment or two was highly anticipated... and, of course, encouraging. :)

Dishwashing and other forms of cleaning make up the household chores I fetishised in, as Nancy was to cooking - and eating. :) Somehow, the kitchen had offered a niche for me as well. For years, especially when we were attending uni, Nancy and I were a team. With Mckoy being the utmost critic for our joined efforts' outcome (and also the biggest shareholder in terms of food servings), the kitchen was re-defined to me. Rather, it proved to me that, indeed, it is the heart of the home.

Now that I have my own kitchen, it is up to me how to make it my home's. Armed with cleaning prowess, I'm more than halfway there. I hope. It's Sunday once again, and it's that time of the week I can shape my kitchen to be the heart that it should be.